It was the last day of school and I still had not finished my tree project. Mr. Freeman was giving me extra time for me to finish; he didn't want to have to give me a zero, and was refusing to hand grades in on time. I had until Mr. Freeman finished covering the wall with a sunset mural. He covered up most of it, but kept my name on there until I finished.
I made my tree unsymmetrical. It's bark carved with the initials of a long ago couple. I make a branch look sick; it's droopy and sad looking. The top is healthy and more leaves are sprouting. It's not a perfect tree, nothing is perfect. It feels right, when it's not perfect, like it's perfectly imperfect.
Everyone knows what happened that summer. The lacrosse team did everything but keep quiet, but it's nice now; everyone accepts me. Now that they know what happened they don't hate me for calling the cops. They understand. IT probably will not get another chance to do that to anyone else, everyone knows, everyone is aware and on the lookout. Anyways, he left, taking most of it with him. I can finally start to let it go.
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