The Earth is different here. Quiet. There are no animals, no wind, no people. It’s not like it was when I was little. It is a forest robbed of life. Dead trees, dead grass, dead flowers. Nothing is alive except for me. Everything is dried up and brown, crackling under my feet as I make my way through this decayed forest.
No one knows why these dead forests exist, or how they came into being. Anyone who goes into one for too long never makes it back out. I don’t want to find them, or find out why. I just want to bring back the forest. Besides, I have nothing back in the city, no one who would miss me. I love this place so much, I’d be okay with dying here.
I’ve been in this forest for over a week and I’m not sure where I’m going, since I haven't been back here in so long. There’s nothing I can do except keep walking. As I walk, I remember things I haven’t thought about in so long, things I haven’t wanted to remember.
This place is too important to let die.
As I walk farther and farther, the forest gets less dead. Here and there are some patches of green, flowers hanging on the edge of life, a tree with a few leaves on it. The logical assumption would be that these plants never died, but when have I ever been logical? And the green spots seem like they’ve been revived.
I keep on a path that leads to even more green, and eventually it looks more like a forest with a few dead trees than a totally dead forest.
I reach a clearing that is fully alive. It fills me with purpose; maybe the forest is not dead. This clearing is definitely in the forest — this place is huge, and it’s alive. That’s not the strangest thing. Beautifully ornate glass coffins stand in rows, with beautiful scenes of a forest — this one, maybe — engraved onto the sides of them. There are people in the coffins, holding carefully arranged bouquets of flowers over their chests. They aren’t dead, their eyes closed and their chests rising and falling steadily. The grass around the coffins is greener, and little flowers grow around the edges.
I look up when I hear a sound that doesn’t belong in an empty forest.
One of the coffins has opened.
This one is empty, and as I walk toward it, I begin to understand. Everyone who went into this forest to see if they could revive it is in these coffins. I climb into the coffin and feel my eyes close.
I will be fine. The forest will live.
No one knows why these dead forests exist, or how they came into being. Anyone who goes into one for too long never makes it back out. I don’t want to find them, or find out why. I just want to bring back the forest. Besides, I have nothing back in the city, no one who would miss me. I love this place so much, I’d be okay with dying here.
I’ve been in this forest for over a week and I’m not sure where I’m going, since I haven't been back here in so long. There’s nothing I can do except keep walking. As I walk, I remember things I haven’t thought about in so long, things I haven’t wanted to remember.
This place is too important to let die.
As I walk farther and farther, the forest gets less dead. Here and there are some patches of green, flowers hanging on the edge of life, a tree with a few leaves on it. The logical assumption would be that these plants never died, but when have I ever been logical? And the green spots seem like they’ve been revived.
I keep on a path that leads to even more green, and eventually it looks more like a forest with a few dead trees than a totally dead forest.
I reach a clearing that is fully alive. It fills me with purpose; maybe the forest is not dead. This clearing is definitely in the forest — this place is huge, and it’s alive. That’s not the strangest thing. Beautifully ornate glass coffins stand in rows, with beautiful scenes of a forest — this one, maybe — engraved onto the sides of them. There are people in the coffins, holding carefully arranged bouquets of flowers over their chests. They aren’t dead, their eyes closed and their chests rising and falling steadily. The grass around the coffins is greener, and little flowers grow around the edges.
I look up when I hear a sound that doesn’t belong in an empty forest.
One of the coffins has opened.
This one is empty, and as I walk toward it, I begin to understand. Everyone who went into this forest to see if they could revive it is in these coffins. I climb into the coffin and feel my eyes close.
I will be fine. The forest will live.