The Tree (rough draft)

[RosettaStoned]

Not quite sure if this belongs here because it is an autobiographical short story, or memoir, whatever you would like to call it. So moderators, if you need to move it, ya know, I'm fine with that . Alright, well here's a pretty rough draft of my story The Tree, I JUST finished it last night (well, this morning technically), so I'd like any comments/criticisms/etc. that you guys would like to share with me. Thank you for taking the time to read this.

The Tree

When I was a little boy, there resided on my grandfather's land one lonely tree. A thick trunk standing as wide as my arm-span, well, just about. Various branches, the trees arteries and veins, coming out in every which way and at varying angles. The leaves: its nerves.

My brother, the captain of our endeavors, and I explored the land with a fine-tooth comb; a comb with razor-sharp teeth with their distance being that of the stride of a seven year old's sloppy-laced shoe-covered feet. And yet, there stood no other tree like this one. A desolate valley of grass with only one blemish: Our tree; it all stood in the likeness of Marilyn Monroe's beautiful face.

But with all the tree's beauty and glory in the summer, it grew increasingly bitter as fall drew near. Lackadaisical from blood loss, stumbling and staggering in the wind like a drunkard, our Tree's nerves withered and died, dirtying the ground below.

We relished in the Tree's self-loathing. Danced in the lifeless nerves until we were all itchy, until grandfather was bitchy, and we all went in for Sunday's suppers. All the while, our Tree shed its tears of red and gold asking, "Why now? My beautiful botanic children, why must you leave me now?"

But then it had passed: fall was made to leave, while Winter numbed our Tree. We had forgotten its beauty for the endless sea of flakes and pale cakes in the front lawn. Trying to love the frost, regardless of its shuddering animosity: that cold shoulder. We molded it in our own image and then watched the spring kill us.

As the rains fell, thirsty for hard-drink, our Tree gobbled it up. The fields: drenched; there sat a crevice along the path, cut across the width of the lawn, which cupped the water for the earth to drink. To cross it would now be a mere step, then, however, it required patience and a delicate foot.

Regardless of our careful steps, from the soils seeped mud and dead grass still onto our shoes beyond the ditch, which left selfish and abstract art all over the carpets. Yet everyday we trudged out to see our Tree.

Then as those humid summer evenings visited more frequently, the ones in which we could scarcely breath, our Tree finally opened its pores to allow the fresh air in. Passing winds rattle the new-born leaves; sounds resounded like Poseidon's mighty sea.

It was at this time when my brother got that twinkling of adventure within his eyes. Everyday he climbed a little more and more, and everyday said, "Brother, won't you come here? We will climb our Tree together." Until one day he climbed until there was no further point to reach.

And still to this day, I have not climbed but to sit on the first few rungs of our Tree. Instead I lay here, 3 in the morning, craving narcotics, wishing that there was somehow some way to overcome the hopeless heights of my Tree.

[MY_NAME]

I'm not good with constructive critisism-(Spelled???), so I'll tell you that I do like it, It shows alot of detail. Also, I must tell you to climb the damn tree already .

[Marlinark]

I love it! I have been reading and doing audio for money books for years now and must say that this has a potential. Revise it up a little more and add some unique wording in there and you could go far with audio

[RosettaStoned]

Wow, thanks for the comments guys. And yea, it's okay MY_NAME, I'm not very good at that type of stuff either, and YES, I'm trying to climb the tree, but it's rather difficult :\, haha. And also thank you Marlinark, it's really good to hear things like that, especially from someone with experience such as yourself.

[Cinders]

It's pretty darn good. The tree descriptions could be spiced up a little more. It became a little hard to wade through. Perhaps a hint that something is amiss with the description in the middle? To tantalize us readers.

The end came off well, it surprised me (which I like). Now, I'm not sure if the detailed description of the tree has anything to do with the addiction part, or if it was just a misdirection.

Good job though!

[RosettaStoned]

Thank you for your comment Cinders.

Alright, to give you a rough layout. The tree represents all the things in life which we don't overcome, or don't want to overcome. Standing in awe of this beautiful tree, the ups and downs of its long stationary life. I mean, it's kind of just about my life, you know? The ending is just what it is, it's the truth of what happened when I was writing.

Now, the tree CAN represent the craving/need/want for drugs, however it represents SO much more, just about everything in life.

My personal favorite part about this, is just finding the beauty in the tree's self-destruction, and how the decay of something can yet be so beautiful and happy at the same time. Pretty similar to an opiate addiction, I guess, but that shouldn't be the main focus of the story. I don't know, I'm kind of rambling, heh, not enough sleep : | (brain dead). I guess if I succeeded in confusing you even more, I could attempt another errr, more concise and clear explanation when I'm more awake. I'm glad you all enjoyed it, there's just some rough things I need to work out still.