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A dry and crumbled tree

A dry and crumbled tree

By Kamil Jan BazanPublished 3 years ago 10 min read
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A dry and crumbled tree sticks out from the ground, it looks pathetic, how can such a thing exist. It comes out from the reddish ground, it's not even ground it is just sand, so fragile it is this tree, so dry looking, it needs some water. 'Shall I spare a bit of water?'… I walk around wondering, I go over by the kitchen sink, pour a bit of water from the tap, the taps screeches and them vomits out a bit of water, the water is dirty, just like the sand outside - red and of a foul smell, but I got so used to it, I don't even notice. I drink the foul water as I look out this small wooden window, it is the window of my family's house, but they don't exist. The window looks out onto the reddish sand, there isn't much in the distance, just empty lands, broken dreams, storms of sand. I never like going out much, especially after I noticed that tree sticking out from the ground, it gives me some sort of hope, but all hope has been lost. It frustrates me because it stands there and does not give up, it stands there so firm but weak. The house creeks, the wood is old and the wind does it no good, it makes it older and weaker. 'Why am I here?' I ask myself, 'why am I reminded of this place?'. I take one last gulp of the water and leave a bit on the bottom of the glass.

I walk towards the door, every footstep is a heavy footstep, I put my hand on the metal door handle, it's cool and smooth, I pull it down and slowly push open the wooden door, it's heavy, but I keep on pushing. The sand that has gathered on the other side of the door rolls down and flattens, the pinkish light pours in to the house, slowly covering the floor, the iron stove, each pot fills with light, one pilled on top of the other, there's a moment of awe as it fills the space, I haven't seen the space in this color before - it feels more open. I go outside, bare feet on the ground, glass in hand, I go near this tree and observe it for a while, squatting down to get a closer look, 'it's hideous'. It's dark and brown, there are other small branches extending from it's core, but it looks weak, and so fragile, "why does it still exist?". The emptiness around it makes it even more lonely. I sit there and wonder at it's loneliness… 'what is it doing here, amongst all of this nothingness? How did it even get here? Why near this wooden house, this old wooden house? Why am I here with it?'. I take the glass and tip it near the bottom of the tree, the little water that is left falls onto the red sand and slowly vanishes. I watch the tree for a few minutes and I feel a sense of disappointment, 'why? Why is it not changing?', "I gave you water, I gave you water! Now you give me something!", it doesn't say anything back. I look at the empty glass, the bottom is filled with wet red sand. I stick my finger inside it, scoop it out and throw it in the distance with frustration. 'Nothing, nothing'. I sit there for a little while, and watch the red sky, the sun is hidden behind it, you can sort of tell where it is if you pay attention. It's still daytime.

I never gave this tree any water before, why would I?! It's dead… I think. What hope does it have left. But I am so lonely and so without purpose, maybe at least I can pretend, I can pretend like there's still life here. I head back inside, shut the door, put the glass down on the rotting counter near the sink, and find some food. All I can find is old stale bread. I sometimes venture into town to see a friend, but rarely. It's quite a walk, maybe an hour or so. There isn't much there, just sad faces and people hiding from themselves. It's like the world around me slowly turned red, turned sad, turned obsolete. I do not know how it happened, day by day things started to go sour, and eventually everything was red and gloomy, and now we are here, alone, in the horrible wooden house, with it's creaking walls, and it's foul smells. "Ohhhh, why am I here!?". I sigh.

"I mustn't watch the television today, I mustn't!", it is a frequent habit of mine, and today I feel a sense of hope, the television takes all this hope away from me. The television is there, with a click of the button I can abuse it, I can indulge in it all night, 'but not today' I tell myself 'not today!'. I hold off, I drink the foul water once again, this time the taste is less foul than before, it's good to wash down the dryness of the bread. I watch the tree again from this tiny window, it is still there, it has not changed and it is almost evening.

It's the next day, I didn't touch the television the other day, I just sort of played with the remote a bit, but I resisted. I feel a bit better today, I'm not sure why, but I just do. The heaviness of the other day is lifting. When I opened my eyes today things felt a bit more light. I poured myself a bit of water, the water is still mucky, I mean 'what do I expect?', why do I have this sense of hope like something is going to change, 'NOTHING IS GOING TO CHANGE! NOTHING! It's been like this for month and months, how can I have hope!?'. I shut the tap, the water is all over the place now. I grab some rags and lay them over the water, they soak it up. I take a sip from the glass, and look outside… "hmm, what is that on the tree?". I walk towards the door, push it open, the wind rushes into the house with force, pushing me back, I shut the door. "FUCK! Just when I have a bit of hope, this shit happens!", I must wait a bit for the winds to pass. I sit there by the door wondering what it was that I saw on the tree. I notice the black mirror of the television reflecting my sad face, I have no color in my face, I look gray like a sketch of some sort. The television gets up and walks towards me, it is large and scary, it is monstrous! "FORGET IT!" it screams with a deep and hateful voice! I awaken, "ohhh, it was just a dream", there is sweat running down my forehead. I am laying near the door. 'Why? Why am I here?' I try to recall why I laid here in the first place.

There's sand everywhere, the pots are cover with it. I decide to clean up a bit. The place looks a mess, I haven't cleaned in ages. I gather the red sand into the dust pan, it fills up. I load it all into a bucket. I wipe the pots and organize them a bit. I throw a few logs into the iron stove, 'haven’t done that in ages!', light them, the room fills with a soft yellow glow. It feels good. The winds have calmed since the morning therefore I decide to take the bucket of sand outside. I'm usually not this active, wonder what's gotten into me today? I push open the heavy door, it's real heavy today, but I get it open enough to get out. I walk out a bit and toss the sand out the bucket. The sky is softer today, it's not the harsh red it always is. As I head back a thought enters my mind 'why did I try to go outside in the first place?', I pull the door open, and squeeze back inside. I go over by the sink, grab my usual glass and open the tap. 'Hmm, the tap isn't working!', it screeches "ehhh, brrrrrrr" but nothing comes out! "FUCK!". I walk around a bit, lean over the tap, and look out the window. "What?!" I rub my eyes, open them wide again "That's it!!! How can I forget!", I run towards the door, push it hard, it opens all the way. I look into the distance and see it, 'I see it!', it's the tree, there's something tiny and green poking out from it's thin branch. "NO NO NO! WHHHHHAT!" I scream with joy! I scream like I have never screamed before! It's alive, it is not dead. But it looks weak, very weak… 'Is it actually alive?' I poke at it gently, it feels so dry. "I must get water, it needs some water!", I run back inside, through the open door, pick up my glass and open the tap. "Ohhh no! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! Why now!?", the tap screeches and screams, it's demonic and overpowering, the screeching dulls, the room fades, everything goes black.

I hear footsteps. I try to open my eyes but the eyelids are heavy. The footsteps near. "Hey! You're awake!", 'I recognize this voice…'. My vision comes back, a face appears, "Vee, is that you man? Ohh shit no way!" I cough "Ve…e…eee, w…ughhhat, are youuu doing here?", "Shit man, let me grab you some water!". "Don't bother, the ta..ehhh…p doesss…" I hear water pouring out the tap, 'What? How?'. The footsteps return, "Yeahhhh… haha, there was some weird water shortage for a few days, but the water is back now. "I found ya passed out on the floor this morning, the door open and all, what were you doing?", I take a sip of the water, it's clear, there is no taste to it, "I don't know what's going on with me man, I've been feeling strange these days!", "Oh FUCK! The Tree man, the TREE!", I push the blankets away, with a swiftness I make it to the door, glass in hand, I run towards the tree, stop, fall to my knees, glass empty and start crying. The tears fall, I try to wipe them with my hands, but they surround me, I'm soaking, I'm soaking. My shirt sticks to my body, 'OMG, it’s raining!', "Veeeee! It's raining! And the TREE!" Vee walks towards me, puts his hands on my shoulder, and says "it's alright man, I took care of it!"

A few months pass, I open the tap, the water fills the empty glass, it's clean water, the water is clean. I take a sip, and see the sun through the water as it goes down into my mouth. I pour another glass and look out the old wooden framed window, 'there it is, green and white', the flowers of the tree sprouting into something yet unknown. I head out, the day is warm, the puffy clouds no longer red, the air is soft and cool. I inspect some of the flowers on the tree, "these look quite familiar" I say to myself, "Grandpa use to have lots of Apple trees and Pear trees, maybe it's one of those? I hope it's Pear though, I really like Pears!".

Short Story
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About the Creator

Kamil Jan Bazan

This is me, documenting this life I have been given, through these mediums. I write/ film about what is currently going on in my life, topics can vary from traveling, hustling, overcoming challenges, etc. Find me at www.takkamil.com

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