The Trees

The Trees

A Story by Theodore Lee

Peter Jones and his friend Mason are coming back from a concert but out of nowhere, a tree comes out of the middle of the road.


All I seem to remember is the crash. I was driving with my friend, Mason, on our way home from a concert that we drove half-way across the state to see. It was dark out and the rain was so heavy, it was difficult to even see the road ahead of us. I was in the driver's seat and the radio was on. We were talking about the concert that had just taken place, and with three more hours to home, we had the time to kill. We weren't going that fast, but the crash was still pretty bad, thank god that no one was hurt, but I was still confused because there are never any trees in the middle of the road. Out of nowhere, the tree just appeared, and we crashed right into the great tree. When I came to, Mason was outside of my door, trying to get the door open and me out. I wasn't hurt too badly, and with only a small hit on the head, all I would need is a few bandages and a lot of aspirin.

I was able to break free of the seat belt that had saved my life and got out of the passenger side door.

"Dude, are you alright?" asked Mason with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What did we hit?"

"Nothing." he said as he gestured towards the empty road with nothing in it except the rain and our broken car, but I couldn't help but notice that there was a slight movement in the trees on the side of the road. I decided to investigate and what I found were giant tracks, as if the earth had been ripped apart from underneath it. Then there was a giant snap of a tree branch ahead of me then there was a dark spot, darker than the rest of the dark haze that surrounded me, and it moved deeper and deeper into the trees.

"Dude, we have to get out of here!" cried Mason over the downpour "There was a gas station only two miles away. We could get help." But by then it was already too late. I had ventured into the woods to seek this mystery. At the side of the road, there was a car, an old Mustang, but this had been there for at least twenty years or more. There was rust completely coating the roof and hood, wit beads of red coming onto the doors. It was right up against a tree, the tree bark scarred from the great wreck that must have happened.

Medical Report of Dr. Alexander M. Walus

The patient, Peter Jones, came into the hospital in a worse state than I have ever seen. Severe damage to the head and neck. The hands were broken in four places in the right and seven in the left. There was a bad cut on the left leg from the upper thigh past the knee that had been caused by the passenger, who was still conscious and able to get himself and his friend out of the car. He had only sustained minor injuries and was lucky to walk away from a crash that bad. I was surprised to see him alive to begin with. He was in the operation room for eight hours until his heart stopped, but was resuscitated and three hours later, he was stabilized. He was put into intensive care, but three years later he still hasn't woken up and is no presiding in the coma ward, where he remains today. There's no telling whether or not he will ever wake up, but all that can be done is being done to help him get his life back, but with no family present to make any decisions, there's not much that we are allowed to do at this point.

The thing that I saw, was big. Not the kind of big where it could easily push  me over, but this thing could easily pick me up and throw me away. Mason, still by the car is calling for me to return, but I could no longer hear him after I entered the forest,my curiosity was too great and by then I had almost forgotten that he was even there. As I went further in, the noise of overturning earth and cracking wood grew louder and louder and the trench looked fresher and fresher. I must be getting close to what ever we had hit.

I'm getting closer to it. I can see it, the branches moving in the wind and the roots gnarled and mangled, draped in the ancient moss that it has collected. The roots, unearthed, and moving the ancient giant, violently and as it did so, the dirt was ripped away from its place in the ground and found itself to be in a place where it was not familiar. The air is no place for dirt. In the rush of one of its lunges, the tree almost hit me with one of its roots. As I'm getting closer and closer, the tree becomes more and more clear. The scars from many crashes from cars covered the bark. The tree somehow looked to be in pain, as if every move it made causes the most unbearable agony for it. But why would a tree move, if it is in pain?

Official Police Report from Officer Thomas Blake

There seemed to be no apparent cause for the wreck other than there was water on the road, and the driver swerving into the side of the road, hitting the tree. The passenger, Mason DeMayo, made a statement that confirms this suspicion, when the individual said, after the passenger, Peter Jones, was taken to the hospital. DeMayo stated "I just lost control of the car. I knew that the road was wet, but I had been driving for almost 7 years now, and I thought that I could handle it. I only hope that Peter is alright." DeMayo also said that there was a dark presence, but he also said that it could have been a deer that was in the forest when the wreck happened. Given that DeMayo was in a state of shock, no further questions were asked, and his car, a 1978 Mustang registered to DeMayo, was towed away and removed from the scene, with severe damage to the front end of the car. There was a witness, who arrived on the scene of the wreck about 10 minutes after the event and alerted the police. The Man's name was Albert Manson, who lived not far away from the sight of the crash. Manson stated "I don't know what would have happened if someone hadn't shown up to help. I'm only glad that I heard it and ran out to help."

As I got close enough to touch the tree, I saw a carving on the tree, that had been there for a long time. It said only two names, etched inside of a heart. The manes were Tommy and Denise. They must have been teen lovers who went camping one weekend and thought that it would be a good idea to inscribe their names to make their relationship permanent. I can't help but think of a similar tree in which my girlfriend and I did just the same thing.

There was a cry out behind me. A woman was scared. Wanting not to abandon my curiosity, I hesitated, but just the thought that she could be in real danger, I left the tree and headed for the cry. The trees around me, like that of the moving tree, were old and wet. Moss hanging from all of them, and as I delved deeper into the forest, I lost sight of the light from the car. The mud was thick and everywhere. The search for the crying woman was tiring and burdensome, but she needed me. After about 10 minutes of walking through the trees and the mud, I came upon an old log cabin. The crying seemed to be coming from inside. I approached the house and did so carefully only to see a woman on her knees in the corner of the empty room, crying with her head in her hands.

Diary of Mr. Albert Manson

May 12th, 1986

Anne had another episode today, and I have no idea what I should do with her. She just cries in the corner and every time she does this, I have no idea what to do. All I seem to be good at is just watching her go through this. I've told Jason about this and he thinks that I should take her to a specialist who knows how to deal with people who are like her. Maybe he's right. I'll call around tomorrow and see who can help.

May 13th, 1986

I've found someone who knows just what to do to help Anne. Good thing I found him, because I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't found him. He told me over the phone, that she seemed to have bipolar disorder and those episodes she has isn't uncommon. He says that he'll take a look at her this week and we'll see what can be done after that. For the 12 years we've been married, Anne has never thought herself to be anyone who would be this much trouble, but I'm glad that we found someone who can help.

May 27th, 1986

I'm so glad that I found Dr. Dolius. It's only been about a week and already, Anne's been better off. She's smiling again, and I haven't seen her this happy in almost 2 years now. She started to garden again, and she pours all of the energy she has into that rose garden of hers and it is so beautiful. She really needed to see him, and I'm glad that she has.

I'm tempted to ask her what's wrong and why she's crying, but a part of me is saying that I shouldn't. I walk over to her silently, and bend down. Still not noticing me, she continues crying until I put my hand on her shoulder, where she is startled, and stops crying.

"Are you alright? What's wrong?" I ask, but as soon as I mention her crying, she starts crying again, but this time even stronger. "Everything's alright. I'm here. I'm sorry for scaring you." as I hold her tight and embrace her. As I embrace her, her crying grows weaker into a soft sob as she places her head into my chest.

"My name is Peter. What's your name?"

"Anne Manson." she says weakly.

"Why are you crying? What's wrong?" I repeat, trying to figure out what's going on. As I say this, I look down to see her red hair, and white lace dress, wondering why she is in this place.

"Do you live here?"

"I don't know." she replies with a soft voice, barely heard in between sobs.

"Why were you crying?" i asked

"I was in a dark place, and I found my shepherd to guide me to the light." she said, as if she was never even crying. It looked as if she had never even known the meaning of the word 'sorrow'.

"What was it like in the dark place?" I asked

She paused for a moment and looked down and said "I don't remember, please don't be angry with me."

"Why would I be angry with you? You haven't done anything" I say trng to calm her.

"Because, that's how everyone else is when I tell them that. They always get angry with me." she says raising her voice

"You don't have anything to worry about. We'll just look around to see if we can find a way out of this place." I say, trying to reassure her and also to try to convince her to leave this place. The house that we are both in is starting to get colder. The air around us is so cold that my breath is visible, but for some reason, I can't see her breath. I can see her breathing, I can see her chest moving with each breath that she takes, but no cloud is produced. I decide not to mention it and ignore it for now.

"I think we really ought to go now." I say trying to coax her into leaving

"I can't go now. I still haven't found him yet."

"Who are you waiting for?"

"You don't know who he is just yet, but you will one day. We all will finally see him."

"What is she talking about" I think to myself "who is she talking about and why is this person so important."

She remains quiet for some time, not listening to my eager suggestions to leave. I give up, thinking that it's completely pointless to convince her to do anything. She just keeps staring at the wall, completely ignoring me as if she can't even hear me.

There's a knock coming from the wall, and at this sound, she looks up with anticipation and stands up. I'm still trying to catch my breath because I was startled by the sudden noise interrupting the calm, sullen silence.

"What the hell was that?" I ask frantically

"He's here" she says with excitement. "He's finally here. After all these years, he's finally come to take me."

At this time, there was a light that came from outside that lit up the whole house. It was a bright light that surrounded the area in it's white glow. The sound of the wind came softly, then it grew, as if the source was coming closer and closer and it was roaring like no gust I have ever heard. The air was chopped up into fragments in it's blowing. At its height, the wind was right above us and the light was brighter than the moon on a clear night, was if a star was hovering above the house, creating the powerful wind. After this it began to fade, as did the wind that came with.

"No, this can't be" said the woman "there must be a mistake. he was supposed to come and get me. I was supposed to go with him." she says, with her tone going from sad and disappointed, to angry that she was forgotten so easily.

"What was that?" I ask, trying to figure out what is going on. Ignoring me yet again, she continues on "how could he just leave me here? He promised me that I would be with him." she said with a fiery voice, so strong, the air shook. At this time, I decide that I should probably leave the house, but I can't just leave her here, she needs someone to help her, but all of a sudden, her voice changes back to the weak, small voice she had when I entered the house.

"Hello, can you help me find someone?" she says to me

"Are, you alright? What was that light that just passed?"

"Oh, he must have just missed me, but he knows where I am, so I'll just stay here so he knows where to find me." she says as the air returns to its original temperature. I leave her there in her contempt in staying still for however long it takes for whatever it was that is looking for her to find her.

There's nothing by that house that can help me find the tree, but when I exited the house, the starlight was completely gone, only the light from the moon remained to guide my way back to the car. The tree was nowhere to be seen and there were no signs of it ever existing. I must have mistook the wind in the trees for a moving tree. In retrospect, the whole concept of a moving tree is completely ridiculous. I find my way to the road, but I can't find the car or Mason, so I try to walk down the road to find a gas station to get some help.

Two lights come up behind me after 20 minutes of walking or so, and I stick my hand out to try and get them to help me.

We're driving down the road and after we came back from a concert, my friend in the passenger seat, and out of nowhere, a tree comes into view in the middle of the road.

© 2018 Theodore Lee

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Theodore Lee
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Added on December 2, 2017
Last Updated on January 8, 2018
Tags: Mystery, Trees, Forrest, Coma


Theodore Lee
Theodore Lee

Cairo, Egypt

I write what I can and what that is is yet to be seen. I enjoy writing not because it's an escape from reality or even the thrill of creating an entre world of my own. I enjoy writing because I enjoy .. more..

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A Chapter by Theodore Lee