The Trees

(This story that you will be reading is true. In my Feature Writing class that I took in my last semester at the University of Akron, we were given the ability to free write on a topic we all discussed and agreed upon during our last class of the year. We were given 30 minutes to write as much we could, and after that 30 minutes, we must stop. We then all read our stories to the class. After I read my story, I was given the greatest reaction to any story that I have ever written... silence.

The topic of that class was "Our Neighborhood." What follows from here may not be word for word what I had written, but it is damn near close to it. It stuck in my heart for a long time. I haven't looked at it for so long, not even knowing where I put it since that class, I still remember it like it was yesterday. Enjoy).





Like in most neighborhoods, change is inevitable. The people change; the politics change. My neighborhood is no different.

My childhood home has changed a ton over the years, and for what I feel is for the worst. I remember a time when nothing outside our little kingdom mattered. The view was perfect for the younger me to enjoy, for you couldn't see the monster that is the outside world. The trees in my yard, so tall and protective, keeping all the insidiousness of those who intend to harm my family and myself on the outside, where it belonged.

Those trees were my wall, and yet my plaything. My brothers and I spent countless hours climbing and running around it's trunks. It was our oasis; something to do, somewhere to go, when we didn't want to sit inside anymore. It was a time for us to bond and become as close as we ever had before. Even as we grew older, and we grew apart, those trees were still there to protect us; to keep our struggles and our lives our own.

But there came a time when those trees had to be cut down, and not by choice. And as they came crashing down, our privacy became the knowledge of the outside world, and the horrors of the outside world entered our paradigm. We could see everything. The cars whizzing by as they struck each other, leaving pieces scattered throughout the street. The drunks, walking by the house, getting into fights with the neighbors or with themselves, sending bodies flying, into the authorities trying to keep things in check. The bike riders, enjoying their time out while it was nice, only to be left on the side of the road to die as those bastards who couldn't even give a shit strikes them and drive away without so much as a blink of the eye to see what they had just caused. The death, the forgotten, dilapidated memorials, the hideousness that is the real world flooding in.

This is how we became who we are, because of the horrors and reality of our world changing our view of what is waiting beyond our grove. Change creates a fear within us. We yearn for those times when things were simpler, where we had no cares in the world except what was within our own little world. And once that opens up and we broaden our boundaries, we are thrown into this new world that we aren't ready to fight.

Though the trees are torn down around us, we must not fear what is on the outside. We can't control those around us to make it the world we wish it should be. All we can do is live with the pains, with the loathing, the death. We must plant new trees, if anything but to keep ourselves sane.

You never know what the life outside those trees can bring. Hopefully, you can find the change in yourself, and flourish within that brand new world that you are growing.