The Tree Man

"Well, Trust Issues Not To Mention"

"I saw him!" Jackson managed to breathe, as he sat in the murky maroon mud, his eyes glaring at us with the haunted glow of a full moon. He violently clutched at Mum's hanging frilly pink sleeve, her favourite shirt, worn at precisely the wrong time. "I SWEAR I DID!" At this point Jackson had buried his face in his mud coated hands, worriedly rubbing his pale terror-stricken face, occasionally clawing at his soiled, bedraggled brown hair. The lightning raged above our heads, as angry grey clouds hovered above us, perfectly reflecting the mood of the situation we were in at that moment. We all looked at each other; Aunt Rebecca, Emily, Mum, Dad, and of course, me. There was a moment of profound silence.

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Awkward! Yes that's right, we just had the most awkward dinner ever. I'm sure you can imagine, especially after such a dramatic occurrence. 

"Pass the veggies please!" Aunt Rebecca had mumbled, after a mighty spoonful of spaghetti. She seemed to be in a hurry. We were all in a hurry to be honest because as Jackson sat there, a daunted expression upon him, we all felt uncomfortable. He literally just sat there, whiter than the whitest sheet of paper, glaring at the meal he was not going to eat any time soon. "He was there," he kept on whispering, backed up against  the spine of the varnished vintage wooden chair. "He was." We all looked at each other across the table, the glances going about the whole table like a laser trap. There was no doubt about it, that after it got to a certain point of Jackson's creepiness, everyone at the table had started to chew slowly, as we all lost our appetite. 

"I saw him."

"That's enough Jackson. You CANNOT be buying into all of Grandma's silly stories. Don't be silly," Aunt Rebecca nervously giggled, as she slammed  her fork onto the side of her cream-coloured china plate.

Jackson adjusted his gaze. He fixed his lifeless grey sullen eyes onto Aunt Rebecca's terrified eyes. "I did". Jackson rose from the table aggressively, as the chair screeched behind him, leaving skid marks on the laminated floor. His fists were tightly clenched.

"SIT DOWN JACKSON AND STOP CREATING ALL OF THIS UNNECESSARY TENSION!" Mum bellowed from the side of the table, also slamming her cutlery onto the table . 

"YOU MUST BELIEVE ME! YOU MUST! YOU MUST! YOU MUST!!" Jackson yelled on top of his lungs, frantically waving his knife towards Mum's neck.

"NO JACKSON! THIS IS ENOUGH! I HAVE HAD ENOUGH JACKSON!" Mum bawled into her sleeve, backing from the table in a mess.

She stomped up the stairs, each step echoing in the silence of the room.  

Jackson turned to face the rest of us at the table. His thumb pointed towards the direction Mum had exited out of, as he sang that one line from the song from his favourite movie 'Suicide Squad' in a very eerie half whisper half screech. "Well trust issues not to mention," he croaked, as he sank back into his seat. He began tapping the table with a solitary finger as he  continued to sing, "They say they can smell your intention," and after that, he inhaled very deeply before slouching again.

"Psychiatric hospital maybe?" Emily whispered to me as she nudged me with her elbow.

"This is absolutely no time for jokes, Emz," I replied.