Hi! U guys like sob stories, right? This is a just precious little nugget of sadness that I dreamed up last night at 4 am. Its not finished yet but I may as well see if the idea is any good before I continue.
Now she knew why they called it a flashback. It came in flashes. The pain, too. It was quick and nasty, like a bullet to the back. Memories didn’t come “flooding in”, like they said in the books. They came in little bursts of helplessness.
Sophie knew better than anyone. With each tree she stepped past, there was another flickering of little glimpses. Every other heartbeat was a knife’s tear in her chest, another tear fleeing her eye.
The worst part was, there was no one to lean against, no one to catch her when she forgot how to stand. Sophie could barely make herself look at the name intricately scraped into the slate beneath the first tree.
A tiny, powerful tree. The honey leaves folded into each other, almost like braids. The trunk was rigid and sturdy, with a defiance that was so un-tree-like, Sophie almost wondered if it was actually Marella. But no. She was dead.
They were all dead.