Leaves.
They’re the things I miss most about the outdoors. Their subtle rustling as the wind shuffles them across the sidewalk was my favorite sound. The hard crunch they made underneath my feet as I jumped into a leaf pile was the greatest feeling. It was the greatest because I felt alive. I felt like nothing could touch me. But it was just a feeling.
Sitting in this room, away from the outdoors, my family, my friends, only deepens my disdain for God. Why does He make me live like this? Why did He take everything away? He took my leaves. He took away the one thing that made me feel safe.
I don’t even remember what it feels like to be outside. To breathe fresh air. To be alive.
Everyday is the same. I wake up in my bed with bright, white sheets inside my room with bright white walls. The door and all the windows are vacuum sealed. It’s a clean room.
My lack of an immune system is what has put me in this hell on earth. I am guarded from the outside, from my leaves, because He thought it was okay for me to be born without defenses. I am trapped in this chamber so I don’t get sick.
So I don’t die.
A knock on the window interrupts my thoughts. There’s a boy outside. Our eyes meet and he smiles. His hand motions for me to come to the window. Before I tell him I can’t open it, he pulls out a whiteboard and writes:
You don’t have to open it. Just come here.
I was a little uneasy, but I decided to go to the window. Why not?
Hi. I’m Danny.
He erased the whiteboard.
I live across the street.
Erase.
I always see you staring at the ground and
Erase.
I thought maybe you liked leaves so
Erase.
I got you something.
Danny puts the board down and pulls a small, velvet box from his pocket. When he opens it, I see a silver chain with a leaf charm on it.
I shook my head. He just stared.
I went to my desk and grabbed a piece of paper. I rummaged around until I found a marker. I wrote:
I love it, but I can’t take it. It’s not clean.
Grabbing the board again, Danny scribbles:
I know.
He sets the board down and grabs the box again. Danny pulls the necklace out and puts it around his neck. Danny laughed at what I’m assuming was my facial expression.
Going for the board again, he writes:
I thought you could use a
Erase.
Friend.
Erase again. He was beginning to look annoyed.
Now you get to see me and your
More frustrated erasing.
leaves everyday.
Danny throws the board at the ground. This time he yells.
“It’s a gift.”
He picked up his stuff and began to walk down my front yard. I stared at him. Why now? Why give me hope when I thought it was all gone?
It sure was some gift. I couldn’t help but feel like this was the best gift I had ever received.