Under The Oak Tree | Teen Ink

Under The Oak Tree

August 11, 2014
By Eleanor4 PLATINUM, Christchurch, Other
Eleanor4 PLATINUM, Christchurch, Other
21 articles 0 photos 14 comments

Favorite Quote:
A poet can survive everything but a misprint.
- Oscar Wilde


I sighed inwardly as I walked through the school gates, the sound of the shrill bell greeted me. It was a cold day and I couldn’t help shivering and rubbing my arms trying to defy the chill. It was the first day of term, and as I looked around I saw that nothing much had changed. Little kids ran round and round in circles yelling out “tag” as they grabbed the person next to them. Teen girls huddled in clusters whispering about the latest party, or if there were any hot new boys. Finally I looked over at boys who were milling around,
laughing and making suggestive gestures at the girls. I sighed again wondering how boys like them could give all of us guys a bad reputation. As my brother Nathan would have said “they’ve probably got a few less chromosomes than us, bro” A second bell rang out, telling me to move faster and get to my class before Mr Marks got there. It was term three now and I’d learned that if I wanted to dawdle, I’d also better want two weeks of detention. With a final sigh I walked into the building.

I ran into the class, Nathan close at my heels. We slammed our bags onto the ground and got into our seats a split second before Mr Marks walked into the room. I felt Nathan relax with relief beside me, but instantly stiffen again as Mr Mark’s glared around the room. Mr Marks was the schools rugby coach but also an English teacher. Both skills combined created a muscled, angry man who could knock you out, but could also cut you into pieces with his tongue. He was most commonly known as “the monster.” Nathan looked at me and smiled, telling me we’d look after each other. For some reason this made me feel a pull of love towards my twin, who had the same brown eyes, same shaggy brown hair and tall muscular build as I had. I knew instantly that we would always protect each other.

“Lucas, Lucas!” my head shot up from my arms as I jumped at the sound of Mr Mark’s voice. I looked up to see that he was halfway through a speech about the importance of imagery in poems. I glanced quickly at my watch and realised class had started ten minutes ago. I was about to mutter an excuse, but before I could reply Mr Marks snapped, “detention.” I felt twenty-five pairs of eyes on me belonging to my classmates. I ignored them and pretended to become very busy organising my English papers, my cheeks flaming. I looked up a few minutes later to see that Tom, Nathan’s friend was still staring at me, and the empty seat beside me. His black fringe fell in front of his eyes, giving his smooth face a dark look. I ignored him too, but I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my head as I turned away.

I swung up and down, up and down, up and down, the world spinning out of focus as I tipped backwards. I’d always love going to the park after school, I was fifteen now and still went almost every day with Nathan. I looked beside me at my brother who was going up and down, up and down beside me. He saw me staring and shot me a cheeky grin before jumping off the swing. He then grabbed my torn jeans and pulled me off my own swing onto the wet grass. As my head hit the ground I felt the sweet smell of wet grass envelop me as it cushioned my fall. I gave Nathan a glare as he pulled me to my feet, but the smile tugging at the corner of mouth gave my true feelings away.

It was evening now and the cold darkness clung to the outside of my house, and tried in vain to slip through the windows and into the kitchen where Mum and I sat eating dinner. I hated fish and pushed it around my plate looking for an invisible hiding spot to shove the cod. Mum stared at me. Her grey eyes looked tired, and her face was lined and dirty. Her wispy grey brown hair was clumped in an untidy mess around her head. I glanced down and continued to eat, trying to think of anything except Mum’s lined face.

Later that night when Mum was in bed sleeping and the house was quiet I was still lying awake listening to the silence. When a few minutes later I still couldn’t sleep I got out of bed and shoved my feet into shoes and shrugged on a warm jacket. Then I grabbed a flashlight. I crept downstairs trying to stop the floorboards creaking so as not to wake Mum. When I got downstairs I switched on the torch illuminating the carved front door in front of me. I twisted the key I kept on a chain around my neck into the lock, and quietly opened the door. I took the wooden porch steps two at a time, and then made my way to the big oak tree at the far side of the garden. When I neared the tree I turned to look at my house. In the darkness my little bungalow seemed to leer like a monster, the windows serving as its eyes. I tore my eyes away and walked the remaining distance to the oak tree. Directly underneath the tree a small cross lay in the ground. “Hi bro” I whispered as I kneeled next to the cross reading the inscription. Nathan John Woods dearly beloved son and brother. “I thought of you today mate” I murmured in the darkness, which was only broken in strange places by my flashlight. I thought of all the places I’d been today and thought of Nathan. My English class and the park. I always thought of him most when I was in those places, I don’t know why. I looked at the grave and wondered how it had been a year today since Nathan had died. It felt like a lifetime. I thought of Mum’s haggard face and knew it had been a lifetime for her as well. I smiled at the grave allowing grief to mingle with my thoughts. Tears slid down my face. “I love you” I whispered brokenly before I turned and walked back to my house. I was lost in thought about my brother. I knew the pain of losing Nathan would never leave, but it would get easier.

But I knew I would never ever forget him.



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