The Girl Who Dreamt Of Trees
BY GREGORY HEDGEPETH
Cover image by Эльвина Якубова from Pixabay. Cover art by Gregory Hedgepeth.
The screaming had finally stopped. I was covered in blood, sitting quietly inside the principal’s office wondering what would happen next. I kept seeing people walk by, peering in at me and I could tell no one wanted me there anymore. One kid walked by imitating gun shots with his fingers. I just swallowed hard and tried not to cry.
Soon after, the principal came in, looking disheveled and distraught. He sat behind his desk slowly and cleared his throat before speaking. “Aubrey, I need you to know that you’re not in trouble, okay? I just... I know you didn’t mean to...” He stopped suddenly and ran his hands over his face in frustration. “Okay listen, the kids in your class told me what happened. But I want to hear your side before any decisions are made.”
I was doing everything I could to keep myself from bursting into tears. Everything had happened so quickly—I could only imagine what the other kids had told him. I shifted uneasily in the chair before sitting up straight and doing my best to remain calm. “I... I was just trying to... finish my math sheet. I had to go to the bathroom halfway through the lesson, and I had kinda fallen behind... I was just trying to catch up. And then...” I sniffled, feeling the tears grow hot yet again.
“It’s okay,” he said calmly. “Take a deep breath. It’s just you and me in here. There’s no rush, okay? Take as much time as you need.”
I did as I was told and relaxed enough to finish telling him what happened. “Almost everyone else was done and I still had two rows of problems left. Then Donnie... he... he came up behind me and knocked the pencil out my hand and he and his friends started laughing.”
His brow furrowed. “Why do you think he did that?”
“I don’t know. He and his friends mess with everyday. They push me and dump things out of my book bag. Sometimes, they come up to me at lunch and stick their fingers in my food. Last month, he stabbed me in the hand with a pen.”
“Have you told your teacher about any of this?”
The hot tears finally began to flow down my cheeks as I recalled all the memories of Donnie and his torture over the past year. “Y-y-yes, but... she just doesn’t seem to care. She just says that boys will be boys. That he only acts that way because he has a crush on me and doesn’t know how to express it.”
He let out a frustrated sigh. “What did you do after he knocked the pencil out of your hand?”
“I tried to ignore them. I went to the other side of my desk to pick up my pencil. But once I bent down, Donnie came over and pushed me on the ground.”
“Where was the teacher?”
“She had just stepped out to escort Elijah to the nurse. He threw up during the lesson and she was worried something was wrong with his stomach.”
He let out another sigh. “Then what happened?”
I put my face in my hands and shook my head. “I don’t want to say.”
“Aubrey, in order for me to help you... I need you to tell me what happened.”
My tears became heavy and uncontrollable, and before I realized it, I was sobbing louder than I ever had before. I knew what would happen if I told him the truth, but I knew it would be even worse if I lied. “I didn’t mean to...”
“What did you do to Donnie?”
I did my best to hold my raging tears at bay yet again, wiping at my eyes and clearing my throat. “When I was on the ground, he and his friends started laughing and throwing their pencils at me. When I tried to stand up, he... he pushed me back down. And then they took the jar of rubber cement that the teacher keeps on her desk, and they... they poured it all over my hair. I tried to get it out, but I just made it worse—so I sat there and cried. My heart started to beat so fast, I thought I was going to pass out. I just felt so angry and helpless. No one even bothered to help me or tell them to stop. I just... I was just tired of them always picking on me. And then...” His eyebrow raised, anticipating what was coming next. “I stopped crying and stood up. Then, everything went black. It was like I could barely see. I felt so out of control. By the time I realized what was going on, Donnie was laying on the ground with his face all bashed in and he had scratches all over his arms and his neck. I looked down at my hands and they were bloody. Everyone was staring at me. When the teacher came back in, they just pointed at me and started telling her what happened. I didn’t... I didn’t mean for it to happen. I just wanted them to leave me alone.” I continued to sob as he rose from his desk without a word and walked slowly to the door.
He turned the knob and pulled the door open, revealing a tall, gray-haired man in a navy suit. The man walked in and gave me a warm smile, placing his hand against my knee and taking a seat in the chair next to me as the principal returned to his seat behind the desk. “Hello, Aubrey. I understand you had an altercation in your class earlier. Is it okay if we talk about it?” I nodded amid the tears. “Your principal has to follow certain protocols when things like this happen at your school. Are you aware of that?” I nodded again. “Good. You don’t have to be scared. I know your classmates may be frightened, but you needn’t worry. We’ve called your mother and she’s on her way, so we can get you the proper treatment.”
I shook my head. “I just want to go back to class.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible. Not anymore.”
“But why not? It wasn’t my fault! They wouldn’t leave me alone! I didn’t mean to!”
He and the principal could tell I was becoming emotional, but he was doing his best to remain calm. “Aubrey, you’re a unique child—do you understand that? You’re not like the others. You’re... well, to be frank, you’re better than them. Stronger. Smarter. You have gifts they can’t even fathom.”
“No, I’m not,” I said, shaking my head. “You don’t even know me.”
“You’re right... but I know others like you. I bet I can guess some things about you.”
“Like what?”
“Like the fact that this work is way too easy for you, but you’re scared the others will judge you if you let them know how smart you are. Even though everyone already treats you like an outcast and you’ve never known why. I bet even your teachers act as if there’s something wrong with you.”
My eyes widened. “How could you—?”
“The only person who seems to understand is your mother, right? She loves you regardless of what the others think. She loves you even more than the other parents could ever love your classmates. Because she sees in you what I see in you. Your gift.”
I looked at the principal. “You told him—“
The principal lifted his hands in protest when the man said something that knocked the wind out of me. “Tell me about your nightmares, Aubrey.”
My eyes returned to the man in the suit. “What?”
“You have them every night, don’t you? Nightmares about random acts of violence. Beasts who transform in the night. Fires. People bleeding, people dying. War.“ He said it all so matter-of-factly, as if he were making statements and no longer asking questions. “And you get unbearably painful headaches every time you feel sad or angry.” I couldn’t believe my ears. How could he know that? “But it wasn’t always that way, was it? You didn’t always have nightmares, did you?”
“No,” I squeaked out.
“You used to have beautiful, sweet dreams, right?”
“Yes.”
“What was your favorite dream? Do you remember?”
I sighed. I could never forget. “I used to dream about my grandfather’s house all the time. He lived in a big white house right outside of Effervesce. I used to sit on the front porch and watch the peach trees sway back and forth. I used to love visiting him. It was so far from here. And he always smiled when he saw me. In my favorite dream, me and Mama lived there with him. I was sitting on the porch, watching the trees, when he came and sat down beside me. He gave me a huge smile and said the house would belong to me one day, but the trees were already mine because I loved them so much.”
The man smiled as tears filled my eyes. “But then he died and you got scared you would never see that house or those trees again. And now there’s all this turmoil building inside you that you don’t understand.”
I nodded again. “How... how could you know all this?”
“It’s because you have a condition called Rare Arrhythmia Anxiety with Acute Genetic Endemica. And unfortunately, it causes your body to react in extreme ways to emotional triggers. It makes your heart rate spike to dangerous levels. The visual cues that live inside your brain become unstable. It causes your body an immense amount of pain... and that pain forces you to become overcome with anger and fury. Which is why Donnie got hurt. I’m not saying he didn’t deserve it, but... it’s just not safe for you to be around your classmates right now. We need to get you somewhere where you won’t endanger others.”
“But I won’t hurt anyone else!” I screamed. “I promise! I’ll never do anything to anyone ever again, no matter what they do to me!”
The man sighed and stood from his seat. “But you will, Aubrey. It always gets worse before it gets better. Especially in a high-pressure situation like spending seven hours a day inside a classroom where everyone treats you like you like you don’t belong there. But the best part about it is: you don’t. And they’ll never understand what it’s like. That’s what always happens.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “I know, because it’s what happened to me. It’s what happened to all of us. And it’s what will happen to you... unless you come with me. And I teach you how to control it.”
This was too much. I just couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t listen to anything else he had to say. “I want to go home,” I said simply, shaking my head and standing to my feet.
“Now, Aubrey, let’s remain calm. Your mother is already on the way. With your gift, comes a great responsibility. Not only to yourself, but to—“
“I said no!” I screamed. The principal’s eyes grew wide as I ran for the door and the white-haired man attempted to grab my wrist. I wrestled away from him and made my way out of the office and out of the school.
I had to get away. I thought about my mother and how disappointed she would be in me for fighting and running away from school. Then, I thought about my grandfather and how no one had ever smiled at me the way he had. The man in the suit was right. I missed him terribly. Everything had gone wrong since the day he passed away. I looked to my left and my right, having no idea which direction I was headed in or where I was even going. I just ran and ran until my legs grew heavy, and suddenly, everything went black again.
Gregory Hedgepeth is the editor-in-chief of Vital Narrative Press. You can follow him on Facebook, Instagram or Twitter. Feel free to follow on all three. Or maybe just two. Yeah, two’s probably good—he’s not that interesting. Gregory Hedgepeth is also the author of MISCONCEPTIONS ABOUT SUNRISES, THE YEAR THAT ANSWERED and A COLLECTION OF ECHOES. BUY THAT SHIT.