The Forest

There is a girl standing underneath a large, ancient willow tree. She looks up into its branches, long boughs twisting out towards her, beckoning her in for an embrace.

Come home, my child, it whispers. She looks around for the source of the voice, then turns her attention back to the tree.

Come home, my child.

She steps fearfully back. The arms become more twisted and knotted as the whisper grows in the girl's mind. She turns and begins to run away from the ancient willow which once brought her such comfort. The sky grows grayer, the sun disappearing from view.

Come home, my child.

Home? This can’t be home. Home is safe, not twisted and ashen. The girl looks behind her and sees that, though she is now running at full speed, the distance between her and the willow remains the same. A small hole that she had not noticed before grows in the trunk of the ancient willow.

Come home, my child.

The girl is crying now, screaming for help. There must be someone that can hear her. The hole in the willow grows ever larger, as if it is preparing to swallow her. Its final embrace.

Come home, my child.

This isn't home. This can’t be home.

***

Olive woke up in a cold sweat, already standing tensely at her open window. She caught herself on the sill before she could collapse entirely and breathed deeply, willing herself back into her present reality.

Just a dream.

She had been having a lot of these dreams since leaving home. Probably something to do with homesickness - nothing to worry about, really. Though she never experienced it herself, Olive knew from her reading that when children first leave their homes it is often accompanied by great anxiety. Of course, in most of those stories the kids are able to visit their families, which provides an easier transition into adulthood. Olive did not have such luxury, as an outsider. She had never left her home before a few months ago, and the memories surrounding that departure were still a confused haze. Probably related to jet lag - time zone changes are always difficult. Or so she had read.

“Everything okay?” Olive turned to see her roommate in the doorway, rubbing their eyes.

“Yes. Sorry, Elliot. Just a bad dream.”

“Ah…” Elliot shuffled their feet, looking around the room, unsure of what to do. Olive rolled her eyes and walked back to her bed, her muscles still aching from the tension of the dream. She wondered if she really had been running in her sleep.

“Um. Do you want me to like...do you need any company?” Elliot still had not moved from the doorway.

“I think we both need to go back to bed. Big test tomorrow, right? I appreciate your kindness, though.”

“Right. Econ. Yeah. Fucking terrible class, ha.” Still no movement.

Olive rolled her eyes again. “Are you okay?”

“Oh thank god finally. No, no I am not okay.” Elliot finally began pacing back and forth at the foot of her bed (which, considering how small of a space they were in, was enough to make Olive dizzy.) “That stupid asshole had the absolute NERVE to upset me the night before my first midterm of grad school. Long distance sucks, we knew this going into it, but we agreed to try and stick it out. And I was the one who needed convincing! Because I wanted to focus on myself! And not us! Just me! But noooo, he ‘couldn’t live without me’, he ‘promised to be understanding and patient.’ Fucking yeah right. One month in and we didn’t say a word to each other. Another month in, still nothing. I finally - finally - decided to be the bigger person and reach out first, and who picks up? HIS GIRLFRIEND. I’m sorry, Patrick, I didn’t realize we were in a polyamorous relationship! Or I would have acted very differently the past couple months! God, men suck.”

After a beat of silence, they finally sank down onto the foot of the bed, head in their hands.

“...You didn’t breathe that whole time.” Olive looked at her roommate with a sort of tired curiosity.

Elliot looked back at Olive, who was shivering under the covers despite her sweat. “I’m such an ass, sorry. Bad timing. Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need some water?” Olive nodded, then savored the brief seconds alone in her room, breathing in the still-warm air. It was September in Indiana, and summer was holding on for dear life. Olive hoped it would hold on longer…

“Here you go.” Elliot handed her the glass and stood expectantly by the bed, frowning down at her. “Do you remember what it was about?”

“You know I don’t.” Only a partial lie. All she remembered was running. Panicking and running. She lifted the glass to her lips and let the cool water wash away the bile that had been rising in her throat since she awoke. “Thank you. I’m sorry about Patrick. But that was last week. What did he do tonight?”

Elliot sighed and laid down on top of the covers next to Olive, pinning her underneath. Snug as a bug in a rug. “He wanted to explain himself. Said it was some sort of...miscommunication? I don’t know. Wants to get back together.”

“What did you say?”

“Hell no.”

“Good.”

“But-”

“Elliot!”

“BUT! That doesn’t mean like...no forever. It’s only a year long program. I told him to give me this year and we’ll see what happens afterwards.” Their eyes glazed over a bit - Olive had learned in the short time they had been roommates (friends?) that those eyes meant they were lost in their own head. Somewhere in the future with a white picket fence and a dog and a job at the United Nations. She smiled at Elliot a bit sadly.

“Well, let’s try and be where our feet are planted for the rest of the year, then, shall we?”

Elliot nodded in agreement and gave her a hug, then quickly hopped out of bed and walked towards the door. “Get some rest. I’ll wake us both up tomorrow - Dunkin’ is on me.”

“You know I don’t drink coffee.”

“Well yeah, I meant my Dunkin’ is on me. But I guess I can snag a donut too.” They winked and shut the door behind them, leaving Olive alone once more.

As soon as she heard her roommate’s bedroom door shut, she again walked over to the window, knowing that she would not sleep. The warm September breeze carried a light autumn scent to Olive’s nose - a smell that she was accustomed to, even if she had never experienced the blisteringly cold, snow and sleet-filled winter she knew was on its way. She thought about the harvest back home, and the games that would accompany it. Her mother and sister would be baking bread for the week ahead, kneading the dough firmly yet tenderly, the same way in which they spoke to her. They had always been two peas in a pod; Olive wondered if they still were, or if they mourned her absence too greatly to go about living as if nothing had happened.

The equinox festival would be this weekend on the island. Perhaps she could find some event in Bloomington that would make her feel less homesick. Something to remind her of her old home as she grew accustomed to her new one. She would be able to observe the customs and compare them to her own traditions as well as the stories she grew up reading about Pagans in America. A social experiment to calm the nerves, she laughed to herself. No wonder I had to leave the island.

As the thought crossed her mind, a flicker of her dream came back to her. For just a moment, she saw in her mind’s eye an ancient willow with a gaping hole in its trunk. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, leaving her palms sweating and her breath quickening.

Just homesickness, nothing more, she reminded herself. But her attempts to convince and quiet her mind were futile. Rational evidence did not matter to her spiraling thoughts. She began tracing Elliots footsteps back and forth across the small open space of her cramped room. And then she tried to recall the night she left her home. She had done so before - tried, that is - but the memory remained hazy, as if shrouded by a dense fog.

-I was at dinner with my mother and sister, chatting and laughing as I would any other night.

-I started feeling weird. Some sort of intense pride for my home, my island...happy, but in a manic way.

-My mother and sister looked more scared than I had ever seen them.

-Mother helped me pack my bags and told me it was time for me to see the world.

-An open field, a large open sky. I had never seen the sky so big before

-Flying in a helicopter...no, an airplane. Maybe both? Definitely flying in something, which I had never done before.

-Sleeping. So much sleeping.

-A bus, and then arriving at Indiana University for some sort of advising appointment.

From there the memories became clearer - her mind became clearer. She remembered being so excited to - as her mother said - see the world. It is something she had always wanted, but thought she would never be allowed to leave the island. Her advisor was incredibly impressed with her (forged) application and CV, and was all the more impressed once she had demonstrated her academic capability. Fluent in upwards of ten languages? Knowledgeable already on the inner workings of not only the governments of large, powerful countries, but of small villages dotted across the world? How have you come to possess such knowledge, Olive, at such a young age? You are wise beyond your years. We are delighted to have you in the program. She didn’t know, of course, that Olive was but an average twenty-three year old young woman back home. Expected to understand the way the Earth and Her people move and interact. She was not an impressive figure. She was simply Hellen.