Betrayal

The box weighs heavy in my hand. I think how ridiculous that is.  Straying off the path to find the weeping willow. It looks at me as if begging me to come sleep in its branches or swim in the river next to it. I brush the offers away knowing the one thing I must do.Sweeping a few of the hanging vines away, I plop myself down at the base of the trunk. A war with myself rages in my head. Part of me says to just empty out the contents, the other part saying to never let go of the box. I want both and I yet don’t want either. I touch my bare neck. Finally, a part of me wins, pulling the clear tape gently off the cardboard box. I open the lid slowly.

One...Two...Three!

Quickly I tip the box over. My golden brown hair gets into my usually bright green eyes that are now tear stained. I can't tell if those tears are from the contents or the hair in my eyes.

I look down expecting to see only ash. Instead a Russian doll stares back at me from the dirt floor. Hand painted I could tell,  red and practically glowing. Its rosey cheeks and bright eyes stare at me with such joy that I want to scream. But I know the contents. Grabbing the doll I step back and throw the doll into the tree. With my bad aim it almost completely misses, but it hits it. It doesn’t dent a bit. The ugly doll stares back at me, its beady eyes turning a dark shade of red.  Almost like blood. I blink, and the doll seems normal. This time I grab the doll in my hand and tighten my fist around the doll, but it keeps smiling at me. I slam the doll against the dark wood. I scrape my hand against the rough bark. I don’t care. Anything it takes to destroy it. It finally breaks in my hand as I slam it one last time. I stare at my bloody hand, ash sticking to the blood. After a moment of tears I wash my hands off in the river. The cool water feels good on my hot skin. I look back at the ash and it seems to say good bye. Through tears, I smile at it. I trudge over and lay down near the ash. My eyes stare at the bits of sun creeping through the branches and vines. I whisper softer than ever before “I’m sorry.”

I fall asleep feeling like she was sitting next to me.

Stroking my hair.

One last time.

I almost reach out to touch her blonde hair. But I know that if I do she will leave.

Forever this time