The Boy in the Yard

June 21, 2017
By Drenna Thompson BRONZE, Elmira, Oregon
Drenna Thompson BRONZE, Elmira, Oregon
1 article 1 photo 1 comment

Every day I see him
The boy in the yard
I'm not really sure why he is there
Maybe he is waiting for something...or someone
It started when the city council decided to burn down the forest; the one separating us from the mountains
As the trees blackened
the animals ran until they coughed blood
As the flames reached for the sky with unruly red hands
every living thing
in a fever of desperation, fear, and fire.
None of the birds sing anymore
Now the city executives can build that new parking garage
where the woods once resided.
That is when the boy appeared
Now every evening after dinner
I sit at my window
and spy him in my yard right beyond the fence.
I ask my parents if they can see him too
They answer with "see what, honey?"
"Oh nothing" is what comes out of my food stained mouth
when, really I need to say "That boy over there, past the fence. Can't you see him?"
He used to be almost scary looking
His hands were gnarled bark.
His skin was pale green
And his eyes were yellow slits like a snake's.
The clothes he wore were ragged and torn
But now
the boy is sad-looking and tired
Like he is about to give up.
I often wonder "Did he come from the woods?"
Does he miss his home?
I finally worked up the nerve to walk to the edge of our fence and say "hello"
But he had dissapeared
Just like the woods.

The author's comments:

I live in the woods and Im very grateful for nature. But I began to wonder what would transpire if the forest had a physical form that could fight back when people try to hurt it. Unfortunately, in my story it eventually gives up, because humans are just too powerful.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!