After moving in with his grandfather, Abraham slowly began to adapt to life on the outskirts of the city.
His days became more structured, though the silence still followed him everywhere. He had been enrolled in a new school Watson Middle School and with only a few days left before the new academic year began, Abraham spent his time preparing his school supplies in quiet routine.
That morning was bright, just like most mornings.
Abraham helped his grandfather tend the garden behind their house. The garden was filled with various plants and trees, all carefully nurtured by Alfred. Yet among them stood one tree that always drew Abraham's attention a tree far older and larger than the rest.
Abraham loved that tree.
He didn't know why, but standing near it always made him feel calm. There was a warmth he couldn't explain, as if the tree itself was special. Its leaves were unremarkable, nothing that stood out, but its roots were thick and sprawling, twisting across the ground in strange, ancient patterns.
Abraham didn't know what kind of tree it was.
Its leaves were unfamiliar, and it never bore fruit. He had once asked his grandfather about it, but Alfred didn't know either. The tree had been there long before Alfred bought the land long before the house itself was built.
Alfred chose to keep it.
To him, the tree felt like a natural part of the land, something that shouldn't be removed. It seemed to live longer than the other plants, and the vegetation around it appeared to depend on it like children leaning on a parent. That was why Alfred continued to care for it with quiet respect.
That day, Abraham cleaned the yard and prepared several mango saplings that had been ordered by a customer.
From behind him, his grandfather's voice called out.
"Abram," Alfred said, using the nickname he always used."Are the saplings ready? The buyer has arrived to pick them up."
"Yes, Grandpa. Just a moment," Abraham replied briefly.
He hurried to tie and bundle the saplings. As he searched for rope, a sudden breeze swept through the garden. Leaves scattered across the ground, and the trees swayed together in unison.
Abraham paused.
For a moment, it felt as though the garden itself was breathing.
Alive.
Before he could dwell on the feeling, Alfred called again.
"Abram, bring the saplings here, please."
Abraham snapped out of it and carried the order to the front of the house, handing it to his grandfather.
"Thank you, Abram," Alfred said with a warm smile. "Take a break. Grandpa bought some chocolate cake."
Abraham nodded. "Alright, Grandpa."
He went into the kitchen and ate quietly. Not long after, Alfred approached him again.
"Abram, Grandpa needs to deliver some plants to the city," Alfred said."I'll also buy fertilizer and a few other supplies. I may be gone for two days. Can you look after the house?"
Abraham nodded once more. "I can."
He rarely spoke more than necessary. Alfred understood that.
After saying goodbye, Alfred left in his car. The house fell silent once again.
Abraham returned to the backyard and continued tidying the garden. The day passed slowly, until night finally arrived. After dinner, he cleaned the kitchen and prepared to sleep. His body felt heavy from a full day of work.
Before going to bed, he took a shower.
Once refreshed, Abraham lay down on his bed. Sleep came quickly.
Then—
The bed began to shake violently.
At first, he ignored it, still half-asleep. But the shaking grew stronger. Abraham jolted awake.
The entire house was trembling.
An earthquake.
Without thinking, Abraham rushed toward the exit. The backyard an open space was the safest place. He ran toward the kitchen door.
But as he passed through the kitchen, the shaking intensified. He lost his balance and was thrown against the wall. His head struck a wooden ornament hanging nearby.
"Ah—!"
Pain exploded through his head. Dizzy, he pressed his hand to his forehead.
His fingers came away wet.
Blood.
Using the last of his strength, Abraham forced himself outside. His vision blurred as he staggered into the backyard. The earthquake hadn't stopped.
Without realizing it, his steps carried him toward the old tree.
He ran closer.
Then he saw it a large crack in the ground beside the tree, hidden between its massive roots. Whether from dizziness or shifting earth, Abraham didn't know.
He didn't think.
He slipped into the gap and crouched inside.
The world spun.
Darkness swallowed him.
His head felt unbearably heavy.
Lights flickered like fireflies in his vision as fragments of last night returned to him. Abraham slowly opened his eyes.
Bright light greeted him.
Morning.
He tried to crawl out of the place where he had hidden and froze.
This was not his backyard.
Before him stretched a vast forest, endless and unfamiliar.
He pinched his cheek. It hurt. He touched his forehead the dried blood was still there.
This wasn't a dream.
Abraham stood in confusion, trying to understand what had happened. The forest felt strange, yet beautiful. The air was incredibly fresh, carrying a scent he had never known. The trees were tall and strong, different from anything he had seen yet oddly familiar.
After walking for some time, panic began to creep in.
He didn't know where he was.
As he turned back toward the tree he had emerged from, a loud voice rang out behind him.
"Hey! Who are you?!"
Abraham startled and spun around.
An old man stood there, his beard thick and long. He held a staff and wore strange robes. Abraham froze.
The man spoke again.
"Who are you, and why are you in this forest?"
"I—I don't know," Abraham answered nervously.
"You don't know?" the man repeated.
Abraham looked closer.
The man's face felt strangely familiar very similar to his grandfather's. But the long beard, the robes, and the staff made him look completely different.
The old man stepped closer, then stopped abruptly when he noticed the wound on Abraham's forehead.
"Child, you're hurt. Does it hurt badly?"
He moved closer, but Abraham instinctively stepped back.
The man immediately stopped and softened his expression.
"Easy now. I won't harm you," he said gently."My name is Haldor. I know medicine."
Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, Abraham allowed him to approach. Haldor examined the wound carefully.
"It's not severe, but it needs treatment," Haldor said."Come with me to my home. You look exhausted and lost."
Abraham hesitated, but the man's kindness so reminiscent of his grandfather made him nod.
They walked until they reached a modest house nestled between towering trees.
"Come in," Haldor said.
Abraham stepped inside.
The house felt unlike anything he had ever seen.
Its structure was strange yet harmonious. Nearly all the furniture and decorations were made of finely crafted wood smooth, beautiful, and somehow alive.
Abraham stood still, overwhelmed, quietly staring around the room in wonder.