I Should Have Saved The Tree

• Tinko Huston, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2019

I should have saved the tree. I know that now, and It’s haunted me ever since. But it wasn’t my fault. Not really-but it still happened…it’s a long story. But since I’m here, I might as well start from the beginning…and tell you what really happened.

Lunch had started, and I was sprinting down to the library, but I stopped when I ran past the old grove that we used to eat at in grade four, and quickly got lost in memories (I tend to do that). Here was where I worshiped Bobby-the Bunya-Pine. I used to give him hugs and dress him in my scarf, and I still did… sometimes. It was beautiful place, holding a wooden bench and a weathered brick floor, surrounded by greenery. But not today. The meandering path that led to the grove was closed and the actual grove was blocked off. I forgot about the library, because as I looked more closely, some builders were surrounding Bobby. Holding chainsaws. It took me five seconds to realise that: builders with chainsaws+bobby=no more Bobby. It was too long. In those five seconds, the builders had revved up their chainsaws and were advancing towards Bobby. I wanted to run and grab those chainsaws out of their filthy paws. I didn’t. My legs felt frozen to the ground, and I wanted to scream at them, and tell them how dare they try and kill Bobby. I did, but they couldn’t hear me over the roar of the chainsaw… and they were wearing earmuffs. So, I just stood there, watching as Bobby fell to the ground. He hit it with a thud, and it rolled around in my ears like thunder. But as I was staring, gobsmacked…something happened. A great roiling dryad rose up from the trunk, and what I saw of its face showed me that it was mad, and it wanted to hurt us. As it came away from the trunk, it lunged towards the builders… and me. We turned and ran for our lives, screaming as we went (because it’s the only logical thing to do). We ran around the school, and more people came and joined our mob of people. The people who didn’t soon followed when they saw Bobby. We made it to the hall, all of us except for the head builder, who fortunately ‘unfortunately’ didn’t make it in time. The dryad caught up with him… and let’s just say that it wasn’t a pretty sight. He was screaming the whole time Bobby’s dryad ripped his legs off in a bloody mess, and eventually faded away. The builder survived…just, and we went home, and life continued.

But now I’m here, 2 months later, racing down to the library. As I pass the grove, something catches my eye. Something that makes me stop right in my tracks; from a hole in Bobby’s severed trunk, a tiny green shoot is sprouting, making its way toward sun, receiving a second chance at life…