Chapter 4:

I just sat and rested for a long time, or at least what felt like a long time to me. Looking up at the dark sky for hours and trying to see some stars. Of course since this was in the middle of a city there wasn't much to see anyways.

I felt a prickle on my side, I rolled over, smearing more green blood over the balcony. I know earlier I made a resolution not to leave any deoxyribonucleic acid around, but you know, life finds a way.

Giggling, I mused, how did I even know that the proper name for DNA was deoxyribonucleic acid? I shifted around some more and looked down the railing again, all was still quiet.

I pulled myself to my feet using the railing as leverage. I felt a prick, as if a needle in my side, and swatted at it. The prickle turned into a sharp pain, and I grasped at my side suddenly. What was this? A burst appendicitis?

I bit back a sob as the pain built, I felt my vision go cloudy with tears. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. I crumpled back to the balcony floor as the pain reached a crescendo, feeling as if someone was using a rusty ice cream scoop with nails nailed to stab me repeatedly in the area just left of my belly button.

The pain, however, gradually faded away, but I was still left with a stabbing ache. Do trees get heart attacks? I rolled over, into fresh greenery.

Huh? I stared down at the balcony floor, before, made of some kind of plastic composite and boggled. Tiny little oak saplings grew from the plastic, in some places they had cracked it with the strength of their baby roots.

Instantly I was filled with elation, "Who's a good little baby oakie wokie? Yes, that's right, you are!" I cooed to the baby trees. The little saplings continued to grow, without water or sustenance, beyond my tears, that fell upon them.

The saplings twisted and turned, growing many years within moments, vast roots twisted into the side of the building and crushed it, sending concrete powder and plastic shaving into my hair. Concrete dust caught on the tears on my face and I halfheartedly tried to rub it away with the back of my fist.

The trees, with the sound of creaking and groaning stilled, and I looked at what they had wrought. An opening into the building, of course there had been one before, but the door was locked, and made of steel, not really something easy to open.

Now the steel door had been twisted and deformed by the oaken roots, torn aside like papier-mâché and left in ruin. I gingerly stepped through the door, which was now framed by oaken branches.

I looked over the little office and moved deeper into the building. Stepping into the hallway I looked around, it was dark, really dark. Almost as soon as I thought about my vision, greyscale seemed to crawl over my eyes almost and I could see again. Albeit in shades of gray and grey.

I spotted a bookshelf and tiptoed over to it, looking at the titles. Effecting Humans through Squirrel Behavior. Whut. I looked at the other titles, similarly worded extremely strangely, what was this place? What did they do here?

Feeling a little like the people in Jurassic Park 3 I crept further into the building, looking for strange and unusual fish tanks set in the walls or something. I spotted another office up ahead, one that looked a lot more important than before, it had some of that frosty glass and gold letters. Esquire, Mr. Esquire Wallaby. How strange. I reached down and grabbed the knob, it felt stuck, I pushed it just a little, I swear, and the door cracked open with a sound like a gunshot, the glass shattering everywhere and the wooden door breaking into two pieces.

I was left holding the knob which I just made a face at and dropped. It went thunk on the ground like a knobby piece of metal does when dropped on carpet.
Immediately, an alarm began to sound from deep within the building somewhere. I put my hands over my mouth, oops, and I shot a glare at the knob. It of course was a knob, so it just lay there, being inanimate.

For a moment I just thought of staying here and telling the good old stormtrooper boys, the PRT, what had happened, and then another thought occurred to me, prompting my hands to go somewhere else. Not only had I been trespassing in this building but…

No clothes!

"Cool cherries!" I exclaimed to the heavens and blushed, what did that even mean?

Of course there was also cherries on the wall, in the form of a picture, but that wasn't what I was talking about, no, not at all.

I spotted exactly what I needed, draped over the back of a chair. I skipped over, hopping over the pieces of glass, shattered dreams, and wooden door parts that littered the office and scooped up the suit jacket.

"Clothes!" I trilled happily, and with perhaps a little too much exuberance.

"On your knees! Hands behind your head!" A PRT officer said, bursting into the room from the hallway. He, or she, PRT officers were unisex like that almost slipped on all the glass. The officer was immediately followed by three more officers, all in dark and forbidding PRT armor.

"GAh!" I said and dove under the desk, "I'm not even dressed!"

"Uh," The PRT officer said, "No wait, get out here, you're under arrest!"

"Nuh uh," I said, clutching the suit jacket to my chest, aggressively wrinkling it with my hands, of course I wrinkled it with my hands, what else would I wrinkle it with?

I heard movement and then suddenly there was a yellow nozzle in my face.

"Oh my Golly!" I screamed before my mouth was filled with yellow foam. Yuck! I tried to retch, this thing tasted like silicon mixed with iron and charcoal, and gray juice. Gray juice, brain do you mean grape juice? Either way eww. I didn't even know what silicon tasted like until now. What does the PRT use this stuff for?

"Yes, sir," I faintly heard the officer say, "She was just where you said."

I started to choke. Oh, yeah, I was retching but of course since there was something over my mouth, in fact over my whole face, I choked on my own vomit.
Dimly I heard the PRT officer yelling something and then I felt the ground shaking. My vision was completely obscured, there was foam sticking to my eyeballs, it was very uncomfortable. There was also foam all over my body, I would have giggled again at that really really strange sensation if I wasn't so busy choking. Good job, you dummy.

I died. I just died, dead as a doornail, or maybe more like a plank or as dead as the sound a tree makes when it falls in the forest and nobody can hear it but it's still wrong…

Kaleidoscope in my brain, there was a slurping sound, and I was back in the oak tree with nobody around.

I took a deep breath, back to square one. Just where I was before, that was another unpleasant death? I hope not, though, they should really make that stuff vomitable as well as breathable. I can't believe they didn't run into this problem before. I reached out and felt my body about three blocks away, it was still alive, not dead.

I tried to will myself to return from my spot in the tree, but the tree wouldn't have it. From my spot in the tree I watched tree great oaks stretch farther and farther into the sky and I could hear the crack of shattering concrete as their roots tore into the road and nearby buildings.

Oops.

I was not sorry, so maybe not so much of an oops. I pulled my way out of the oak again, making sure to snag a leaf on the ground for a certain purpose. Um, I snagged three leaves and then made a face. Yeah, this wasn't going to work, I had only two hands, so two leaves would have to do. What to do, I tried various arrangements before settling on one I liked.

Stupid other me, she has my new jacket.

I saw the red and blue flashing lights of more PRT vans arriving and I decided discretion was the better part of valor today. I twirled away to dash in the opposite direction when I spotted something truly and mind bogglingly evil.

Somebody, drilled a hole in my tree! I reproached my tree in sheer horror, looking as the little hole that bled clear sap, I felt hurt, no, I felt violated.

Those, those, heathens. I shook my fist at the distant PRT vans, my face locked in what I was sure was a rictus of rage. I wanted to hurt them, grind them to chunks of viscera, let their blood feed my power, then I would destroy this heathen city, drilling holes in every single person!

I took another deep breath, and then another, forcing down my sheer and utter rage. I turned and briskly walked away, stumbling over the massive crack I had left in the pavement with my departure, I needed to get away from here before I did something I would regret.

Flitting out of sight and shadow, I gradually making my way away from the PRT. I hated them, nasty little sacks of viscera and flesh, I would teach them to do with my bark what they like… I would break…

I was so caught up in my desire for bloody stupid vengeance that I didn't pay attention to my surroundings. The shadows of the building had grown even longer than before, the air stunk of misbegotten refuse, and the alleys were littered with trash. And here I was with two leaves.

"Hey," I heard a voice say from behind me, I could hear and almost taste the malice in the air as I turned slightly. A man stumbled out of an alleyway, an aluminum can crunching under steel toed boots.

"Watcha doing out here?" He grinned in an exceedingly nasty way, mustache riding up his face. Goosebumps rose over my body, I ran.

I saw stars, something impacted the back of my head and I smashed into the pavement, I heard a sharp crack and my vision blurred. I struggled to raise my head and I heard the trees groaning.