A moment of silence
The autumn trees began to shed they're leafs. Mother nature was ready to shed every tree of its cover to put them to the test of endurance. Only those trees that remain standing throughout the winter could be rewarded with a bounty of fresh lively green leafs. Similar to the test of nature, man takes a test every single day until the point where they can no longer continue. These thoughts belonged to a man named Hopper, a young scholar who had only recently graduated college. His hand gently rubbed up against the rough bark of the tree that stand before him, the biggest tree of them all. This tree was isolated away from the others and was almost in the dead center. The meadow that surrounded it had plenty of trees, but none the shape or size of the giant oak that stood tall and proud over the rest. A prime example of the will to survive, the one that he no longer had. He passed by the tree, his hand gently letting loose from the rough oak which begged him not to leave by shedding a few leafs for him, but to the trees despair Hopper began to walk through the field.
Just months before he had graduated from college, Hopper was known to many as, "The Geek". Everyday was almost like his high school experience, filled with name calling and bullying. He was able to get away from most fights wearing only a small bruise on his cheek if it was his lucky day, but most days he walked away sporting an unsightly black eye. He would run from the college campus and into the nearby secluded meadows to gaze upon the tree. He marveled at its size, the texture, and its overall will to survive even the harshest of climate changes. He would spend hours just studying the tree, watching insects take for granted what he considered to be an honor of living inside a strong and sturdy tree. He felt inspired by it's presence and its ability to stand alone when so many others surrounded it, and would spend countless hours thinking about how it stood alone. The tree had became a symbol to him, that if he could brave the punches and names, he too could be a tall, strong, and independent being. The other trees would marvel upon him and what he had become, but he knew that it was a task that was too large for him. He would instead return to his apartment, which was as run down as the neighborhood he inhabited.
Hopper would walk through the busted and rusty gate that surrounded the apartment complex then proceed to the front door. The door itself was nothing special, a simple light green color that faded over the years to become a rusty, moldy, putrid vomit green. He shuddered at the noise it made as he would jiggle the knob then push to open it. It was a noise that can only be described as a pitchfork being dragged along the worlds longest chalk board. He would open the door quickly sometimes to get the noise over with, but it only grew louder every time he tried. After he advanced past the door, he would check his mail box for the annual junk mail that was interested in only his money rather than himself. He would casually glance at them with his expectations growing thinner that he would ever receive something important, such as a card from his family who lived countries away from him or a document for a court summons. He fantasized he would one day open his mail box to fan letters of some sort, perhaps for his published theory as to why happiness can be considered an illusion at times. When the dream ended and reality kicked back in at full swing, he would carry the letters up the stairs and down the hall two doors to the right.
Unlocking his door was a chore as well. Everything in his life seemed to want to prevent him from having it easy at times. He would twist and turn the key, insert then withdraw, push and pull, but there was no simple way of opening the door. It seemed to have a mind of its own at times, as it decided when it wanted to open up to its current inhabitant. Hopper instead took to the brute force tactic. He thrust his key into the lock, twisted as hard as he could, then rammed the door with his shoulder. The door swung open, causing him to stagger then fall to the floor, his letters scattered all over him and the navy blue carpet. As he began to pick himself up, the door slowly closed behind him. At least the door understood at times when hopper had enough. With no time to spare, he rushed around his clean and well kempt apartment. The most luxurious thing he owned was a bookshelf boasting a wide assortment of treasures. Classics from Moby d**k all the way up to recent best sellers like A child called it. He took pride and joy in his collection, but was upset that he never had the time to read them fully. He would get as far as halfway in before reality barges in and thrusts him back into his life. He rushed into his room and hastily changed into his work attire, a blue shirt with yellow trim on the shoulders and collar, and black dress pants with a cheap pair of black dress shoes. He then set off to his job which was nothing special. Simply flipping burgers, taking orders, and cleaning a fast food restaurant.
His eight hour shift came to a close, and he found himself more exhausted than ever. His manager knew it was his last day before his weekend break, and she wanted to make sure she got good use out of him. He ventured out into the now cool night air and made his way back to his apartment, dealing with the loud door, then his stubborn door, until he finally carried his body to his couch. His body made contact with the soft cushion and was immediately whisked away to dream land. The tree would be on his mind most of the time, but other times he dreamed of love and marriage. His beautiful wife would welcome him back from his successful job of marketing computers by giving him a small kiss and a hug before escorting him inside. She would then proceed to tell him about her day, and he would listen to every word she said before adding his own thoughts. The kids would then rush from they're room to welcome him home, along with a healthy husky which galloped from the living room to the front door to greet him. The evening would then be spent playing games with his family, talking to them, then bathing the children and putting them to bed. After the parenting was over, he would then give his undivided attention to his wife. Before he could fully unwind and relax, the sunlight from his balcony window would shine in and wake him up. He never could experience a moment of bliss, not even in his own dreams.
He picked up his aching body as his feet lead him to the shower. Some days he was so tired that he would shower with his clothes on without realizing it. The stress and burden on his shoulders would cause his mind to ceaselessly wander with no end in sight. His mind would be so busy it would forget to remind him that he was wearing his clothes. Before long he would notice it and fix his error before returning to his semi warm shower. He tossed his clothes into the dirty clothes hamper then dried himself off before putting on his usual outfit, which was whatever he could find closest to him. A blue T-shirt, a navy fleece shirt, even a graphic red T-shirt would be worn in conjunction to whatever pair of jeans would be closest. He donned his glasses to complete his ensemble before leaving his apartment to journey to the tree.
He stood and marveled at the giant oak tree that towered above him. He only smiled as his eyes filled with wonderment. He knew one day he too could become strong like the tree. He knew that one day his dreams would come true, and he could finally live the life he had dreamed of for so long. A life where everyone had loved him, cared for him, and even knew his name. One where he wouldn't be labeled, "Geek" or "Nerd". Any pre-existant labels could be cast aside and gone forever. As his gaze upon the tree, so did his aspirations and dreams to become something he knew he wasn't. Wanted.
