Poison - a fiction smidgen for freewrite # 210 - tree

in freewrite •  2 years ago  (edited)

Greetings fellow Steemians! Here is my 56th 5 minute freewrite. (Disclaimer: these usually take me more than 5 minutes to write). The prompt is "tree". Many thanks to @mariannewest for hosting this daily freewrite!



I'd grown accustomed to pain. It was just part of life. Not that the agony of it ever actually abated, but as time went on it became... well, less of a shock. Almost like background noise.

But not the innocuous kind of background noise. Not the kind you could ever really live with. No. This was the kind that could subtly, relentlessly drive you crazy, without your ever catching on. I mean really crazy. A danger to oneself and others crazy.

It would have been a good life, except for the poison. I'd taken root not far from the bank of a tiny creek. Little more than a trickle, but still... a good place for an oak tree, plenty to drink all year round, if my roots could reach it.

And they did, eventually. Once I'd fanned out far enough. I was expecting clear, clean water, or at least something decent enough to not really hurt me, as I'd found everywhere else my roots had gone. But when I touched the water around the creek... it hurt. Bad. Whatever was in it, when I pulled it up into me, into my roots, trunk, branches, leaves... it tasted like death.

It felt like death.

I suspected the building just upstream from me, the one with no windows. I thought the bad stuff must be coming from there. If only I could go there, tell them what was happening, make it stop. Now that I had touched the stuff, I could feel its effect on everything else that came into contact with it: small animals, grasses, wildflowers, willows, rushes...

There were no fish in that water. Not even insects.

I bore the pain as best I could. I breathed.







Day again.

The seasons turned, and with each passing year I grew.

And I grew strange.

In winter, of course, the pain was less. Trees don't drink so much in winter. But the poison that was already inside of me was there, always , a demon to be wrestled during the long, slow, cold months. A suffocating, malevolent presence, busily crafting nightmares out of dreams.

Each winter was worse than the last, but I bore it. I outwrestled the demon, or at least outlasted it, every time. It was all I could do. And each spring, I woke to fresh pain, the sharp sting of awareness, the cleansing of old nightmares by a flood of new ones. But the demon was tireless. And finally, the winter came when it got the better of me.

I couldn't help but notice the sensation as soon as it started. This was new. Different. A gathering of pain, a concentration, all in one place. Instead of being diffused, the hurt began to coalesce into a ball, a knot. Not at the center of me, but close to the periphery, close to the bark. I could feel it coursing from every direction toward this one place, which grew steadily larger, more defined.

And then... it began to beat. And its beating sent pain out again, in all directions. But not all the way to the edges of me. No. The shape of the pain was no longer that of a tree.

It was the shape of a man.

And when spring came...

©2018 Bennett Italia, All Rights Reserved

horizontal rulers courtesy @cryptosharon


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Beautiful and heartbreaking.

Thank you @sue-stevenson! I don't usually write anything so tragic... I thought it was going to be part I of a 2 part series, but now I kinda think it stands on its own.

I'm curious to learn if something blossoms in the spring - and if so, what fruit it is. This piece is really nice. I didn't feel sad reading it, because it suggests a struggle or search. Yes, there's disappointment, but it ends open ended. Perhaps this is what you mean by 'it stands on it's own'. The conclusion is our own to compose.

Thank you @trumanity :)

Originally, TBH it was meant to be a kind of superhero origin story. If continued, it would have gone in the direction of the newly formed heart and body within the tree breaking off as a humanoid creature with weird abilities and setting off to seek the source of the corrupted water. Which could get interesting. But I almost like it better, as you say, with 'The conclusion... our own to compose.'

Now, I must disagree with you. See, we can't compose like you can ;-)
I read that you are powered down as it were, for a while. Perhaps when you have more time, we can read thi sone further. Fingers crossed.

:D haha ok, thank you @trumanity. Vote registered. It will be my pleasure.

I love this!!! May I read it on one of my podcasts? The Sustainable Living Podcast http://sustainablelivingpodcast.com/

If yes, and you want, you can DM me your real name so I can give you credit.....

Thank you Marianne! Yes, of course :)

lol my real name is also my Steemit name, Bennett Italia ;)

Great!! Thank you!! I'll drop you a link with the episode :)

little tag error. Mapsters is with one p - at least I think it is. LOL

thank you :)

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Here is the link to the podcast website

I have to still clean it up here on Steemit :) share the link with you tomorrow

Got it done tonight after all. podcast link is in this post as well