Tearing me apart

My wet clothes stick to my body. I'm sitting on the side of a chalk cliff overlooking the ocean, while suddenly I'm overstaken by the rain. I stand up and my feet run towards the woods. The big grassy plain inbetween the ocean and woods has no hiding spots. My feet are sinking into the damp ground and between my feet and the muddy earth a squishy sound appears. I scoff at the sky: ‘Couldn’t you wait until I was ready to go before becoming such a cry baby?'

In return the sky starts to light up and the thunder starts to chase me like a hunter hunting for a dear. I'm not easily startled from the lightning, but it is coming dangerously close. The plains or the woods are not safe. The thunder drives me farther away from my home as if it is guiding me to a place. I eventually end up under a weeping willow tree and the dark clouds seems to fly over my head. The rainstorm remains with the gushing wind tearing my hair apart. On the other hand the thunder goes farther and farther away until I hear it no more. My breath is heavily irregular.. The tree seems to be a pretty solid shelter for now until I catch my breath. I sit against the tree stem and when I look around my surroundings something looks familiar. What is it about this place? Memories flood my mind. More than the rain does the earth. I hear children’s laughter and running feet and then I see him in my minds eye.

No I don’t want them. Go back where you belong. The back of my mind. The harder I try the more they come. It is useless. The memories are here and I got to deal with them. I stare into the abyss and forget my soaking wet clothes. Suddenly something before me on the ground catches my eyes. There is an object in the ground and a little bit sticks above the earth. I crawl to it and put both my hands into the muddy earth. I dig up a small metal box and open it. Books. I scream ‘no way. No frickin way.’ These are two books me and my best friend buried here. Ones this tree was our favorite place. We used to come and play under and around it. We made up whole different worlds out here. One day we buried these books, so we could find them when we were old and grey. The idea came from my best friends grandma. She and her best friend buried their favorite book and dug it up 50 years later. I slide my fingers on the cover of the book and my fingers find the title. The Chronicles of Narnia. I whisper barely hearing the sound above the rain ‘Our favorite.’ I clench my hands around both books holding it closely to my beating heart. It pulses in my ears. I take a breath and run straight back to my home. I need to change into something warmer or I’ll be buried instead of these books.

My cabin in the woods lays still like a water painting waiting to come to live. While the rain keeps bounding on the wooden roof I walk inside. In no time I build a fire and change into dry clothes. I sit before the fire with a mug of hot water. Not caring to find herbs or choose a teabag.

I open the first book ‘The lion, the witch and the wardrobe.’ And start reading. I keep reading until my hair is dry from the hot fire. Although I’m warm enough I get a blanket and wrap myself in it. I lie on the ground when I get the next book Prince Caspian. My eyes dance along the lines and I soak up every little bit of the story. Then a sentences hits me in the stomach.

I utter the words ‘The trees retreated so deeply within themselves no one has heard of them since’

I stand up and the book falls slowly out of my hand while my eyes wander around the inside of my cabin. It is barren. Empty. Exept for the ongoing howling wind and rain it is deadly quiet. When did the sound die? When did the laughter stop?

I walk up to an antique tear shaped mirror and look to myself. I touch my image as if I’m not really sure I’m here. It dawn on me;

I’m like the Narnian trees. I retreated so deeply within myself that no one has ever hear of me since. I have been hiding in this cabin.

I run to a cabinet and start grabbing photo albums. The first ones I throw caresly behind my bag until I find the one I'm looking for. It has a brown leather cover. I open it and flip rapidly the pages, until I slow down to actually look at the photos. I come across my yonger mome, dad, grandparents and the friends and classmates I had when I was a child. Then I see a picture of me and my best friend before the willow tree. That day was the only day we let my mom near our place.I touch the photo lightly. I feel something bubble up within me. ‘Where are you?’ I scream to it. ‘You were always there. And then one day you were no I swallow a big gulp away. My voice turns in to a harsh whisper. 'My heart is burried next to yours.'

Then a waterfall emerges and I cannot hold back the tears anymore. Ig rab my knees close to my ches and rock myself while ballling. My heart hurts so much. I cannot bare the pain. This burning ache in my chest.

The fire dies and I stand up, open the door and slam it shut behind me. The rain still spills from the clouds. I run like my life depends on it. My barefoot are once again sinking into the muddy ground. I scream to the sky: 'Yes, I became a crybaby too! Happy?'

Suddenly an earthy rain smell lingers around me. Though I'm shivering the scent feels like a warm blanket.

The tears stop flowing and my body stops moving;

While my feet are planted in the earth I close my eyes. The wild wind howls around me.

It feels like the wind is tearing me apart

or is it taking away all the burdens I have been carying for too long?