Fiction

The Sugar Maple bird home

By Adelynne Cimonetti
  

To a newcomer, the city was a bursting beam of opportunity, a spike of life in a climate so bare, a colorfully enticing knit cloth in a dark room. 

 Far away tucked under ground lies an ancient world with a gold’n tree.Its roots spread from corner to corner of this ancient land, maintaining life. 

For me it is hard enough to even show or have emotion, let alone fall in love. Then I met him, his name was Jared. He was ridiculously sweet, even when I didn’t laugh at his jokes. He didn’t seem to care that I didn’t show emotion.

            There is a tree, it is a golden birch tree. This tree is in the middle of nowhere. Most people who live in the town next to the tree will go to this specific tree.

It was white all around. I go through a hallway that seems like it doesn’t end. It is full of brown doors each with a different colored knob. I know that the deeper I go, the darker the hallway would seem to be.

          She ran up the stairs, her breath coming in quick, short puffs. She could hear yelling behind her, and people clambering up the stairs after her.

It's been weeks since Madeline passed on and I still have yet to enter the room where we could always just be.

Okay. Let’s start from the beginning. My name is Axelle Julienne Redheart. I’m 17 years old and I’m about to die. Here’s how it started. 


 

Just a normal Friday, I’ve spent my entire day here, at my house, because of covid-19, I can only go to school two days a week. I hate it, every part of it, I wish it could just be normal.

I am fourteen years old
And my life has changed
For better or for worse.
Though, in all honesty,
Aren’t all changes good changes?
I want to think so,
But I can’t anymore.
 
I don’t have a family.

        I paced around my tiny bedroom for the thousandth time, feeling bored beyond reckoning. Why did my idiotic classmates have to have come down with Covid?