Not a Waste of Time

The dead leaves crunched under my feet as I walked slowly through the maze of trees. With my hands in my pockets, I let my mind wander. If only I could stay here in the forest, I think. Walking under the canopy of leaves always helped calm my nerves. I climbed a tree and didn't stop until the branches looked like they wouldn't hold my weight. I sat down on a branch and looked out into the sky. If only I could fly with the birds, I thought. Or run around like the squirrels.

"James!" I heard a distant voice calling from behind me yell. "It's time for dinner!"

Reluctantly, I climb down from the tree, jumping down from the last few branches, and drag my feet back to my house. I walked in the front door and helped my mother serve the food.

"You need to stop spending so much time in the forest," she said as I set the table. "You're wasting your time."

"But it's fun to me," I mumble, scared to voice my opinion.

"It's not going to help you any bit," she retorted. My father came down from upstairs and dinner was another quiet one. I ate and listened to the stillness of the silence.

When dinner ended, I went straight to my room and sat on the wooden chest by my window. I let my mind go and just thought of the things that I saw. My guitar in the corner. The blanket on my bed. The mirror on the wall. They were all things so insignificant get they were all that filled my mind at that moment. I ended up relaxing so much that I fell asleep on top of the chest.

That night I dreamed of flying with the birds and climbing trees with the squirrels. It's not a waste of time, I thought to myself. Not a waste of time.