The wind whistled through the pine trees, tossing their
branches in a wild, untamed dance. The frost wind spoke of the coming winter as
dead-brown pine needles were shaken from still living branches and tossed about
in the gale. The inky black of the sky held twinkling steel stars shining
coldly, unaffected by the movements and stirrings on the earthly plane. A lone
figure looked up briefly at those impassive watchers, pausing in the mad dash
it had been consumed by moments before. The figure, hidden by the shadows of
the tossed pines clutched a threadbare jacket closer around thin shoulders,
searching the black for a guiding light. A shout carried on the wind made the
figure spin towards the sound, muscles tensed once more, ready for flight. Another
gust of wind roared over the pines and the figured turned away from it, running
with the wind, dodging pines and twirling needles as bare feet skidded on the
needle littered ground.
The figure ran a mile more before slipping to a halt
before a large fence whose ominous hum was audible even over the raging wind. The
figure glanced around frantically, the shouts growing closer, when a lonely
pine near the fence was spotted. This harried pine, most branches stripped
almost bare, was left to defy the presence of the man-made fence all on its
own, resting near enough so that it’s browning branches drooped over either
side of the confining affront to nature. The figure raced towards this lonely
protester, briefly flitting into the path of a motion sensor that triggered a
floodlight mounted on the fence. In the sudden garish light shadows sprang up,
a mockery of the life they were attached to, stretched and distorted and flung
against the surrounding landscape as though hoping to meld back into the
shadows of the surrounding world. The figure’s small shadow raced alongside, a
fleeting companion in the mad dash to the tree. The figure turned once,
glancing at the line of trees a hundred feet from the fence, the light playing
across the figures face, revealing feminine features, full lips, exotic
cheekbones and striking grey eyes. The eyes creased with worry, the lips spread
as she gasped for air.
A shadow moved beneath the trees and with a strangled
cry she turned back and put all her strength into her legs before leaping up
and grasping a low hanging branch above her head. She climbed quickly as the
shouts grew ever closer, followed now by the sounds of pounding feet and the
sharp metallic clicks of weaponry being readied. She reached hand over hand,
pushing and pulling her body further up the tree, fighting the wind tossed
branches as they bucked beneath her, trying to force her back to the ground
where she belonged. She stopped climbing up and moved around the trunk, pausing
to look down as the branch below her swayed dangerously. Words trickled through
the heart pounding adrenaline, the meaningless shouting suddenly forming words,
possibly prodded into meaning by the familiar voice, the familiar tone.
“Sylvia stop! Just- just listen to me, please!” The girl
closed her eyes, but didn’t turn to the voice, didn’t move at all, just clung
to the shaking tree. The voice continued, seeing her non-action as a response. “Come
on, you know this isn’t the way. Come down, let’s just talk about this.” A tear
fell from her closed eyes, the voice once a source of comfort and strength now
a hurtful thing, a reminder of betrayal and lies; so many awful lies. She shook
her head, not even sure if he could see it, the action more to reaffirm her own
decision. She faced the trunk and began descending, palms and feet now sticky
with sap, scratches and bruises forming from where twigs and thicker branches
slapped her as the wind grew suddenly more violent. She was twenty feet from the
ground when the voice shouted over the rising wind, a last desperate plea for
her reconsideration.
“You know what will happen if you jump down from that tree,
please, just don’t do this!” without hesitation she let go and landed solidly
upon the ground on the other side of the fence, the hum of the deadly
electricity a throb in her ears. She took one last glance at the other side of
the fence, the side soaking in the stench of captivity. Her eyes locked with a
pair of grey eyes similar to her own, only darker, the grey of the storm clouds
the fierce wind was heralding in. And in them was the desperate plea voiced in
his words, a plea for her to second guess herself, go back to him and accept
the lies he had told her.
“Good bye Allen.” She whispered, the wind tearing the words
away before any other ears could hear them. Heart hammering in her chest with
fear and exhilaration she spun away towards the waiting shadowy trees on her
side of the fence, just as wild and wind tortured as their brethren on the
other side, but with the promise of freedom drifting somewhere under their
boughs.
