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we are one

(SHORT STORY)

A woman visits her sister.

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The air was cold. The sun has just started rising above the ground coloring the sky in pastel pink and yellow shades. Everything was quiet in and around the cemetery for miles, except for the early birds, who were greeting the sun and the new day it was bringing to the still earth.

At the very edge of the cemetery, a little further away stood a motionless giant, an old oak, which has been standing there long before the cemetery started growing ingesting more and more patches of land. The tree stood there claiming its ground unapologetically. Its roots, strong and twisted, extended a long way around the mighty tree and heaven knows how deep beneath it.

Eerie rumors surrounded this oak in the small village nearby the cemetery. She heard such stories when she was small from his grand grandmother. On warm summer evenings, she used to sit in an old armchair and tell these tales to her and her sister. They were both terrified of them. Yet they pleaded to be told the story of the soul-eating tree which decided to accommodate itself right near the last retreat of weary souls on this earth.

The thought of her sister pricked a little. She shook her head and continued slowly approaching the oak.

She remembered the fascination with which they listened about it. The roots of the oak reach the coffins under the ground and trap the souls of the unlucky laying there, their grand grandmother claimed. The dread for the tree was so huge that they never tried coming close to it, if they were on the cemetery. Not just them, but the whole village was petrified by the odd tree. And the graves… It was like people avoided being close to the oak even after death. The graves circled the tree, but they were placed at a safe distance from it. All graves, but one.

She had to stop again. The memories overwhelmed his mind so badly that his body clenched. She made a deep inhale and a long, liberating exhale. She was right under the ill-famed tree. Beside her sister’s grave.

She was fighting cancer for more than five years. She fought for her life as she desperately wanted to live it just a little more. Even when it was obvious that her end was near, she refused to surrender, to comply with death. In her own way.

She laid flowers on the grave and sat beside it right on the bare root which was sticking out of the ground.

Her last wish was to be buried here, under the oak from the stories in her childhood. She could not understand it at first.

The realization came when she started visiting her grave.

She nestled up against the tree. Hugging the oak, she concentrated on the sounds around her. Only the birds violated the serenity of the place. “Can you hear me?... Sister?”, she asked softly. The limbs of the tree trembled a little rustling with leaves. Comforting heat filled her body. She was here. Or at least her soul was here as a part of the oak. Her remains were probably embraced softly by the roots of it, and she imagined how these arms were delicately carrying her sister’s coffin. The oak was more of a friendly figure, than in the stories she heard as a child. And these must have been bad untrue rumors, mere unreasonable superstitions. This oak kindly performed a role of a vessel for her sister, so that they could communicate. It was a link between life and death.

She felt something tacky on his palms and face. It was gum. It was not the first time when she felt the gum sticking to her and was already used to it. There were never more than a few stains on her clothes after the visits. Still, she could not figure out: was the tree sweating this way or was its blood running out of its pores?

The time passed slowly. She never stayed for so long. The heat was calming and comforting. She wanted to stay just a little longer to chat with his sister just about five minutes more. Her sister reached eternal life. She wanted to share her secret with her if she postponed the moment of her leaving.

They talked on and on, until she had to go, which she was admitting with reluctance. Sister always asked her to stay with here. She always told her that she had to go to the outer world and could not have stayed for long. This time, however, she promised that she would stay till late evening. The gum was slowly deriving from the pores of the cortex of the oak.

The birds stopped singing as the day was sinking with the sun beyond the horizon. The quietness was not violated by no living thing in and around the cemetery for miles. The darkness was slowly swallowing the sky leaving nothing but a few stars to illuminate it. The air around the oak was warm.

She pulled away from the oak. However, she realized that her movements were restricted by the gum. It enveloped her, not letting go. Her heartbeat quickened. She tried to push herself back from the tree, but it was no use.

“What is happening?!”, she cried into the darkness. Sister did not answer. She seemed to have gone.

Frantically she tried to free herself from the embrace of the soul-eating tree.

It was hungry. For many decades it was gobbling only spirits of the dead unfortunates whose graves were within its reach and if there were none it would stretch its roots even further. Now it had opportunity to taste real living flesh among with a soul that was still not one of a dead man. The oak was not to miss the chance.

Suddenly she managed to tear off her hand. At the same time burning pain struck her arm and she screamed in despair. She saw bare flesh on her inner palm, the skin stayed with the tree. The skin on the outside of the palm hardened. It now resembled the structure of a tree bark.

She now was almost a part of the oak. She screamed and her voice pierced through the oncoming darkness of the night, violating the serenity of the cemetery. Nevertheless, no one answered her pleadings as the villagers were too afraid of the place and of the deadly oak and they knew for sure they had a reason. Superstitions don’t lie, especially so far away from modern civilized cities.

For the last of her strength, she pointed a single question to the nothingness of the night. “Why...”, she pleaded. Her whole face was absorbed in the sticky substance, her eyes glued not to be opened ever again. Her arms and legs were fixed tight to the trunk, one palm helplessly twitching with sharp pain. Resistance seemed impossible.

She stopped trying, submitting to her fate.

Her conscious was not a part of her anymore, but of the flesh-eating oak. It rustled as if answering for the plea of its meal, “We are one”.

You had stayed at your boyfriend's place last night because he had just gotten free of promotions for NCT DREAM's new comeback. Chenle had insisted you have a sleepover after every comeback to make up for lost time.

"Baby, baby, look at this! Sweetheart, come see!" your boyfriend called to you when you came into the kitchen the next morning for breakfast. "Y/n, hurry up, it might leave!" On the windowsill by the sink, there were some plants, the one Chenle was intently staring at was a little chili plant which had just blossomed. When you stood next to him, he pointed at one of the little white flowers, where a bee was currently collecting pollen.

"Awe, a little bumble bee! Look at its little bumble bee legs. Oh, he's doing such a good job, I'm so proud of my boy," you say, leaning in closer to look. Chenle leaned in, too, just as the bee moved on to the neighbouring flower, and opened the window a little further so the bee would find it easier to leave when it decided to. Taking ahold of your waste from behind, he began to waddle towards the kitchen table.

"What about me?" he asked, getting two bowls and a box of cereal from the shelf, while you got spoons and milk, "Personally, I think my job is harder than a bee's, and therefore deserves more recognition."

"I mean, yeah, probably, but, like. Bumble bee," you said, pouring cereal into the bowls, Chenle having started clinging to your back again. You felt his pout against your skin at the same time that he huffed right in your ear, "Ugh, dude, gross."

"Can't even get as much love out of you as you so willingly give to an insect, why do I even bother," he began mumbling to himself, putting the milk and cereal away. He sat down next to you, angrily munching on his frosted flakes, giving you a little glare,"If I grew some wings and two extra limbs, would you praise me like that then? Hmm?" He smiled at you, with your bedhead and crispy bits on your cheek.

"No, that would be weird. However," you wiped your face and got off your stool, moving behind him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders, "I am so incredibly proud of you. You make me and so many other people all around the world so happy with just your smile. You are doing such a good job, I can't even describe it, and I need you to know that I am one hundred times more proud of you, Zhong Chenle, than I ever will be of some bumble bee." Sitting back down, you smile at him and go back to your cereal, but Chenle was blushing so hard he didn't trust himself to actually aim for his mouth properly.

"Well, I knew that, but thanks for saying it out loud." As you kiss him on the cheek, you hear foot steps coming in, and Renjun appeared at the door.

"That was gross."