Allen sat inside the room, his foot tapping on the wooden floor, trying to drown out the wailing sound of groans and weeping despair. It was in his head; the incident had already ended, and yet he could still hear, and he still hadn't figured out what it all meant, what was happening in this town, to his son.
They didn't know who to call. After someone was sucked into the ground, everyone spread out and continued without speaking. Some stragglers went home for the day, their faces pale as if something had sucked their souls out, while others kept crisp smiles and brimming teeth, their eyes scattered, looking at other things. The doctors who came in and updated Allen on Gryce's opinion weren't much help either; most of what they said went in and through Allen's ear; they didn't know what was wrong with him, so why even bother? They stammered for an explanation that they'd never find. How could he ever come up with how his wounds were almost completely healed; it hadn't even been five hours, but the damn vines inside his body had connected everything.
"What happened to you, kid?" Allen brushed the hair from his forehead. "Were you always like this?"
How afraid the boy must have been, a strange monster crashing through the window and in the next moment gone, pure blackne—
***
Recovery was slow, even with my help, and the things those men and women wrapped around me made it even harder. I needed the sun; without it, I could never see what was on the other side or what that thing was. That was bothering me more than anything. Thinking about it somehow made me feel more connected to my origins. Even without any contact with nature, the smell of rot oozed from every orifice of this place. From Gryce's memory, I believe this was called a hospital.
I'm not sure how much time passed, but I was able to open my eyes; the light beaming down on my face was almost as bright as the sun. Gryce's parents were asleep in the corner of the room; his mother slept like a wilted flower.
I attempted to get out of this bed, but I was hooked up to this beeping contraption that oozed liquid inside this body. Ripping it out caused pain, but it was short; it was small enough to heal quickly. Unfortunately, this seemed to have alerted those doctors, and ahead through the glass on the door I saw a strange man come toward the room.
"It seems you are awake, good." He turned toward Gryce's parents. "Your parents seem to be asleep, let's not disturb them."
His skin was rough like bark, with cracks and holes lathered across his body, exposing the deep red flesh hiding beneath its outer layer.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking, even though their outward appearance didn't shake me; Gryce's mind was in a panic. There was nothing I could do to quell it. But even so, even I could acknowledge that what was in front of me could no longer be considered a human. He made no attempt at hiding that fact.
"Your recovery was a rather strange progress, do you know that? He looked down at his clipboard, rigid and slow, leaves and chaffed bark raining down from his body.
He leaned forward, the sharp branches dangling from his eyelids drooping down as he attempted to wink. Instead, his eyelid was on a thorn, taking with it a piece of dry skin. "You're a special one, aren't you?" The man said, his hot breath blasting against my face; it smelled of rot.
I didn't answer; it was as if talking to it would affirm its place here, that it was undoubtedly real. If I were to return Gryce's body with this thing here, it would surely scar him for life.
"Mmmmmm." Without me realizing, he'd opened the window. Most of his clothes were beginning to shred. Whatever transformation he was going through was progressing quickly. Transformation? The word repeated in my head over and over; it didn't seem right after all.
His red splotches of skin darkened as time passed, spilling out black ooze from his inner crevices until his body became what it was always meant to be: a tree. In its last step, it jumped from the ledge and landed face-first into the ground.
I hurried to the window and watched his head lodged in the dirt, legs erect, facing the sky.
I watched as one by one, each window in the hospital flew open, and out came another, and another, and another, until there came a point when I stopped paying attention to how many jumped and rather how many had sprouted. By the time it'd ended, there was a vast forest as the wind carried their cries. A part of them was alive to forever remain still, with no way to end their suffering, as their roots were already instilled into the earth.