Amanda's Tree


 * Amanda's Tree

     The wind howled its haunting tune while the rain drops hit the window and slid down like a wounded bird. She stared at the window and listened to the pounding of the rain, like an angry mob trying to get her. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating her clear brown eyes.

     “Amanda…” She whispered to herself as she pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. ‘Yes,’ she thought, ‘that’s my name.’ As she was thinking over some unpleasant things, her door creaked open, just enough for her to see a ribbon of light. ‘It found me.’ Amanda thought. She had to swallow at least three times to get the lump in her throat to go down. With her eyes darting to the door and then the window, she got up quietly, stealthily. Amanda walked up to her window, placing her gentle fingers under it and sliding it up to open the huge thing, she put one foot on the window sill and looked down. Three storey drop. She looked ahead of her, even though she was being pelted by cold raindrops and the wind was shrieking in her ears, Amanda still could make out a faint outline of the tree. Her mind automatically went to sweet memories of playing on it. She remembered when her brother used to chase her and she would run in circles around the tree. Her door creaked open even more. All thoughts interrupted, she started to think of how to get to the tree. Amanda’s eyes darted to the door as she remembered her brother playing hide and seek with her. She used to open the window and easily jump onto one of the many tree branches. Then she would quietly climb up. Amanda closed her eyes tightly. ‘Eight years old. I’m eight years old again.’ The door opened half way. Amanda opened her eyes, not at all the scared and breathless teenager she was mere seconds ago, but now the jumpy eight year old that was having butterflies in her tummy as she jumped onto the nearest branch of the abnormally big tree. If she had to count, at least 14 storeys high. She successfully landed on a branch. Stumbling forward, she fell and caught it again, scarring her hand and dangling limply on it. She looked back to her room, seeing the figure twitch and contort with every step it took. Little did she know, that if she dared look down, she would see a flat stone with her name carved on it, along with the day she was born to the exact date it got her, the day she fell off her tree.