If you'd received my letter telling you I'd soon be free,
Then you'll know what to do if you still want me...
The air filled with the old familiar song from my wristpiece, as I lumbered down a half forgotten street. Memories flooded my mind of a town long lost to the desperate drain of time. Ash and soot lay thick over the ground I walked. The old skeletons of burnt down buildings loomed over me like voiceless giants, their empty, broken windows like soulless eyes. The town was a shell of what once was, but my old mind easily filled in the gapes with the golden hue of happy memories.
If you still want me...
Ahead was the park. I hadn't seen the place in ages. Felt like lifetimes to be honest. I wondered if anything remained. I had avoided the place for so long, I almost hoped that it was leveled. Instead of a park, I'd find a crater, deep as the Earth's crust and black as my soul. However, deep down I knew that tree would still be there and sure enough as the ashen fog parted in front on me, there it was.
Tie a yellow ribbon 'round the old oak tree,
Its been three long years, do you still want me...
I tapped the volume on my wristpiece a couple times and the music dimmed to a whisper. My mouth was agape when I saw the tree. Like a lone sentinel it rose up alone the middle of the small park. No other vegetation grew around it. Ash fell steady like a gray winter's snow. The thick trunk of the oak tree shot up and split off into half a dozen branches, which in turn splintered into naked, petrified fingers. No leaves grew on it and probably hadn't for a long time. A large knot sat right in the middle of the trunk where an errant branch had been cut back long ago. I approached it with all the caution I could muster as if it might come alive at any moment and skewer me with its nasty tendrils.
It had been so long. I touched the bark with an ungloved palm. Music from my wristpiece echoed softly and memory flooded in like a golden dawn.
Bus driver, please look for me, Cause I couldn't bear to see what I might see...
The bus came to an abrupt stop and the doors opened with a hiss. Outside the birds were chirping happy tunes and the air was warm and sweet with the smells of summer. The whole town was out celebrating Fourth of July in the square. Children laughed and squealed as they played their games amid the various food stands. Friends ate together at long tables parked right in the street. Balloons floated up into the sky and colorful banners hung between the brick facades of businesses. All that like and I remember that I could only look at one thing.
The oak tree was a lush verdant. Hanging from its branches and tied around its trunk was a thick yellow ribbon. She was standing under the shade looking right back at me. With the biggest smile I'd ever seen on her face. Ear to ear, her grin was infections, I caught it as soon as I saw it. She wore a sunhat that was pushed back over long blonde hair. Her eyes were azure pools of life. A second later I dropped my bags and ran over to her, pushing through the white-painted gate into the small park enclosure.
Until that moment my life had been a prison and she alone held the key. I held out my arms to embrace her, but as she crashed into me her body turned to smoke. A single shoe had come unclasped from her foot, it flew before me before falling into the ash, and disappearing in a puff of mist. In the beat of a heart the town disintegrated before my eyes. I was alone again with the old oak tree. The yellow ribbons she'd hung around it so long ago were gone.
I'll stay on the bus, forget about us, put the blame on me...
Wearily I fell up against the tree. Sitting there I kept my eyes focused on my hands out of fear of the memories that might surface should I look around. Covered in soot they looked almost ghostly. My emaciated figure an echo of who I used to be.
But at least I'd made it back home. That was all that had mattered for a long time. And now that I was here there was only one thing left to do. I sat beneath the oak for a while, listening to the song as it played over and over again. It was all I had left of her, of everything.
In this town there used to be so much life, but now no one is left but me. After I'm gone no one will remember the name of this place or why it was here. Death is cruel like that, it kills you twice. First it takes your body, then your memory. I'm fortunate in that respect though. See, after I'm gone no one will be around to remember me. And since I'm the last one who remembers this place... well, then... finally this memory can be at peace.
A hundred yellow ribbons 'round the old oak tree...
When I finally looked up again she was standing above me. She smiled, ear to ear, and held out a hand. Without a second thought I reached out and grabbed it. I felt my body lift up as she pulled me to my feet. Then I went with her hand in hand and I never looked back.
I'm coming home...
I'm coming home...