The tree stood, tall and bright: watching all of the humans play and dance in the grass. It was mostly interested in one human, she was sad, and didn’t run. She was looking around as if she did something bad and someone was gonna catch her. Then someone said something to her, and she ran from them, tears streaming from her eyes. Then she sat under the tree sobbing, watching all the kids laughing at her. The tree felt sad for the girl. They’re the losers here, the tree said to the girl. The girl got up looked at the tree, surprised and scared, and ran away. She talked to the people, and there she was, happily playing again. She came every day, sat under the tree, while the tree said something to her that brightened her day. It would speak into her mind, somehow, saying things like, you may not be perfect, but beauty is imperfect, even though it had no mouth. Its voice would flood the girl with calmness, and allow her to stand up to her so-called friends. She would ask it for advice, and in return, take care of it. Then one day, she arrived, happily skipping, wanting to tell the tree about her morning. But when she arrived, she saw something horrible. And she screamed. The tree was gone. Only a tiny stump remained. She cried and cried and cried, watching something that died that was once a great friend.