Lemon Tree

She had to overcome so much fear, so much anxiety to get here. She was tired, hadn’t slept for over a week and the world was becoming just a misty mess, the time was stopping, everything was slow and nothing, absolutely nothing made sense. Yet she came here, she had to. She was looking for a resolution, looking for some way to find her sleep again. Maybe if she saw the ruins and breathed in the ash, maybe if she smelled the burned wood and saw the remnants of her life – and her sanity, it seemed – she’d find peace that would take her to sleep. She was looking for that peace elsewhere, in someone else, but it never fully worked. Even the peace of their bond couldn’t mend something that broken. And at that moment, standing at the very edge of her garden, she felt as though she was willingly breaking herself even more.

Everything was gone… There used to be a house, tall and blue with awfully cliché white picket fence covered in red roses. A living room with kitchen so small it couldn’t even be considered a kitchen. A fireplace. The fucking fireplace was one of the things that survived the fire, standing in the middle of black ruins, proud as if it was the one to start that hell. And maybe it was, maybe it was just a simple fireplace mishap. If she wasn’t so tired and aching she’d be angry, she’d be furious with that piece of formerly white stone. Now it was black, everything was black and in shades of grey. Gods, how she loathed grey… Up there, there used to be her bedroom’s window. Her bedroom… She spent all those years alone there, in the past months perhaps wishing she wasn’t, perhaps wishing for a very concrete pair of arms around her… now she couldn’t even think of that. Her thoughts were so foggy she couldn’t even hope. Or dream. How could she dream if she wasn’t sleeping…

She took a few steps forward. The garden was singed, but not burned, as if it didn’t notice what happened. It was a late summer evening and the flowers were still blooming, their colours screaming with contrast against the black and grey ashes. She was so scared to open her mind to them, what would they say? She knew their world was different, they didn’t mourn, because to plants life was temporary and never-ending at the same time. She wanted to see it like that, but all she could focus on in that moment was ten years of her life gone. Closing her eyes, she let out a deep breath and listened as she started walking forward. Slowly. What she heard was peace, just a quiet whisper, some of it even gratituous. Her own garden, happy to see her. Suddenly, she wanted to lie down among the plants and stay there, because they soothed her, they heard the war in her mind and wanted to help. How, how could simple flowers be like that…

She spent some time walking back and forth with the watering pot, smiling faintly as her powers along with the water helped the plants get healthier again and chase away the summer’s heat. The ones closest to the house needed the most help, their leaves were covered in ashes and they could barely breathe. And then she saw a little burned twig right next to a living room wall that wasn’t there anymore.

Her heart stopped for a second and she ran to it, instantly ending up on her knees next to the possibly dead plant. Even she couldn’t do miracles, she couldn’t give life to something dead. Maybe on the verge of death, maybe she could breathe life into something clinging onto life and maybe, just maybe this half-burnt twig still was.

“No, no, no, no, no,“ she bereathed quickly. She completely forgot about it, the unknown seed that meant so much to her. It was its first summer outside after she planted it inside and helped it to grow a little. They both forgot about it, it seemed, and she doubted it would mean anything to him, it was just a tree after all. But as per usual, where others saw trees, she saw life and stories beyond imagination. And this one would be the same as others, only knowing about its homeland by instinct, but she hoped… hoped that what? That it would tell different stories? Sing different songs? Perhaps more heartbreaking or more passionate. After all, its homeland didn’t lack passion, that much she’d noticed.

“No, please, you have to wake up.” These words brought hope with them and her hands softly and carefully touched the dry twig in different places, helping it to revive itself. She smiled a little when she caught a glimpse of green.

“Fighter,” she muttered and finally left the plant, now alive and well, alone. “You didn’t give up. I can’t leave you here…” She looked around and after a while went rummaging through the shed at the back of the garden. She came back with a pot and carefully unearthed the sapling with its still weak roots so she could plant it there. Standing up, she felt a bit awkward. Is she really going to show up in the flat with a burnt little twig, claiming it’s important to her now? Out of all the things she could say… No, it’s enough that she hasn’t slept properly in a week, she must seem crazy already. He’d regret ever inviting her over if she did that. She needed a different plan.

Trying to avoid looking at the remnants of the house, she took off with a tiny plant in her hands as if she was to protect it with her life. It felt strange and the sadness soon took over even that feeling. She was sad. Simple as that. She wanted her house back, she wanted to enjoy summer again, she wanted to dream again, she wanted her friend back as her friend.

But she didn’t have any house. Her summer turned into torture. Sleeping was just another unrealistic idea among all the others. And her friend, her protégé turned into a man who made her heart skip a beat every time he smiled at her. At least she had her peace through him, at least he was close and the days could be a bit better when she didn’t return from work to an empty space. But what would it cost her? She could never act upon those feelings and that just added to her sadness, her frustration, the feeling of being completely, utterly lost in the world…

She anxiously pulled the potted plant closer to her chest. She was going to leave it in the infirmary and then… She needed wine. A lot of wine and a board game. She needed a bit of forced normalcy. And maybe her flatmate could join. Maybe…