The Murder of Willow

A gentle breeze fluttered the curtain I hid behind, as I strained to hear above the pounding of the heart that was trying to break out of my chest, and above the roaring behind the eardrums that were channeling to me, the conversation taking place between my husband and Mr. Burly, who were standing out on the upper deck of the backyard. “WE HAVE TO TAKE HER DOWN,” Mr. Burly commanded. “Is there no other way,” my husband asked? “No” Mr. Burly replied. “You and I both know she has gone too far getting tangled up in all that underground activity. It will only bring you BIG TROUBLE if you don’t stop her RIGHT NOW." Many times over the years, I had fought for her life and won, but I knew there would be no changing their mind this time. So, I locked myself in the bathroom while they murdered her. There on the lid of the porcelain throne with my head hanging over the sink, I sat watching a stream of tears slide down the drain as the sound of the chainsaw outside, shattered my mind. No one will ever know how much I loved her, no one but me and the drain. ~~~ It was days before I had the mental and physical strength to bring myself to the place where they had thrown her torso and severed limbs in the ravine among the discarded clumps of kitty litter, waterlogged cardboard boxes, weeds and wild flowers that grew there in abundance. ~~~ I remembered the first time I had ever seen her; a tiny sapling born from a seed that had flown on the wind and landed in the lower level of the backyard and taken root. Not knowing who or what she would be, I left her there thinking she would never survive the winter, but she did. “Too close to the house and the septic system,” the arborous said. “She’s a Willow, and her roots will cause you nothing but trouble, mark my words.” But now she had leaves, and they were so beautiful. For twelve years, I fought to save her life as she grew and grew until she reached the upper deck, her beautiful branches and tri-colored leaves reaching over the railing, touching me as her long supple limbs swayed and moved to the will of the wind as she danced to the tune of the wind chimes as humming birds came and went. Sentenced to death for growing to close; my beautiful Willow was brought down in the prime of her life. I stood on the bank over that ravine for a long time in deep reflection, only to finally turn around to see behind me, what now was the barren place where she once stood. ‘NOTHING REMAINS THE SAME FOREVER'. I heard the words my father once said to me, but those words brought me no comfort. The only solace I could find in that moment as I stood above the quickly decaying remnants of that once beautiful creature was: knowing that my willow would never weep again. Written: August 26, 2014 Author: Elaine George