She was a quiet soul. No friends. No friends to talk to, except the trees. The trees were the ones she trusted to listen to her stories. They seemed to absorb each of her words like rain after months of only heat, infilling each branch, top to bottom. Every time the girl opened her mouth, the wind would sweep her faint voice up into the leaves and branches, just so they could absorb every word. The whole forest worked together like an orchestra so the trees could serenade themselves in her stories she shared just for them.
  Everything was pure until one day when the small girl skipped down her usual route back and as she continued on- the ground beneath her started a faint rattle. She looked to the trees and suddenly heard whispers. The whispers grew, spilling out of every hole and to the trees and suddenly heard whispers. The whispers grew, spilling out of every hole and crevice. The girls heart breaks as the whispers kept growing louder- increasing to a scream. The trees had no more room to take in anymore words, so the trees yelled them out, bursting the girls ears, her jaw drops open. The once beautiful working orchesta now turned to a chaotic unfitting screech. The girl grew pale and overwhelmed. She begged them to stop, but they could control themselves no longer.
  The small girl collapsed onto the ground shaking. Her breaths came out ragged, and eventually she lost all consciousness from the scene.

  People say that was the day the girl became one with the trees, overcome with their jealousy. One can still hear the whispering trees, talking through their leaves and branches, but no one dares to whispers back.