Weeping Willow
A picture frame shattered against the wall.
The faces smiling on the tattered picture now looked as if they ripped it out of a fairytale book.
A little girl sat crisscross on the ground of a lifeless room. The thin walls, painted a deep gray, complimented the splintered and scratched wooden floor.
She clung to a discolored, old teddy bear; its button eyes loose, its belly patched up with a blue fabric, and its stitches frayed. But to her, it was perfect.
She hugged the teddy bear, rocked back and forth, and shushed it. “It’s okay, Benny Bear,” she said under her breath.
She gazed at Benny Bear’s eyes. “The yelling?” he asked.
She shook her head, smiling. “That’s the sound of singing birds.”
She walked over to the small window, looking out onto a poorly cared for lawn. A sickly, weeping willow towered just outside. She held him up to the window. “See?”
Colorful birds decorated the willow, like ornaments on a Christmas tree. They sang the most beautiful song and hummed in sync with one another. They whistled high, like a symphony of violins. They whistled low, like a bass guitar.
Their wings sparkled in the sunlight streaming through the draping leaves.
She hummed along as she danced around the room, twirling in circles as she spun Benny Bear around with her.
The sunlight gleamed into her room, bleeding light onto the walls, turning them a golden yellow.
She fell to her knees as the bird’s song faded.
Her eyebrows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” she asked, noticing Benny Bear’s grim expression.
“The singing of the birds is beautiful, but what about the crying?” he asked.
“No, silly,” she said, petting his head. “That’s just the sound of a trickling waterfall.”
She pointed at her dresser. A fallen water bottle dripped water over the side. The small droplets became a stream pouring out glistening water. A puddle accumulated around the dresser. Soft, feathery grass sprouted through the cracks of the wooden floor, spreading around the room.
She brought Benny Bear over to the puddle, scooping her hand into the crystal-like water and pouring it onto him. His discolored coat transformed back to a rich brown. The blue patch stitched on his belly sparkled with glitter.
She grabbed a brush and combed back his matted fur. “Beautiful.”
She sat him down onto the grass filled floor and caressed her fingers through the gentle grass.
She flinched.
A splinter pricked her finger, tearing the illusions around her.
The sounds of singing birds, the golden walls, the glittery waterfall, the silky grass, and the vibrant coat of Benny Bear dwindled, like water down a drain.
Shaking her head, she clutched him tighter.
She stood up, walked to the door, and twisted the knob cautiously. Reluctantly.
Holding in a breath, she looked down at Benny Bear and smiled. “It’ll be okay,” she said.
She tiptoed down the hallway, following the sound of harsh words, shot around like bullets from a gun, and the sobs echoing down the hall.
Benny Bear whimpered.
“No, no. Don’t be scared,” she leaned her head against his. “Mommy and daddy will take care of us. Daddy will give me chocolate while mommy kisses my finger and wraps it in a band-aid. Like this,” she said, kissing his paw.
She stood frozen in the hallway.
Her eyebrows knitted as she backed up to her door, and her eyes glistened.
She hid back in her room.
She sat on the floor humming while she rocked back and forth. She shushed Benny Bear as tears streamed down her cheeks. “It’s okay… It’s just water for the flowers. I’m watering the flowers.”
The weeping willow withered.
