Chapter Seven: The Memory Tree
318 Words
Chapter Seven: The Memory Tree
That night, Obba dreamed of the silver tree again. But it wasn’t just a dream. She could feel the ground beneath her, the rough texture of the bark, and the gentle rustle of leaves. The hum in the air vibrated through her entire being. She stood before the tree, and it began to glow with a soft, ethereal light. From its roots came a voice—a memory. A whisper of her ancestors. “Obba, daughter of the river. You are not a mistake. Your song is your gift.” The words resonated deep within her, filling her with a sense of purpose and belonging.
She woke up gasping, her heart racing with excitement and wonder. Grandma Rose was at her side, a knowing look in her eyes. “You heard them, didn’t you?” Obba stared, still trying to process the dream. “You knew?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Grandma Rose nodded, a soft smile on her face. “I’ve heard the tree too,” she said softly. “When I was little. Our family’s power is water, yes. But not all water is moved by force. Some water listens only to song.”
Obba’s mind reeled as she tried to understand the implications. She had always known her family had a special connection to water, but this was different. This was about music, about harmony, about resonance. She felt a sense of awe and wonder at the secrets her family had kept hidden for so long. Grandma Rose’s eyes sparkled with a deep understanding, and Obba knew that she had only scratched the surface of her family’s secrets. There was so much more to learn, so much more to discover. And she was ready to embark on this journey, to uncover the mysteries of her family’s past and to find her own place in the world.
- Writer
