Log inMenuPromptsContestsStoriesBlogContest #179 winner ?ResoluteSubmitted into Contest #179 in response to: Write a story

Menu Prompts Contests Stories Blog Contest #172 winner ? Apples and Trees Submitted into Contest #172 in response to: Write about a character reminiscing over something they should have said, and how their life would be completely different had they said it.... view prompt Lisa Lange FOLLOW 178 likes 132 comments COMING OF AGE FICTION SAD This story contains themes or mentions of suicide or self harm. Mom works. She never picks me up from school, and two miles is too close for a bus pickup, which is fine by me because I like cutting through the woods. Especially on autumn days, when the air is cool, and the flies and mosquitos are gone, and basketball practice hasn’t begun. I like the quiet. I like the wordlessness of the walk. A pretty sugar maple dressed in vivid orange frills beckons me off the path. I stand to look at her. I sound like a weirdo, I know. A sixteen-year-old boy calling a sugar maple pretty. It was Dad that taught me to appreciate trees before he hung himself from one. I love ‘em even more, now, Dad and trees. Did you know the oldest maple is five hundred years old? They call it the Comfort Tree. Dad said all trees are comfort trees. I search the sugar maple for a perfect orange leaf - I think I’ll press the leaf between two sheets of waxed paper like I did when I was a kid – but I can’t find a perfect orange leaf. It doesn’t matter. We don’t even have waxed paper at home. We don’t save things at home. I follow a line of golden, round-leaved aspens to the creek, a grove of clone trees grown from the root system of the male. “Aspis means shield in Greek,” Dad said. “Aspens are protectors and inspire courage.” Brave aspens. Magic aspens. I wonder, Dad, did it take courage to kill yourself? Did you care about leaving me? “Depression is a villain,” the therapist said. “That villain convinced your father the world was better off without him.” I could have slayed the villain. If I had only told Dad how much I needed him. I sigh. I try to take a deeper breath. I inhale the dank smell of cold dirt and dropped leaves. I smell Dad, the amalgam of decomposition and old blood. I didn’t know what the smell was when I was a kid. I didn’t know what a medical examiner did. The smell was a thick smell and sweet. I knew, only, that the smell was my dad. I’ve got a friend, Jimmy, who likes the smell of skunks. My backpack is light, no books, not much homework. With it being the end of the semester and the week before Thanksgiving, teachers don’t add to their piles of ungraded papers. I drop my bag at a willow. I strip a branch of its leaves. I sit on a rock. I pretend to fish. “Knock. Knock,” I say. “Who’s there?” “Fish on a hook out of water.” “Dad? Is that you?” I reach to unhook him, but he slips through my fingers. How did I let my dad slip through my fingers? “It wasn’t your fault. There was nothing you could do.” The therapist said it. Mom said it, but I know Mom doesn’t feel that way. I keep photographs of Dad in a tackle box. His eyes look sad even as his face smiles. In a birthday photo, we wear matching red hats on our heads, the paper cone kind with the elastic bands that dig under our chins. His body leans into me. His arms hug me enthusiastically. He looks at me. I look at the cake. My mouth is open in the ready position to blow out six candles. I am happy. We were happy. But I see his sadness captured by the photograph. Maybe because his smile looks a little like the same fake smile, I make in all my school pictures. Maybe because his lips are dry and look a little too stretched over his teeth. Or because the corners of his mouth don’t go up into his cheeks in an easy way. I am seven years too late for more knock, knock, jokes. I am seven years too late to make him laugh, seven years too late to make him happier, seven years too late to give him reasons to stay. I should have made him not want to leave us. I want to tell Mom that I walk through the woods, but she worries. “Apples and trees,” I heard her say. “I will spend my life trying to keep him alive.” She means me. She means keep me alive. I want to tell her that her burden makes me angry, that it crushes me, that it flattens me. I want to tell her not to worry about me, but I’m scared. I’m scared as if her thought is a premonition. I pick up my backpack and I follow the creek that leads to the oak tree in the yard, to the black scar on its trunk from where a thick limb once reached upward. I sit on a branch that spreads over the ground. All the oak’s branches have turned toward the ground. “Dad?” I smell decomposition and old blood. I smell the vanilla in the old oak’s tree bark, the smell Dad taught me to notice. I feel the strength in the old oak’s trunk. In the kitchen I see the bowl full of apples, a white oak bowl full of red apples. It hits me why the bowl is there. Seven years of apples in a white oak bowl sitting on the kitchen countertop and I only, now, see why my mom puts them there. “Apples and trees. I will spend my life trying to keep him alive.” The white oak is Dad. The apples are me. I pull each apple from the bowl. I line them up on the countertop. Seven apples. Seven years. I inspect each apple for bruises and blemishes. Not a single bruise on any of the apples. It’s a sign, my sign. I am an apple from only the best parts of the tree. I feel taller. I am sure. I’ve slayed the villain that was hiding inside me. “Mom,” I say, when she walks into the kitchen. “You don’t have to worry about me.” Twitter Facebook Pinterest Report November 18, 2022 23:40 Lisa Lange 4 submissions Follow Discuss this story... You must sign up or log in to submit a comment. 178 likes 132 comments 6 points Rebecca Miles 16:23 Nov 25, 2022 The imagery in this coupled with the honest simplicity is very moving; the symbolism of the unblemished seven apples a beautiful metaphor for childhood. They say fruit never falls far from the tree; I'm so glad your narrator rolled away from that fatal oak. This story is sad, but I found it ultimately uplifting too. A well deserved win. Reply 1 points Lisa Lange 20:43 Nov 25, 2022 Thank you Rebecca! I’m happy to hear the imagery and voice worked together to move you as a reader. Reply 3 points Daniel Allen 14:26 Nov 25, 2022 So much emotion in this one! Great work. Reply 1 points Lisa Lange 20:43 Nov 25, 2022 Thank you Daniel! Much appreciated. Reply 3 points Tommy Goround 14:20 Nov 25, 2022 Yep. I came back looking at the recommended stories. There's 13 I found so far. I just had to read the first sentence or two and the rest of your story was completely memorable. Big claps Reply 1 points Lisa Lange 20:44 Nov 25, 2022 Thank you Tommy! Reply 2 points Tommy Goround 00:04 Nov 26, 2022 No worries. When you autograph my book (that you wrote) could you leave a blank spot where my name should go. I'm going to bet on the resale value. Reply 2 points Denna Weber 18:46 Nov 29, 2022 I see my sis and I fishing as kids, fishing off the bridge close to our grandparents' cabin. You see your father and you at the comfort tree, perfect branches with perfect orange leaves. Both left this earth, hung by their own dragons, As if autumn blew them off, each a leaf, crushed up as compost under a once strong tree. Why didn't we say what we needed to make them stay? Were their smiles ever happy, really happy, unfaked? Now that I'm half-grown, bruised, delicate-delicious, I know fishing with my sis is a message, a bridge between ... Reply 1 points Denna Weber 19:04 Nov 29, 2022 Many of us relate to how a suicide affected us. We feel guilt. We grow, we learn, we come to know each has a unique story-- happiness, depression. Yet some truths are universal. Reply 1 points Lisa Lange 05:32 Dec 07, 2022 So true. Thanks so much for sharing Deanna. Reply 2 points Maliha Naveed 06:18 Nov 27, 2022 I loved how in just a few words, you let the narrator go through a round of sad emotions and how he came out all strong. Amazing work, indeed. Reply 1 points Lisa Lange 05:33 Dec 07, 2022 Thank you Maliha. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Reply 2 points Lisa Lange 20:36 Nov 25, 2022 Oh my gosh! Wasn’t expecting this win, I am thrilled the story touched many of you. Thank you for your feedback and support! Reply 2 points Matthew Zang 19:16 Nov 23, 2022 A bitter sweet story of death, strength and endurance. The tree and apple analogies are thoughtful and touching. Beautiful symbolism, loved it!! Reply 1 points Lisa Lange 20:45 Nov 25, 2022 Thank you Matthew. I’m so happy you enjoyed the story. Reply 2 points Tommy Goround 09:38 Nov 23, 2022 A very nice story. I read it twice. I think it will be memorable. Reply 1 points Gary Scone 18:01 Feb 15, 2023 I am stunned. Speechless. Her dad leaving his family behind. His daughter coping in a matter I have never encountered. She corrorlates the continuation of her life as the apples. Her dad being the tree fostering her in representation of the apples bared. Her and her daughterhood and fatherhood will remain in her heart having found peace without the negative influence of the villain. Acceptance fills her heart with peace and harmony. I believe the story is so well written. The story is purely genuine. Her heart's expressions ... Reply 1 points Emerson Schug 02:43 Feb 12, 2023 it was a good story but sad i like sad stories all in all it was good. And sad. Reply 1 points Mearlya Jhaneza Hernandez 14:37 Feb 05, 2023 this story is kind of sad i cried a little bit but im good Reply 1 points Nandini Panchal 11:16 Feb 05, 2023 Such a simple and heartbreaking story! I love how you describe the feelings of the narrator. Congratulations!!!?? Reply 1 points Jayanta Das 22:44 Jan 30, 2023 May I take this story? please reply first. Reply 1 points Charlee Hillin 15:15 Jan 26, 2023 This story is amazing. My friend recommended it to me and I don't regret it. This is so good, I showed it to my English teacher and she loved it! Reply 1 points Lisa Lange 16:32 Jan 28, 2023 Thanks Charlee! I'm glad you (and your English teacher) liked it! Reply 1 points Charlee Hillin 15:34 Feb 02, 2023 Thank you, Lisa!!! Ive recommended it to 7 of my friends, and they all love it! You are an amazing writer Reply 1 points Khisab Kurniawan 01:56 Jan 12, 2023 I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to experience the stories you have created. I also make youtube video telling about your story https://youtu.be/R9t4sWvDSmQ Hope you like it! Reply 1 points Lisa Lange 16:34 Jan 28, 2023 Khisab, I do not like the youtube video and I would like you to take it down. Thank you! Reply 1 points Andrea Marian 23:47 Jan 11, 2023 Get 5,500$ every day, for six months! See how it works. What’sApp :+39 3512405862 I want to testify about Dark Web blank atm cards which can withdraw money from any atm machines around the world. I was very poor before and have no job. I saw so much testimony about how Dark Web hackers send them the atm blank card and use it to collect money in any atm machine and become rich. Email : dr.austinsolutionhome1@g*******m What’sApp : +39 351240 5862 They also sent me the blank atm card. I have used it to get 90,000$. withdraw the maximum of 5500$... Reply 1 points Andrea Marian 23:47 Jan 11, 2023 Get 5,500$ every day, for six months! See how it works. 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Reply 1 points Aleah Jardonek 17:13 Jan 07, 2023 I surprisingly didn't find it sad (maybe because while i was reading it my sister was watching something with weird music) The thing that really gets to me is dogs dying and sometimes family passing away it depends on how the story goes. It has to be a video of a dog dying or something to make me really cry Reply Load more comments Find the perfect editor for your next book Over 1 million authors trust the professionals on Reedsy, come meet them. Join today icon arrow icon google icon facebook reedsy logo Twitter f*******: LinkedIn Trustpilot Terms Privacy Reedsy Ltd. © 2023