Family Tree

• Mia Armstrong, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2016

I knelt down at the base of the tree. The dark figure of mum stood behind me. “Relax”, Mum said softly as I lay my hands on the rough roots of the Red Gum. The sharp surface of the tree bit my skin like daggers as I gritted my teeth and lay my hands further onto the tree. “Be one with the tree, let it speak to you.” Mum breathed out slowly.
My name is Olivia.
The tree thing has been going on for days and it’s really starting to annoy me. I’ve tried getting out of it by doing my homework, but when I tell mum she just shrugs and leads me to the back garden. I’ve heard her talking to herself, something about “it’s time”. I try to get my mind off it by hanging out with my friends, but it still lingers there.
When I was going to sleep I heard mum’s footsteps as she hurried down the hall. I closed my eyes and snuggled down into the soft sheets of my bed. Soon after I heard the squeak of my door being opened. I opened my eyes with a flutter to see mum peering down at me. ”What?” I asked groggily as mum sat down on the edge of my bed. “Well…well, I need to tell you a story” said mum. “I’m not in the mood” I mumbled as I closed my eyes “It’s a story about our family” mum continued “it has been passed down for many generations.” And with that she started.
“On the night before mid-summers eve, a girl was seeking shelter from the howling wind. She was in a forest. The forest was dark and no life seemed to be inside it, the girl had hair the colour of fire and her eyes seemed to glow in the moon lit sky. The deep rustling made by the leaves fascinated the girl. The trees echoed a low whispering sound. The girl continued down the path and the sound made her uncomfortable, the trees seemed to say “Help Us!” “What can I do to help you?” She asked the trees. “Your hair, your hair, will give us life” they whispered around her. So the girl walked to the nearest tree and put her hand on its trunk. Suddenly a red light filled the night sky, the girls hair turned lighter until all the colour was drained away. “Thank you” they whispered around her “we would like to grant you a gift” “Okay?” the girl said. “We grant you and the rest of your family the power to speak with trees!”
“That lady was your great, great, great grandmother.” Mum explained. Suddenly I got it. “But, but” I stammered, mum broke me off “This power has been passed down. Now it’s your turn to use it.” And with that she stood up and walked out of my bedroom.