The trees around me beckoned and wrapped in a tunnel of orange branches. the light has grown dark arond this road, the moon soon dipping through the clouds, as the stars will wink at me soon. I sigh, bringing my wrinkly hand to my heart. I feel it soaring at the beauty around me. I love it, i stay so grounded to my heart and safety whenever i am in company of the nature. its beauty never fails to remind my stay here at earth. my 83 long years, and nature is where i will escape into the esscense of. i have nothing else, all i see are endless rows of trees. my mind bends back to when i was 13 and reading sylvia plaths fig tree, and the long lost memory found in this moment breaks my heart a bit. I never thought my life would end up amounting to nothing. I guess i turned into the fragment writing, sitting in the crook of it, always letting my mind wander, never daring to jump.

I blink, and its gone.

What am i doing here again? Nevertheless, the nature dares me on by the storm i spot in the omnious clouds. To take shelter. Take action. I snicker as I put my hand out infornt of me. to hitchike. my pulse quickens as i see a car coming my way far away. its lights illumante the twilighted road, catching me here like a deer in headlights. I feel as an actress on a stage, the spotlight illumaniting me, spectators of the show watching. Maybe in my next life. Maybe they´ll be real then. not an audience in my mind, nagging my performance in life.

The gravel crunches under the weight of the car approaching me. the alien silver volvo nearing me, a woman in business suit seated at the steering wheel. a worried look on her polished, makeupy face. to my surpise, she actually stops and gestures to the door with one pedicured hand. I hesitate, but my feet and back scream for release. sitting down is my only worry. i reach for the door handle, my body growing weaker each second. i have to muster up all strength to place myself in the backseat.

suddenly, it feels as if im watching myself out of my body. my head bends and cracks, a sharp pain stabbing my head from the inside.

The woman glances at me in the mirror, and asks if im okay in a frustrated tone.

I just wave at her. stop it, stop it, i think i say out loud, although i am not certain what is real anymore.

my eyes follow the road as we make our way thorugh the row of trees and out to main streets. unfamiliar houses and street signs pass me by, acres of land and work buildings flashes in my vision. I make notice of it all, but once i spot a forest coming up, with sycamore trees laid out for me, i think i muster up something like, «stop the car.» She doesnt seem to hear me so i yell louder, but all i earn is a glance from her. A church comes up, with beautiful sycamore trees guarding a graveyard. something in me snaps. my heart quickens.

«stop!» i yell this time. tears welling up in my eyes by the strength i dont have left. i want to reach for the handle but my body doesnt let me. I have to let it take me.

All i can do is shake my head as much as i can, hoping, begging to be left off soon. Oh, god, where is she going to take me? oh, oh. i clutch at myt white, wrinkly hands, despair and desparation rising up in my heart as a pain starts to grow.

«please dont take me away, stop the car.» I whisper, my weakness evident. The woman who seemed so stubborn now has a soft look in her eyes, one that displays a tragic pain. hurt. irrevorcable sadness.

I dont know how long i sit here, trapped. until i feel the car slowing down, coming to a halt. i see a building with rows and rows of lights, flower curtains shielding what really is in there. i see hearts hanged up in the windows, halloween decorations plattered in fornt of an entrance with sliding doors.

Suddenly, the woman has opened up my door and starts to lfit me out. i wnat to scream, shout, what is going on? but i am too weak. too gone. too lost.

«no.» is all i can muster up. my lips feel cracked and my eyes are heavy. i want to go back to the trees, feel the nature anchor me again. i feel so gone in myself, i dont know where i am or who i am. i am swimming in an empty mind. lost in a maze of darkness.

a sob escapes me. fear shoots through me, at this woman, this place. but mostly me. mostly the abscense of me.

«youre okay, anne. we need to get you back to your room now.» the woman says, as a matter of fact.

«oh, no.» I open my lips to protest but glue has slipped into me and parched me, i am certain. But no, they place me on a bed, and lift me into a big elevator that hurts me. they lead me through a corridor that prisons me with sterile lights and petroloum floors. They place me into a bed with sheets that smell like practical living, jobs and duties to get over. A beeping sound is the only thing i hear, as this woman sticks me with needles that only fill me with the life of a burden.

«count the things you see.» she says, as if i were obligated to. but i do as she says. a paper orchid in the window. yellow curtains and door. machines and lastly, a picture. The most beautiful man ive ever seen. I explode, my heart strikes through me. I desolate. Paul.

«paul.» i whisper, as images of the graveyard and nature, sycamore trees come back to me.

And I am back.

«i want to lay with him as i descend into the essence of trees and mother nature.» i whisper, knowing these words were all i could get out. probably my last.

Finally, the woman smiles.

«he is here. you are here. because i am here, mom,» she grabs my hand i clutch it.

I never did get to live out each barnch as sylvia plath wanted. but i planted and sowed life into my girl.

now me and paul can come together at the love.

that is all that is asked of me. Love.