Branches Book

BRANCHES

don’t like little me; she doesn’t understand anything. Still innocent. She throws her dolly up on the table and climbs into the seat across from me grinning ear to ear. As my late “mother” walks in little me tries her best to position herself on the chair so that she won’t fall off like little children always do. I simply sit looking at the child, beginning to grit my teeth into a small smile. “You’ve come back? Why do you bother,” says Claire, the dead woman, as she sits down in the seat next to the child entranced by her dolly. “Am I not welcome?” I say mockingly. “I just don’t understand why you come back here if you only are going to stare at her until your cheeks begin to bleed.” “What’s the harm of looking into a mirror, a mirror where I see nothing of myself, my face alone,” I say. “Are you weary child?” “Refer to me by my name.” “Are you tired of jumping, tired of coming here to see yourself before, tired of your loneliness? Are you tired or...” “Enough!... Refer to me by name,” I shout back at her. “Monster,” Claire says under her breath. I am doing it again, summoning a force. This time I shatter the windows and frighten the child with my piercing blue eyes. Her name is, my name, Alice, or so it used to be... now I am referred to by many names, a common one, Rhea. The child grabs our dolly and runs out of the room with Claire’s embracing arms following close behind. That dead woman, oh how I loved that dead woman. I continue to sit in the shattered room until the sun sets and the trees sleep, caressing the smooth edges of my necklace. I came again to cool my head, I tried to understand but I couldn’t even make that work. I jump back to school. I said I wouldn’t do it, but I had upset myself again. I am in second to last period but want the day to end. I flick my fingers and it begins raining outside. The class sees me do this and begin calmly gathering their things. One girl is very annoyed with me because she is in the middle of presenting, but I couldn’t care less. I want to go back . Where I don’t know. To a year, a place, a time when things were different. Should I move forward? Can I move forward. The storm quickly darkens the sky turning grey clouds to black, whirling winds through the trees surrounding the school. I lay back in my desk and look out the window, twirling my finger, creating a small whirlwind out in the yard. The teacher slowly stands up to put on her bag and walks over to the door, the kids follow her as they evacuate the classroom. They don’t bother taking me, I do this on occasion and they know the drill. Everything goes silent once again, I begin to enter a daze as I watch the forming tornado eat the rouge benches out in the field. Pretty. I jumped, now outside facing the tornado twirling round and round. I walk slowly to the

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