A/N: this is just an updated version of the story. fixed grammar/spelling, added/deleted sentences and such. just FYI haha :) - victoria

Crestfallen

A Short Story

By

"Vicky"

They're screaming at me as I stumble past, but no matter how much pressure my palms force against my ears, I can't block them out. Those high pitched, scratchy voices probe into my skull and rattle my core to the point of insanity.

"Stop it!" I screech at the mocking trees. I hate them, these trees spawned by something that could only be worse than the king of hell himself. But they're only provoked by the outburst they've contracted out of me, and I silently curse myself for being so easily manipulated.

"You're a worthless girl," one of the trees hisses at me. I cringe as its hideous grey branches reach out and caress my pale cheeks, run their ways through my thick, dark hair and scratch along my tense shoulders and skinny arms. I rip myself away from it only to turn and fall into the limbs of another spiteful monster.

"What a horrible thing you are," this new tree rasps. "You're existence is pointless. You only bring misery in the wake of your presence."

"No!" I yell. I tear away from its thorny clutches, shredding my bare skin as I do so. Small drops bud at the wounds, but I ignore the sting and sprint through the colorless abyss of this waking nightmare. This endless grey forest seems to be devoid of life except for these ruthless plants and my own pitiful self. My heart pounds in my throat as I run, try to get away, but they're everywhere. Their screams are everywhere.

A branch flies out from the dingy blur racing past me and slams against my shins, knocking me to the ground and taking a gracious amount of my skin with it. My legs are left raw and bleeding while the delighted shrills of thousands of voices smothers the air.

"How pathetic," one of the devils says. It prods me with its wooden arm, and I feebly smack it away.

"I'm not pathetic," I say, but my voice falters. The trees are sent into another fit of hysterics and my ears are ringing with their evil, consuming laughter.

"You are insignificant!" one of them yells.

"Hideous," another joins in.

"You're unneeded! Miserable! Nothing but a leech! Vermin! You are a hopeless existence." Thousands of those horrid voices circle around me, and I dig my nails into the dirt and shake my head against their cries.

"Stop!" I shriek, but the venomous remarks are relentless. They dig into my mind, penetrate the vulnerable barrier and wind their way through my thoughts. They bore into my heart, ingrain themselves into my soul, and rip away my will.

"Let me be!" I shout as tears swim in my eyes and spill onto my cheeks. "I'm not pointless. I mean something."

"You mean nothing," one of the monsters snaps. "But don't worry, girl. We can end your pain. Let us kill you—let us drink you." The rest join in, and the hateful, piercing voices scream and shriek as my body shakes with my crestfallen sobs. My hair falls in tendrils around me and sticks to the tears soaking my face, but I make no move to wipe it away. I can't find a purpose to try anymore.

"I'm—I'm sorry," I whisper, unable to keep my voice steady. "I'm sorry, you're right. End it, please. Make it stop."

They grey trees explode with ecstasy at my acceptance and their curdling shrieks shoot into the air, engulfing the ashen sky. Their cries grow louder, and my body feels as if it's shattering as the foreign limbs prick and force my blood out in heavy streams.

I open my eyes against the searing pain and see the ground beneath my hands flooded with crimson liquid. I gasp, but no sound is made in the overwhelming screams of the trees' ecstasy. I look up through the breaks in the black branches to see scarlet seeping into the cloud encompassed sky, as if my own blood was staining it, pouring my life into it.

"You have given yourself to us, child!" the voice screams. Its pitch nearly blows out my ears, but I'm too weak to respond. Besides, I've already given them what I have.

I look down from the sky polluted with my own blood and stare forward, startled by the sight of a small animal. Perched atop the branch of one of the devils is a mockingbird. It cocks its head at me for a short moment, its eyes watching me intently, and then spreads its wings and soars away.

Huh. So there was another life here, after all. This offers me the slightest comfort, even as I watch the blood drain from my body. The world starts to spin in my sight as my ears reverberate with the trees' hisses and screams.

"You give your life," the tree closest to me snarls, "for us. Your blood will sink into our roots and keep us alive. That is why you were born, child. You were born to die."

I glance around at the shrieking trees with heavy eyes. "At least that means I was born for something," I whisper. My fingers slip against the pool my coming death has formed and I fall into the red water.

The screeching stops. The trees are silent, and no voices are preaching my worthlessness. The sound of silences seems hollow and strange in this nightmare I'm living.

I'm living. The realization nearly knocks the wind out of me. My eyes refuse to open, but I'm breathing, even if it is slow coming. I can feel a breeze lapping at my face.

"Why am I alive?" I say aloud, though my lips barely move as I speak. A pair of hands wraps around my limp body and lifts me from the bloody puddle. They're warm and welcoming, almost alien after the bristling jabs of the trees. I pry my eyes open and see his kind blue eyes, the tufts of his shaggy blonde hair blowing along in the light wind, and I feel almost sane.

"Because I want you to be," he says. For the first time, I smile.

As he carries my broken body away from the black ashes of the forest, the mockingbird sings.