They are Cutting Down the Big Trees

It's already late. Her mind is still wandering around and active as ever. She just can't lie in bed forever; her back is starting to ache. What she did is that she got out of bed and walked to her study table as if the floor is brittle and fragile, afraid of waking up everyone in the house. She turned her study lamp on, grabbed her writing pad and on her little, delicate right hand was her favorite yellow Winnie the Pooh pencil and this was what she wrote.

Today is Saturday, July 5, 2011 and its past ten, way past my bedtime, but I still can't sleep. I don't want to wake up Mum or Dad or Beca or anyone else. Well, there's something that really bothered me since Teacher told us about it this morning. And its the effects of cutting down the trees. It's just so scary like seeing a ghost.

Teacher said that if trees are being continued to be cut then floods might take place and it certainly would not be the ordinary one because it might be so deep that it would reach Dad's waist and that's up to my shoulders! There would be no more fresh air because trees produce oxygen. Teacher let us imagined ourselves being super small and were inside a kettle with boiling water and asked us what we'll feel. We told her that it is going to be super hot, that sweat will pour in every part of our bodies and that, we'll possibly boil as well. She told us we're right and that those were the things that we're going to feel if all the big trees in the world are gone.

Today, the condition of my surroundings isn't like that inside of a kettle. That is, the climate is still the normal tropical one. There are still big trees around; whether in the park, in the high ways, in school and in our backyard though Teacher said trees in the world today is slowly decreasing in number. I can still see green fields in the province though none here in the city.

I just hope those bad guys who kill trees stop doing what they're doing. And I hope earth inside a boiling water in a kettle wouldn't come true sooner or even later and that, it's all Teacher's imagination because it really makes me bite my fingernails.

Then she suddenly yawned and felt her eyes heavy. She wanted to crawl to her bed. She just wanted to close both her eyes. But she decided to continue and put into conclusion her writing. So, she did by adding the sentences, "Oh well, I guess sleep is already here. Good night, my writing pad."

She detached the piece of paper where she was writing from the writing pad. She tiptoed to her bed, peaked under it, went for the box under it and placed the paper there. She tiptoed back to her study table and turned off the lamp. After, she walked to her bed as if the floor is brittle and fragile and went to bed. Then the silence and coldness of the night embraced her.