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His Majesty the Tree
Frozen. Afraid. Alone.
The two little girls with blond braids were running. Walking. Resting. They had been walking between the trees and rocks for hours. Between the land and the lakes. Between the clouds and the rain. Hours they had been lost, arriving there in the early morning with the promise of a heavenly day with their parents. A picnic, followed by a game of hide-and-seek that had gone on too long.
The youngest, Rebecca, nine short years old, whimpered. Tears bathed her cheeks, flowed, fell to the ground. The older one, Sophia, ten years old, comforted her as best she could. She too was afraid. She too wanted to go home. She too wanted to cry. But she couldn't decently afford this healthy let-down for her nerves. She had to be strong and protect her sister from the forest, from madness.
"One... Two... Three... Four..."
Sophia remembered her father's voice as she hugged her little sister. He counted. He was counting and they were running. Quickly, a tree. Quickly, a rock. Quickly, a bushy bush. Let's hide! Hide! Sophia remembered. Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute. Ten minutes. Silence. Rebecca's whispered laughter. She had followed her. Then the time. The time that was passing. Dad not coming back. Rebecca remembered. The sun shining. The sun hiding. The rain that fell. And no call. No father. No mother. The silence.
The evening had fallen. The night laid its coat on the gigantic forest. The home of monsters and nightmares. The little girls with blond braids, dressed in a wool vest, did not move. Refrigerated. They hoped. They shouted. Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! But... Only a few squeaks, a few grunts, a few breezes of wind answered them. No more Daddy. No more Mom. Alone. Frozen. Afraid.
Alone.
Rebecca had finished crying. Too tired. Too Afraid. Didn't want to attract the monsters. Didn't want to attract anyone. Except for Daddy. Daddy who wasn't coming back. Sophia listened, looked around. The trees, huge colossus of wood and leaves. Huge colossuses of life and fear. Their branches were dancing, undulating. They were alive. Holding her sister a little closer to her, she thought. They had to find their way back to the road. Yes, the road. And then people would take them home.
- Come on, come on Rebecca!" she cried, walking with a sure step, adult.
Rebecca followed her. Followed her in the night, in the forest, in her nightmare. And the little girls with blond braids walked, walked on and on. They were walking in circles in the forest. No more paths. No more landmarks. Only darkness, the trees, the animals, the cold, and the rain.
- We've already been there!" Rebecca began whimpering, pointing to the tree with two trunks.
- I know..." Sophia replied, rubbing her head with both hands.
The tree with two trunks. The tree without leaves. The tree that stood proudly in its forest, in its den. The king, the monster. In the middle of its two trunks, a hole. A deep black hole. A hole that only wanted to catch little girls with blond braids. Rebecca was looking at the hole. Looking at her sister. Crying and fear soon came. The tree wanted to eat them. To devour them. Make them disappear from the forest. Eliminate them from the Earth. What were they doing there in the first place, those little girls with blond braids?
They left. To the right. The tree. To the left. The tree. In front, behind... The tree. No matter which direction they went, the tree was there. Again and again. Sophia, more confident. No more barriers. She knelt, there in the wet, muddy earth, and finally, she let herself go. She cried and cried and cried. Rebecca hugged her. And cried too. The little girls with the blonde braids had gone all the way. They couldn't do it anymore. They couldn't go any further. They couldn't go back. No more hope.
The hole in the reddish-red tree. called. The little girls looked at him. Was it a promise of warmth? Of comfort? It didn't matter. They looked and looked at each other. An acquiescence. A pact. Yes, let's go. The trunk opened. The wood cracked. The branches danced above them. It didn't matter if it was a dance of joy or a dance of doom. It was over. The forest had won.
The little girls with blond braids advanced towards the tree king. They knelt before the hole.
They were been swallowed up.
No more little girls with blond braids in the forest. No more crying. No more fear. No colder. the night, the wind, and the leaves. The forest became silent again, majestic.
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