The Lynching Tree

The following story is an exert from my work in progress short story collection, Something In the Mist. Enjoy!

It was a well-known fact, that just north of the old covered bridge, there was an old oak tree that was once the scene of many-a-lynching in the town. Most of the townsfolk who knew of its history did well to stay away from it. After all, death in that large of a quantity in one spot can cook up some bad mojo over time; and bad mojo can do any number of unpredictable things; and people who went to the tree had a habit of not returning. I had heard those old bedtime stories more times than someone cares to admit, and I’d never believed a one of them before. So naturally, a friend and I went down to that old oak tree one day to have some fun. It’s a day I’ve never forgotten.

When we got to where the tree had laid its roots I was surprised at how large it was up close. It was quite an imposing tree, to be sure, but it did not scare me. My friend looked up at the tree as well before turning to be and saying with a slightly conceited tone, “Wanna see that can make it to the top first? That is…unless you believe those old fairy tales?”

Not one to be called a chicken, I agreed to the challenge. We both chose a branch to start from and climbed as fast as we could. I would have beaten him to the top had I not slipped and fell down a few branches. I could hear him taunting me from the highest branches, but I ignored them and said I’d be waiting at the bottom. I’d hurt my wrist in the fall and knew I wouldn’t be able to climb up there with him.

As my feet hit solid ground I looked back into the tree’s leafy top in search of my friend, but he must have been so high up that I couldn’t see him, I thought, and so I waited a while hoping that he would return down the tree soon. After a time I looked back up towards the branches when I felt a drop of something hit the top of my head. Another drop landed on my upturned face. Wiping it off, my hand came away bloody and I felt a pang of fear shoot through me.

My friend’s pale, lifeless face was there looking back at me. One of the tree’s branches had opened up and was slowly pulling his lifeless body into it, like a snake devouring a mouse. I looked no more at the gruesome scene before me and ran as fast as my legs could carry me and did not stop until I reached home. I never returned to that tree; whatever bad mojo that had created it was still there, and I prayed to the good Lord that I never would have to face it again.

When my friend’s parents came looking for him and started asking questions, the words that tumbled out of my mouth were thus, “He’s at the tree, and he’s there to stay…”

I hope everyone enjoyed that one. In my opnion it's not one of my stronger stories, but I find it's subect matter to be interesting. What do you guys think? I showed it to Claire and Shellie eariler today; Shellie seemed to enjoy it, Claire thought it was 'creepy as fuck'. But then she scares easily so I'm not surprised by that. Now then, it's off to bed as I feel like I've been hit with a truck from staying up too late last night. I really need to stop doing that.

-Alice