The fragrance of the potted plants placed near the shops on the sidewalk were dampened by the petrichor, heavy in the atmosphere. Bells could be heard ringing as the doors to the pastry stores opened then closed with a sharp smack, releasing an aroma that completely juxtaposed the current predicament.
“Hey, how many fingers am I holding up?”
A blurry form sways in the air with small carrots sprouting out of it.
Alice, ignore him.
I look down and gaze at my blurry shoes. I could feel the rain splash up from the cobbled sidewalk. The splash of the freezing rain rippling against my boots. The boots that I can barely see.
The accompanying lack of words is filled with the incessant pitter patter of the rain bouncing off the uneven sidewalk, splashing in random trajectories, scattering dark blotches on the ground.
“Hey, where are you looking? My hand is up here!”
A chorus of laughter bounces around me.
Alice, ignore him. Ignore them.
My umbrella sags to one side as a gust of wind whistles by. Droplets flick off the metal prongs of the umbrella and hit my numb skin like frozen bullets. The roar of the rain against the umbrella is deafening.
“Are you deaf now too?”
I close my eyes and cover my ears.
Remember Alice, ignore them. Filter them out.
“Hey, I’m talking to you, you know? Look at me!”
I can hear the giddiness in his voice, the jeering of the onlookers. I hear a loud smack followed by a sharp pain on my right cheek. Finally, I look up, and open my eyes.
In front of me is a tree. Followed by an expanse of...nothing. The sky is slightly cloudy, tinged with orange. The ground is a perfect reflection of the sky. An endless mirror.
“Welcome back.”
I smile. I’m safe now. I’m home. I can relax. I close my eyes and sigh in relief.
“Hey, how many fingers am I holding up?”
A cold voice snaps me back to the gray chill and shatters my atmospheric serenity. I open my eyes in surprise and see a short and stout figure outlined in a gaussian blur, still waving around a ball with carrots pointing up. Two dark snowflakes at his eyes and a nasty pink fuzz at his mouth.
I look away, shutting my eyes harder than before, forcing myself to deny this reality. A shower of black blankets my field of vision accompanied by a slight pain in the back of my head. A moment later, a white floor expands around me, recreating the empty yet peaceful and warm, world that I had just been suddenly plucked out of. My own reality; my own surreality.
“Well, that wasn’t too long of a wait,” a happy voice said. “You don’t visit me much anymore.”
I look around for the voice and see the tree after turning completely around. An old tree, withered and with few leaves. I could make out every individual nook and cranny on the tree and watched the dancing shadows of its rustling leaves.
I smiled wryly. “Life’s been rough.”
“You always had a problem when you came here,” the tree groaned soothingly. “What brought you here today? Did something happen?”
I remained silent.
A much gruffer voice suddenly exclaimed, “Hey, why are you being so rude, huh?”
I feel hands push my shoulders, push me out of my calm and back into the rain. My umbrella is knocked aside and I am falling. I land with my arms outstretched, large scratches accumulating on my palms, blood flowing out of my newly opened wounds.
The rain pours down, drowning out all other noises. It drowns out the laughing. Yes...it drowns out the laughing. It plasters my hair to my face, over my eyes. It lands on my skin like burning bullets of icy agony.
The rain stops drowning out the laughter, my shame. I raise my hands and cover my ears as best as I can. Ignore them. But I can’t. I can hear the incessant laughs through the slits between my fingers, can visualize the chubby carrots being pointed at me. I shut my eyes again, as hard as I could.
“Hey, are you alright?”
I am perched atop the tree’s branches, legs dangling down towards the mirrored ground carelessly.
I remain silent.
The tree remains silent as its numbered leaves swayed.
The tree sighed.
“Everyone’s had hardships,” the tree said in a motherly tone.
I roll my eyes. “Right, like everyone can barely see what’s in front of them and gets the wrong attention for it.”
“No, but that’s not what I meant and you know it,” the tree harrumphed, swinging its branches back and forth. “When I was a sapling, my branches were populated by rows upon rows of leaves. Animals would swarm my limbs and the warmth of the sunlight shined upon every surface of my being. My life was bliss, but it all ended abruptly. A series of storms blew in, tearing my leaves away, tearing the animals away. Several of my branches snapped off and I was battered and beaten during every second of it. The rain would trickle down my wrinkles, as if it were trying to cleanse me from this world. My roots were flooded, my leaves were gone along with the animals and the sunlight that would shine upon me everyday. But I could always make out the small glare of hope through the clouds of gray, through the pouring storm, through the deafening wind. The glare of warmth, of the sunlight that used to wash over me. I could see it, and so I held onto it, tightening my roots, awaiting for the sunlight to shine on me once again, and it did. My leaves are now gone, my branches are few in number, and the animals will never return, but I am still here, rooted to the ground.”
The tree harrumphed again, shaking its limbs, showing me the aftermath of its battle, “You are in your own storm right now, and you must find your own roots and stay strong.”
I look up at the sky and bring my hand up to shield my face from the glare. Through the slits of my fingers I watch the few branches of the tree sway, covering and uncovering the sun, feeling the sunlight wash over me and fill me with warmth and courage. I take a deep breath, “Thanks for everything,” and close my eyes.
The raindrops fall down my shoulders and the laughter has come back. Through my closed eyelids, I can see that the sky has darkened. I slowly open my eyes and see a large pair of black chopsticks upright before me. My eyes wander upwards, this time not looking for carrots sticking up, but for what laid beyond them. I follow the tube connected to the carrots up to the armpit of the person standing before me. I crane my head down, until finally, I spot it. I can see the sun. I can see past this storm. I can root myself and grow.