Feet dangled from the tree branch, as he sat and stared. A million miles with a million thoughts were lit up from the sun that slowly drew the night closer and closer up the tree's trunk, reaching for his bare feet. Cold, but inviting. Quiet as a mouse, with nothing but the sound of the boy whispering his thoughts out loud. All it took was a snap of a branch for the boy to become startled. But soon back to a non-blinking stare into a million miles that sat upon another tree facing back some where a million miles away. The sound of constant chatter with himself, the boy felt at ease on this empty tree. A buddy named Max appeared beside him as they admired the view of challenges and triumph, rolling hills and windy trees, while never once talking nor looking at each other. Max, sitting beside him, stopped the boy's chattering amongst himself. A full conversation with no words, just the smell of cooking from the town people below that caused their eyes to close while their heads tilted back catching all the scent had to offer. The breeze from the trees ahead had finally met their arrival as friendly mother nature whistled through their toes like a subway train in New York. Max soon disappeared, and the boy was then alone. His head sunk and his stomach turned. The whole time Max was a branch. The shadows from the sunset can play tricks on your mind. Jared appeared to the right side of the boy and pointed out a giant deer that was sprinting across the field. The boy never once asked himself where Jared came from, or how Jared got up the tree so fast. Frankly the boy didn't care, he was just excited to point at a deer with him. Simple. They both laughed at the exact same time, in the exact same way, sitting on the exact same branch. A tree that makes you see things in a whole new perspective. The boy didn't want to climb that high, and sit on the branch that far out, something just told him to. Situations that led to an outcome that no one will ever know, led him to this branch looking over a million miles of thoughts and ideas. Jared swung his feet and told stories of the old times. A tear dropped from the boy's face splashing down upon the dark that was rising further up the tree and closer to his cold feet. The cold hard truth is hard to make warm at times, and this was one of those times. Jared's stories reminded the boy of just how long true happiness had been detached from his life. Jared didn't seem to see the boy's sadness as Jared soon vanished and the night sky started to close over the boy's head, making branches and leaves look like past friends and funny stories. Jared was never there, and the boy knew this all too well. The boy could only sit on the branch and remember when Jared once was there, as a journey of memories played over in his head.
A man named Shankle came across the boy's path pulling a wooden cart full of rocks and stones behind him. The horns from his viking helmet were bent sideways as if he had been in a few battles himself. His voice was deep and his body was covered in tattoos. "What are you doing up there young man!" Shankle asked as if he was giving a speech in front of a handful of town's people. The boy's feet stopped swinging, the boy looked back out into the million miles of land, and this time noticed a group of swordsmen practicing battle in the open hay field below. Roughly 1,000 feet away. The boy's head didn't move, but his eyes shifted down. Reality can be hard to face. The boy noticed his sword upon his waste was becoming rusty laying in its case, and the possibility of it sticking in battle could be costly. The boy spit on his light brown leather vest that had signs of wear and tear all over it, and wiped his sword clean. Reality can sting, but the breeze that passed through his toes snapped him out of his trance, and back into the question the man with the viking hat asked him. The boy confidently and proudly replied, "I don't know". The viking below leaned up against the tree with one arm, and began to eat an apple with the other. "What do you want to do?", replied the viking. The boy wanted to take another gaze into the millions of miles, but knew that the answer to this question could only be found in his mind and not through his eyes. Big Ben appeared beside the boy as the boy was in a battle of thought. Big Ben slapped the boy on the back and chuckled, "this viking's really got you thinking doesn't he?". The boy thanked Ben out loud, for Ben was his first coach, the start of it all. The viking asked the boy who he was talking to. "Big Ben" Shankle looked at his apple in a funny and confused way, and then violently took a heaping bite out of the shiny red apple, while rocking his head back and forth. Ben leaned over and laid a Sac State towel in the boy's hands. Then before he disappeared, turning into another tree branch, he said fast and upbeat, "Start from the beginning". The boy cracked a smile that even a scientist with a microscope couldn't find. The boy kicked his head back and grabbed one of the branches above his head with his left arm, while letting the right arm clinch onto the branch as if he was going to leap at any minute. The boy replied to the viking eating the apple, "I want to be a weightlifter". Shankle smiled while nodding his head. The boy smiled. The viking patted the tree a few times as if he was praising a horse, and then continued pulling his rocks and stones to where ever his destination may have been. The boy looked back out into the now dark fields of the million miles. There were no more swordsmen practicing battle in the distance. The deer was no where to be found, and this time there were no branches that came to life in the form of an old friend, just the boy and a small light from the ideas and plans coming from his head.
The boy shed a tear as the black faced man he once fought for walked away, his pigeoned toed feet swaying him side to side . The black faced man disappeared over the hill from afar. No more tree branches came to life. Just a real man and a real scar. Real sadness with a lot of respect. The boy took a deep breath.....black.