I had split off from the main road of the city, and travelled along a bypass that was known for deaths before this disaster. I hadn't realised the devastation of murder, and the toll it takes. I suppose I'd never really expected human beings to decide another breathing, living creature needs to die. The mere idea that my mother could have been murdered for power lust desire made my fists clench - I needed my mother to have died for a reason.
I couldn't help but repeat her final spoken sentence in my head, "You know sweet heart, life can be cruel if you're a dreamer." I begun to wish I hadn't left her. I'd begun to wish she was in my arms, breathing with a steady heart that pumped full of love and dreams that she possessed. I had been so cruel, ever so cruel to her in my final moments, replying with a harsh, bitter, "I was a dreamer, before you went and let me down." Perhaps it was the angst my childhood was missing, perhaps it was the never-dying piece of my father inside of me.
I trek into the forest on the outskirts of the city, and keep my head up, looking for somewhere to sleep for the night. I'd planned to stay in one of the four buildings I had tidied up for myself around the city; but for tonight I needed to be secluded. I needed to be unfindable.
I see one of my favourite trees. A redwood, with cinnamon and auburn tinted bark. I'd spent hours sitting under that tree as a child. It always seemed to be surrounded by a summer warmth, even in the coldest of winter temperatures.I remember three years ago, the tree had been heavily damaged by some teenager and their lighters. It was nearly cut down, but it was deep winter, and most wouldn't dare to travel in the forests at that time of year. A few trees across was another, smaller redwood tree that had been cut previously. This Fallen redwood, and its log served as a nursery for the growth of new trees, standing tall trees, and snags.
The cavities inside the bark of the redwoods trunk was providing a home for woodpeckers, owls, squirrels and a special place for food for the smallest of insects.I had always loved redwood trees because of their resistance to fire. Generally most of the trees would survive a ground held forest fire. I felt safe around them, I couldn't cause any harm here.
I had heard that fire can be advantageous to redwood trees, because it removes the competition of less fire resistant trees around it. This creates an increase in sunlight and strength in the redwood. It amused me, that even a tree could hold a competitive edge. Mia always loved a sequoia tree, not far from my own. It never quite shined as bright, but it was more dependant on fire than a redwood, just as told, Mia was more dependant on me, than I was dependant on her. We were connected in a way that her death would stamp out my soul.
I stand at the bottom of this redwood tree, and look up at the darkening sky. I was aware it was only six in the afternoon, so evidently it was going to pour down soon. I...