DECREPIT
I can barely remember the last time I was out here. I remember pouring all my efforts into this tree fort for three consecutive summers, hammering, sawing, and carefully framing each elevated floor. From the age of 11 to 13, that is how i spent my summers, but I do not remember the last time I was here.
I think I have blocked most of that night from my mind.
Seeing the decrepit shell of our old fort does bring back some memories. I remember the towering platforms that stretched up into the swaying tamaracs. I remember the nights spent camping out in the woods.
Unwillingly, I remember the night it all came crashing down to the ferocious screams of our unknown assailant. I remember the flashes of coarse black fur, the gleaming eyes, an the jagged yellow fangs.
The rest is still a merciful blur.
I lost more than my best friend during that savage attack; I lost my innocence and my ability to marvel at the beauty of nature.
To me, nature is nothing more than a destroyer.
It was nature that killed my friend, tearing him to pieces in the night while I fled towards the alarmed voices of my parents and the glowing security of shelter.
It was nature that pulled this fortress to the ground, that collapsed under the repressive weight of that night's memories.
It was nature that crippled my ability to feel at peace. Standing here today, surrounded by nature and the decrepit remains of my youth is one o the hardest things I have ever done.
Amongst the swampy aromas of this forest, I can still detect the pungent aroma of the beast. It is out there somewhere in those trees.
Perhaps it has been waiting for my return, to finish what it started all those years ago...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone. Please excuse auto corrected errors!
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