flash forward fables fifth place!

The Last Tree

by Amira Morales Palomera

 

A layer of skin that holds memories. From deep beneath, reaching out for sun, the first is simple. The first swish of wind and hug of warmth, ingrained in her soft bark. The same plays out, again and again, building her bark strong. Days of rain, days of sun, days that she stands simply existing all imprint on her malleable skin. Come animals, they want. Her arms outstretch with her fruits and lungs, they invite. A connection is made, and she gives. Air and energy come from her, and the animals repay. Her roots now reach new land, and under her paths reach miles to children all alike. She watches animals, their balance of life. Survival of the fittest ensues, and another layer forms, one that knows blood. She now knows life, and it’s ending in death. Yet the cycle is one that’s necessary, one that never oversteps, she knows. Days of dancing with the wind, being hugged by light, and watching evolution all ensue, building more layers.Then comes a bipedal animal, a trait she’s never seen. Fire, a consuming wrath that cackles, eating with no end. It adds a layer thick and strong. She watches as her children fall, their bodies carved by the animal to weapons of bloodshed, piercing life nimbly. Yet she stands tall, the animal is just playing their part in the cycle of life, she knows that. Her children begin to surround her and they stand together, each building another layer with the wind and light standing by their sides. The animal evolves alongside them, keeping in packs, using her children to build themselves into strong communities. She watches in the thick of the woods, learning the human way. Under the cloak that night pulls she sees empathy, guilt, compassion, shame. The emotions that humans hold. Watching the secrets they keep only at night, the memory seals into her veins. No other animal she knows loves to such endless bounds, yet she also knows no animals that hold such spite in their heart. She watches as they migrate, their feet traveling till their kind reaches as far as her roots. 

Then one day, she watches as new ones come to her land's shores, being different, yet completely the same. It’s after this that her layers hold more blood than balance. She hears cries, hate, fear, and greed. She watches as people push and pull, spreading death on the land that grows no life in return. With new people brings a new item as well. Like the death brought, it disrupts the cycle. Metal, guns, they don’t give back to grow, they stay the same, grown around instead. Days of getting hugged by sun and showered by rain still make layers, but now layers singed with blood embed themselves. She now knows true hatred, yet compassion. There comes a day when the bloodshed stops however, and her layers get to face peace once again. Her children seem to dwindle now, as with every new human comes need of more land, land her children occupy. Her roots now know the sharp pain of stabs as drills separate her connections, collecting oil that once lived beside her, now just another layer. The smog that she first saw from fire now replaces the clouds that once grazed her, the dark swirls hurting her lungs. She knows that humans do this, yet she continues to give her fruits and air as she has hope for the compassion within the human heart that she knows is there. Her roots now get painted with cement, paths stretching along her land still, yet with no room to grow again. The roads only bring more smog, and her children weep for their layers to be built with days of dancing with the air once again. Yet she stays hopeful, as she knows humans will have their time to give back. Then comes the day where she watches as people gather from far and wide to discuss a new finding of energy, one found deep within her children’s cores themselves. She builds a layer with hope that day that no layer should be built tainted with blood like before. 

She now finds herself standing tall and alone. Her children no longer weep, all that’s left are their rings, stumps unrooted and shoved into dumps where memories lay to die. She finds herself surrounded by buildings that know no memories, built to stay the same, to be hosed clean when blood splatters. Today she makes her last layer, being suffocated by unchanging  metal that wraps around her tight. She stands as the last tree, and the one with the most powerful energy core. She finds herself facing humanity, watching the greed boiling in those with suits up top that stare at her from their shining window as others weep on their knees, their tears sinking down to her severed roots. She knows that her death could come eventually, but she also knows it doesn’t have to be now. She knows she will give back no life, her death will only fuel the death of her dark dying earth. The metal sheath holding her gets taken off and for a moment, she gets to be free again. In that moment she feels the burning embrace of smog and the steady bland breeze of fans. The blade is pushed against her skin yet she still stands tall. Soon it dives into layer after layer, cutting through days of sorrow, joy, peace, and fear till it reaches today again. A layer built with the spite of humans, one that won’t get to see the love of a human heart ever again.