Chapter Two
Some constructive gypsy deception has been a lifelong must because we have to keep up a ‘normal family’ pretense. Our rental houses are always furnished with three bedrooms. We stage the master for our “parents”, although no one has ever come over to our house. Still, we do it anyway.
The truth shouldn’t have to be fabricated, but for us it’s necessary. Society assumes parents live with and care for their children. Anytime a child’s life deviates from that given expectation then, bad things can and usually do happen. My parents have been out of the picture for a long time. In fact, I don’t remember anything about them.
The gypsy deceptions we portray to the world are reserved for outsiders. My brother and I are always truthful with each other.
Tray always brings in my boxes, first. All my clothes were stacked neatly when I started the unhappy (and mainly unsuccessful) task of searching for my wayward socks. This stupid discovery quest is nothing like the fun summer treasure hunts that Tray takes me on each year. Even as I mentally reprimanded myself for not pairing my socks, I knew my words were falling on deaf ears. I have never been able to keep up with them. This ridiculous clothing challenge is the only thing in my life I can never seem to organize. It’s also enough to make me crazy.
Out of thirteen socks, only two pairs were mates. I sighed heavily as I considered my options. Maybe I can be known as the crazy mismatched sock kid that can’t dress herself properly? Or better yet, I’ll be thought of as the artsy kid that intentionally wears mismatched socks because she’s super mysterious and misunderstood. The second option is the better choice, so that’s the one I’ll stick with.
My portable disc player was packed near the top of a box marked LIFE & DEATH STUFF – DON’T LOSE! That box holds our emergency kits, medicine bottles along with my CD collection, stereo and my portable disc player – all the essentials. I love to get lost in my music.
I grabbed the first disc I put my hand on and looked at it. The song “Bring Me to Life” was listed and it’s one of my favorites. The lyrics tell a romantic story about how this girl’s spirit is cold, alone and sleeping. Then, this guy comes along, rescues her soul from the darkness and brings her spirit back to life.
Not bothering to look at the stereo, I pressed the play button. The music was blaring and scared me. It also startled Tray.
He rushed down the hallway to check on the commotion. I had already turned down the volume. But, he still dramatically covered his ears and pretended like I had just destroyed his hearing. I rolled my eyes. If he can be melodramatic so can I. He winked at me and laughed. Then, I heard the door close as he walked outside to get more boxes.
I inched the volume up and suddenly, the wind captured my attention. It started gusting, for no apparent reason. The trees were creaking from the force. It sounded so eerie that I turned down the music to hear it. But, the instant I did that it stopped blowing.
Barely cracking the window open, the night was calm and still. No breeze had been blowing at all today. The evening sky was perfectly clear…no storm was building.
Great, not only am I losing time and memories…now, I’m imagining things, too.
I mindlessly turned the music back up and it happened again. I turned the volume up and down. The wind responded every time. I continued to perform my loony experiment until I proved my unbelievable hypothesis. The wind is reacting to the music!
The evidence was clear, but I still put my theory to the ultimate test. I turned up the stereo to maximum volume. The rogue wind rushed inside like an unexpected cyclone.
Although I was still completely fascinated by this strange phenomenon, I turned the volume to a moderate level and left it alone. Tray will rush back inside, in a panic, if I continue performing my unorthodox experiment.
The blowing wind was still brushing against my skin, enticing me to pay attention…to something. I looked through the window and thought I saw a flicker of light, miles away.
It isn’t lightning…it’s a flashlight…no…it’s too far off…maybe it’s some sort of beacon.
Before I could figure it out, I got distracted. I thought I heard something familiar – like a child’s voice crying out in the distance. The voice had an urgent tone, but no matter how carefully I listened I couldn’t understand it. Captivated, I pressed my palms against the window pane. My mind wandered aimlessly as I fell further into a semi-hypnotic state.
The carpet underneath my feet was becoming imperceptible. Then, it inexplicably transformed into what felt like grass. Since I’m curious by nature, I really should have at least glanced to find out what I was standing on. But, I couldn’t seem to look at anything other than the shadowy forest beyond my window. It’s pleading with me to do something…perhaps to become…a part of it.
“Ember…” the wind whispered plainly when that thought came to mind.
Another gust of wind whistled through the barely opened window as realization swept over me. This breeze offered the same invitation – it’s calling to me. My body gently swayed as the mountain air brushed by. Being hypnotized by the whispering wind, I desperately want to become one with the forest.
“That’s not possible…” I whispered back in reply – oh, but it is.
Although intellectually I knew I was still standing in my bedroom, my mind no longer seemed to register this fact. I was being surrounded by the forest. The trees just sort of grew up around me.
Suddenly, it felt like I was being transported to another place – not of this world…a thriving, surreal landscape. I could hear the sounds of the forest all around me. But, I’m not in North Carolina, anymore.
So, where am I??
The surreal forest was quickly becoming my new, unbelievable reality. I was being enclosed inside what seemed like an incredible painting. I am ‘a part of’ and ‘apart from’ my emerging forest. This woodland-fantasy world is indescribably haunting and more awesome than anything I have ever seen.
My bedroom walls vanished as the forest was created. The unfamiliar trees captured me inside the enchanted world. Being imprisoned inside a living painting, should have been terrifying to me. But, I simply wasn’t scared. In fact, I never want to be liberated from this enthralling fantasy world. I am a willing hostage of this magnificent, alien forest.
The dreamlike painting finished transforming around me. The once, painted illusion of the forest is now real and bursting with life. The unfamiliar trees swayed in the chilly autumn wind. The voice called out to me and I could hear it, loud and clear.
“Fly…Ember…” it coaxed.
I surrendered to the request and the forest encircled me. I was floating…spellbound…
Nothing matters anymore, except the mysterious forest…the whispering, singing wind…and flying free.
My worries were left behind as I finally became “fully one” with the forest. Its energy flows through me.
Somehow, I had transformed and managed to harness the life force of the woods. I absorbed the forest’s incredible power and used it to soar skyward. I could have touched the clouds if there were any. Then, I dove toward the tops of the trees and continued gliding. I have become one with the wind – I’m as light as the breeze. I rapidly sailed through the forest, without a single care in the world.
The surreal flight continued for quite some time. I have no intention of ever landing again because freedom like this is incredible and rare.
Sometimes what I plan to happen and what actually occurs though, are two different things…
The landscape transformed from the mysterious forest back into the normal mountains of North Carolina. I didn’t pay much attention since I was still flying free. Then suddenly, I collided with a heavy kind of ‘nothingness’. The invisible object was very real! I fell from the sky and slammed into the ground. The force of the impact winded me. Clutching my pain-filled chest, I struggled to catch my breath.
I crawl
ed along with one hand out in front of me, trying to locate the source of my downfall. That would end up being useless. There was simply nothing there to prevent my passage. So, what did I fly into??
Before I could arrive at any logical conclusion my hand landed on the base of a gimonsterous tree. The bark crumbled like sand beneath the weight of my palm. I looked up and the pale moonlight revealed the horrible tragedy. The tree limbs were all decayed. The massive trunk had deeply etched black lines. This was once a majestic tree, but now it’s dead…rotting away…crying out in pain.
Sheer devastation swept over me as I heard the tree’s sorrowful cry. I was overwhelmed and grief-stricken. My eyes were brimming with unshed tears. Filled with inexpressible sadness, my heart shattered. Buried deep below this sacred tree’s dying roots is untold pain…unspeakable agony.
Kneeling in front of the decimated trunk, I sobbed in heartbreak. The anguish locked underneath it is so tremendous that I can literally feel it.
I reached out to reverently touch the tree, again. That’s when something incredible happened. It felt like the trunk absorbed some of my unspent pain. Shocked, I reflexively jerked my hand away. But, the place where my palm had touched was still illuminated – evidence of what just happened. The etched black lines in the dead trunk seemed to be slightly healed from my handprint, too?? That’s just not possible…
I leaned in closer to get a better look. The outline of my palm print was still faintly visible. I can heal this tree!
Although I did reach out to complete the task, destiny had something else in mind. Suddenly, I was lifted off the ground by yet another unseen source. Once again, I would soar through the forest.
Frustrated, I struggled against my invisible enemy because I felt an overwhelming compulsion to stay with “my” tree and heal it.
“Stop…I’m not ready to go! I belong back there! It’s my special place…” my spirit shouted, uselessly.
The decayed ground surrounding the tree launched its own protest and cried out to me to return. No matter how bizarre it is that tree is somehow attached to me. That withered area is my special place. It holds a secret for my ears alone. I knew if I could have just stayed longer, I would have heard it clearly.
The invisible source ignored my pleadings and the cries of the tree. It continued to sweep me away. I had no control over this flight and no way to turn back.
The heartbreak I had just experienced would forever, haunt me. My tears spilled like raindrops.
My soul is desolate…it grieves.
The loss of my sacred tree…
Ember Rising Light (Book One) Page 6