'I Sit and Cry' by Rhonda J. Jezek

I sit and cry because that's all you can do sometimes. When sorrow wells up in you until it just spills out and you can't stop it and your face gets all red and sticky and you just hurt everywhere and you want to hide from everyone. Okay, maybe you don't but I sure do. So I'm crying.

            I have two wands in two hands. One is clear and plain, the other is black and plain. I've always been bothered by fairy tales of intricate, beautiful wands. Don't need that. Just something to store power, thank you very much. So they're plain.

            I'm clutching them very tightly; my knuckles are white. White as sheets that are so new they glow. I'm surrounded by the lushest, most beautiful forest in the world. Everywhere you go it is brimming with life. Trunks are covered by masses of vines, you can't take two steps without tripping over a rabbit, the sunlight can't get through the trees and it's so thick and wonderful and so green and I just love it here, it's so beautiful. So beautiful.

            I kind of feel the way that Dr. Frankenstein would have if he'd actually liked his creature but the end was tragic anyway. I created this forest. From the first seed to the last, this forest is mine. Every flower that blossomed, every leaf that uncurled, every rabbit or bird or every anything that was born here was because of me, and I am in love. With the maple leaves and the squirrels and the apples and everything. So in love.

            But I have to kill it.

            You know how every philosopher worth their salt talks about life and death and balances? Well, it's true. If it wasn't for me, this forest would die. The vines should be choking the plants they surround, the wolves should be eating the rabbits, no sunlight hits the ground so all the foilage should be long gone. I'm sitting in a living graveyard. I can't let it go.

            I'm so afraid.

            I am a nature spirit. One of the Greek nymphs, one of the fey, one of the angels. See me in whatever light you like, just understand that I have a great deal of power over these plants and animals. I have the choice of life and death. And I've chosen life for a very long time.

            There's a town about 20 miles from my forest. Well, it was 20 miles away 5 years ago. Now it's 10. I don't know how far away it was when I started. They've built up all sorts of ridiculous stories about the great mystical forest demon that makes this forest live. They're afraid because this forest moves so rapidly. So afraid. They tried to burn it down once. In my rage, I took all their children that year. They've never been back.

            I'm telling you this because I need someone to understand. I need someone to understand that I didn't intend for this to happen. All it was was a deep-rooted love that wouldn't let go. My nurturing has overrun me until I've murdered my child. This forest should be dead. Pretty soon, it will be.

            The Planet knows when something's not right with her. But she let me go, she let me try and figure it out for myself. But I wouldn't. I refused. And now I'm being punished.

            When Abraham put Isaac on the altar of sacrifice, his heart was broken in as many places as mine.

            She told me I had to end it. It was unnatural and if there's anything she's all for, it's nature. Life is a wonderful thing, and my forest is beautiful. But death is needed. Death has to come.

            With the clear wand I've coaxed the tallest oak to the smallest blade of grass.

            With the black wand I'll destroy both.

            Please, it's so hard.

            I hold a dandelion in my hand. It's yellow and beautiful. I kiss it. It soaks up my tears. I touch it with the black wand. It withers and dies.

            I touch a small weed. It shrinks, curls up in itself.

            A tree. It crumbles.

            A deer. It falls.

            Time is frozen for death. All things stop for death.

            Green to brown to black. A branch becomes a twisted, gnarled claw. A bear becomes a mass of cold flesh. One by one I touch all my creatures. One by one I see them bend and snap and pass away.

What was once all my love is now black and rotten and gone. A majestic forest that teemed with life has been swallowed by the ground. I wonder what the townspeople will think when they see it. What chants they'll chant, what spells they'll cast, what gods they'll intone. I don't care. Every mole was my lover. Every tree was my heart. Everything about that forest was my life. The joy of creation can not be understood unless you've partaken of it. You just can't understand. No one will ever understand.

            Everything about that forest was my life.

            Staring at the black wand, I touch it to my chest...