Wind Blown Trees

As wind blows softly through the trees,
Secrets whispered are carried on the breeze.
Secrets that are shared once,
Floating by like falling leaves,
Then are whisked away by the air that separates us all,
Yet it is the air that brings us together on this All Hallows Eve.
The night,
As it rises from the edge of the world,
Brings forth creatures that are only known by those who may go to great height,
To believe what they may see,
As well as what is told,
By stories whispered in the breeze.
But to those unknown, be what it will,
As it shall unfold.

It is said that in the town of Granite Falls, Washington, many years ago there was a ghost that lived in hiding among unsuspecting humans. There is no record of this being true, or false for that matter, but many of the locals who had grandparents in those times have been told the story more than once, I am quite sure. Although they are too frightened to speak of the tale as freely as I, there is an unwritten law that prohibits citizens to roam the streets after dark on the night of October 31st.
In this small town, it used to be that there were many trees and the houses were spread very far apart. There was almost always a breeze present, for that was where the winds usually met, to pass by and see how the other corners of the world were fairing. The winds would blow through the trees, making the leaves rustle and the tall grass whip back and fourth. The trees blew from side to side, as a curtain blows in an open window.
Now I am very certain that would you be so bold as to ask the town’s occupants about what happened in the past to the poor soul who failed to abide by the rule, they would spread the word willingly. For you see, there once was a young girl who was very much in love. She had been planning on asking her boyfriend to marry her on the night of Halloween, for it was their anniversary.
It seems that her plan did not go as intended. There was a storm that night, and it was very windy. The trees shivered as the wind blew through them, as if they knew that something terrible was about to happen; deep down in their roots, they knew that something was wrong. It is quite a shame that no one bothers to listen to the trees anymore, for it seems that they had something very important to say.
But as it happens, that was not to be the case. Amy was a sweet young girl who was too naïve to know much about love. Johnny, the boy, soon to be a man, should have spent a little more time reading his text books on gravity and the weather instead of staring at a pretty girl. They were both young, both care-free, and both so unsuspecting that anything could ever go wrong. That is why it hit them so hard on that unforgiving night in late October.
Amy was planning a perfect surprise. Johnny was walking to Amy’s, through the forest of pines and alder, when a gust of wind blew through the trees, a little harder than it planned. You see, the north wind and the south wind were having a little spat about who was stronger; it was their continuous argument, for neither of them could stand to be beaten, their disagreement was like a tug-of-war between two equal partners, never ending or changing pace. But as that sudden burst of wind hit the already battered tree, it finally gave way, landing on our very own Johnny. The dark bark crushed him in scents of the forest and wild life. He could see the sky as it started to darken and the leaves as they slowly started to calm down, as the winds realized what they had done.
He could never figure out how long he was there, laying very still and whispering his prayers into the wind, so that they could be carried to Amy. Then, in the middle of one of his love-filled sentences, he breathed his final breath and was gone forever. Or, at least, that’s what Amy thought when she found him several hours later, but that was not entirely true. For you see, his breathing stopped, but his heart never did. It seems that it beat for Amy, forever and always. Even after the police came and took his body, his heart still beat strongly. And when he was put into a coffin, the lid sealed so that he could rest peacefully, his heart still beat.
And every night, on Halloween, it is said that after dark you may hear a certain whispering of sweet nothings in the wind and the bickering of the mighty winds. And sometimes, if you watch closely enough as well, you might see the faint outline of a boy who is almost a man, walking through the forest, to meet his beloved almost wife to be.