Mar 08
fiction 0 comments challenge: Woods
Jen L.'s picture

The Talking Woods

Have you heard of the place called The Talking Woods? It’s a very mystical place. People say the trees in those woods talk. Some are mean, some are nice; it all depends on what type of tree it is. The first person who ever went there and noticed it was a child. Here is his story.

    One day James was playing by the woods when he heard someone shout,

“Watch it or you’ll snap one of my branches off! And that doesn’t feel too pleasant.” James jumped back. He had no clue who said that and he couldn’t see anybody for miles. The voice was kind of hollow, like it was vibrating through a pipe. It sounded in the middle of squeaky and deep.

“I’m over here,” shouts the voice again. It came from behind James, so he turned around but only saw the woods. Then he noticed a face in one of the pine trees, or at least it looked like a face. It was staring at him and he was staring back.

“Oh, so now we’re having a staring contest?” the pines says. James jumps in surprise. So, it was the pine tree talking all along.

“Have you always been able to do that? Talk, I mean,” James asks the pine tree.

“Well of course I have,” the pine tree sounded like that was a normal thing.

“Don’t all trees?” the pine tree asked James.

“Well, you’re the first tree I heard talk and I know many trees,” James informed the talking pine tree.

“What’s your name?” the pine tree inquired.

“I’m James. May I ask what your name is?” James said.

“I’m Needle. Weird name, I know…,” but before Needles could finish another voice talks.

“Enough with that Needles, let the boy play in peace.” This voice was also hollow, but deeper and more powerful.

“Sorry for my friend over here. She can be quite the rude chatterbox.” The voice was coming from the tree beside Needles. This tree was an oak tree. “You want to know my name, don’t you?” the oak asks. James nodded. He was getting a little freaked out but he didn’t want to be rude and leave. Besides, he thought, they’re trees, how much harm could they do me?

“My name is Acorn, another silly name. I already heard yours. James sounds like a pretty common English name to me. Just like you look like a common English boy,” Acorn said, more to himself than to James.

“How do you guys know your names? Do you have parents that give them to you?” James asked, very curious to know the ways of the trees.

“No,” Needles responded first, “we just sprout and know our names already. It is always in the back of our minds, or trunks, or whatever we use to think.”

“How do humans know their names?” asked Acorn.

“Well,” James said, “we are born and our parents think of names that they like and start calling us by it. So we grow up hearing that name being said to us. Kind of like trees but not exactly.”

“Yes! The sun’s coming down! Now this stupid owl will fly off of my branch,” Needles exclaimed.

“It’s not a stupid owl, Needles. It just doesn’t know you don’t like it on you. It’s nature’s way. Gotta learn to live with it,” Acorn informs Needles.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been living with it for fifty years. It sucks,” Needles said grumpily.

“Oh calm down, Needles. Someday it won’t come back. You’ll see,” said a sweet voice. It was a maple tree next to Needles.

“Oh, and James, you should go now. It’s getting dark and your family will be worrying. Don’t worry, you can come tomorrow and we’ll talk more,” the maple told James.

“I can’t wait!” James exclaimed and he ran off to home.