ALL THAT WAS LEFT BEHIND

Because Of Cathy

Breathing heavily, I continued to crouch in that uncomfortable position in the bush. Moments of time flicked by me, without much action occurring.

            The wind heaved against me, resulting in me losing my balance for a moment, and nearly toppled over. After I regained my positioning, I poked my head up out of my hiding spot in the bush to see that Lincoln was still unaware of my presence, and sat with his head leaned back against a tree with his eyes closed. I examined the area behind me, only to see the thicket of trees whipping their leaves around in the blustery weather. Slowly, I unfolded myself to begin to make my way backwards. Still in a crouched position, I crawled back towards the trees.

            My breath shook and my eyes anxiously danced around the lively moving forest as I scuttled around like a crab moving in slow motion. After every few moments, I stopped to listen for any stirrings from Lincoln.

            To my astonishment, I bumped right into the tall tree I aimed for with a hard collision. I scoffed at my stupidity for not looking, and tried to rub my back from the surprise injury. After remaining silent for another period of ever lasting seconds, I gazed up at the tree, finding that it went on forever into the sky without questioning its boundaries.

            Besides its intimidating height however, the tree was perfect. It had multiple sturdy branches that brushed down low enough for me to reach, and went like that up high into the green safety of the pine leaves.

            The moment in which I stood up to my full height, above the sanctuary of the bushes was tormenting. I really had no idea what I would be witnessing from up there, if anything, or why it would be so important, but I pressed forwards any ways, despite that every fibre in my body told me not to.

            My heart pounded and beat on my chest, not wanting to be forced into the distress.

            Cautiously glancing at Lincoln, I made sure that he was still lounging on the ground before I placed my hands on the tree. I did so ever so carefully and quietly as I searched for the appropriate branch to prop myself up on. I first gripped the one that hovered slightly over my head with both of my hands, and then slowly lifted myself off of the ground.

            My feet scrambled to meet with the tree trunk to boost me up. My weight pulled down on me, already straining my arms, and I dreadfully wished that I was stronger. The pain began to stretch its way through my limbs, and I could feel it rippling my arms as I pulled my belly onto the first branch.

            Taking a break to breathe, I rested myself on there for a moment. I scanned the area once again, watching the wind rip through the forest like some crazed, unseen spirit, and Lincoln changed his positioning. I panted and shook the fear from my trembling hands, one by one, before I continued.

            Eventually I had my feet on the branch with me, and I could awkwardly crouch upwards, while clinging onto the tree. I then reached up for another branch, and continued to pull myself up the tree, while receiving many sharp scrapes along the way.

            According to my watch, it was ten minuets later when I was halfway up the tree after continuing the painful routine. I settled on the sturdy branch and rubbed my chapped, scraped up hands over my jeans, trying to ignore the sense of groundlessness I had.

            My only other experience climbing trees took place back in my early childhood years. I must have been around six years old when Terrance proposed the brilliant notion that our hide out in the park should be high in the dead trees. I watched Terrance and a few other neighbourhood kids whip through the branches like monkeys, only relenting to their ways when the called up to me. At first, the feeling was implausible, to be propped up so far from the solid ground. I looked to the other with a sense of pride, which went unnoticed amongst them. It wasn’t too long when I attempted to get to the top, where I slipped on a slimmer branch, plummeting to the muddy ground.