The Oak Tree

• Grace Pruszinski, Grade 8, Emmaus Christian College
• Short Story
• 2018

Excellence Award in the 'Write Along 2018' competition

The big, old oak tree in the centre of town has stood tall for many years. No one really pays attention though. It always looks the same, just a huge, wrinkly, oak tree. But today is something different. There are flags marked around the tree. Workers are putting up fencing and setting out cones. Power tools are buzzing and trucks are being unloaded.
“Excuse me, little girl, I need you to move out of the area, please!” A man yells at me.
“What are you doing?” I ask him. The man comes closer.
“We’re building more shops and offices,” he says.
“You mean you’re cutting down the tree?” I ask him tentatively. The man nods.
“We’re making way for the modern world now!” He exclaims. I stare at him for a moment. “Sorry, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. We’re about to start work,” he tells me. I turn around and walk to a park bench across the road, watching from a distance. The man turns and begins to yell orders and wave his hands about.
In a few minutes, there are men with tools walking everywhere. They are all busy setting up for the huge task ahead. I can’t imagine what the town would be like without the tree. I wish there is something I can do.
The workers are gone, there is no one hurting the tree now. I go over and squeeze under the fence. I navigate through the trucks and equipment. I sit and watch the tree dance in the breeze. The tree talks to me, a voice in the wind, asking me for help.
“Help me! Please, save me!” It whispers. I feel sad. I don’t want it to die. People don’t seem to care. They don’t care about the environment, they destroy it to benefit themselves. I want to help the tree, I just don’t know how. I reach up and touch a low branch.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
The next day all the workers come back. Today, there is the buzz of chainsaws. It is very loud. They are ready to begin work. Some get in the crane at the back of the truck and are raised up to the branches, chainsaw revving. I run to the fence and start yelling. Suddenly there is one big THWACK! A branch comes crashing to the ground.
Throughout the day there are more loud noises and more branches fall. I watch sadly as the tree is ripped apart limb by limb. There is nothing I can do. When darkness comes and the workers go home, the tree is bare.
The next day is the same, BUZZ, THWACK then BOOM! Finally, the trunk and roots are yanked from the earth.
Big, new, shiny buildings take the place of the oak tree. Years pass and people forget. I miss it. I try to tell myself it’s not such a big deal, try to convince myself that it doesn’t matter. But it does.