How Fate Makes A Familiar Dance Partner Of Guilt

Last Thursday night, I decided to go on my profile. Reading the comments from my latest story, Driven By A Rusty Legend, I had realized the tree, which is a reoccurring factor in my supernatural experiences, was in pain because I had neglected it. I had not realized I was hurting it, and wanted nothing more to save it (I used "it" loosely; I am not sure if the spirit residing in "it" has a definitive gender, if one at all, although I think I have a good idea). The guilt was overwhelming; I felt like a terrible person.

I wrote back to the commenter, whose name escapes me, that I would go to help the tree immediately. As soon as I had published my comment, I ran down stairs to my mother, who was watching television.

I begged my mother to allow me to use the hammer to relieve the tree of the nail, but she refused to help me. At last, I got her to promise to at least let me do it the following morning, and I slept easy that night.

Alas, when morning came, I was late for school, and although I begged my mother to follow through with her promise, she did not let me tend to the tree. That night, I was going away to Boston with some friends and would be gone virtually all weekend, so I could not do it in the near future. I made my mother promise once more that she would do it herself, while I was away.

Upon my return, the first thing I mentioned to my mother was the tree.

"Did you get the nail out?"

"What nail?"

"The nail in the tree?"

Her eyebrows furrowed, and her mouth became a line. "Oh, that. Whoops."

At this, I became angry and stomped up to my room, all the while muttering about the uselessness of lazy and forgetful creatures with no compassion for the world we are immersed in. As I shut off my light before going to bed, I got that burning sensation in your nose that announces the coming of tears as I glanced out my window to the tree. I bowed my head and whispered an apology before throwing myself into bed.

Today, I was home from school to look after my sick younger brother. I wanted to sneakily raid the basement and collect the hammer while my brother napped, but my cellar door was locked (yes, from the inside. I don't know how that works, either). My father came around at about two to work on removing grass for my new vegetable garden in the backyard.

I met him outside with intention to help. He was carrying a shovel and a strange looking gardening tool I had never seen before. I saw opportunity and asked him about a hammer. He said he did not have one readily available, but he lived across the street, so a hammer could be acquired. He promised to get it after finishing the garden, and I eagerly agreed; the thought of finally getting that stupid nail out was titillating.

In the middle of work, I took a break and went over to the tree. I walked around it, so that my father wouldn't see me murmuring to it. I leaned up against it, with both of my hands on it, and I closed my eyes and turned my head. I had not expected a reaction from the tree immediately, since the last one had to be provoked.

Sure enough, instantly I felt warm arms wrap around me, caressing me around my shoulder blades. It made me tingle where I felt I was being touched, and I was frightened by the abruptness of it. I opened my eyes wide to look at the tree. Although I saw nothing, I could still feel arms around me. The arms seemed to begin taller than I, and were thicker in tone, so I had assumed the entity that was hugging me was male.

Although I was scared at first, I became at ease. I realize this might make me sound raving mad (although most people on this site seem to think that of themselves after having a supernatural experience), but I felt love emanating from the arms that held me. Not friendly love, nor parental love, but pure, unrequited love. Typing that just now, I chuckled at myself and thought about discounting it as a girlish fantasy, but it was true; I really did feel it.

Amazingly, all of that happened in about two minutes. My father called me back to work, and I broke away from the embrace; the arms limply let me slide out of their grasp. I gazed at the tree wonderingly before returning to my father's side.

Before being able to attend the tree, my stepfather called me inside shortly before finishing the garden, and gave my father the hairy eye until he retreated off of our property. I am to clean my room before doing anything further, but I can hardly concentrate with that experience fresh in my mind.

I am starting think some external force doesn't want me to save that poor, forsaken tree. Now that the story is up to date, I think I can continue cleaning so I may be able to save that tree before sundown. I will catch you guys up in an hour or so with, hopefully, the ending.