For a whole year since the accident, June had shuffled around her house trying not to think about it. She had hidden all of the things that had reminded her of Lily in a cupboard in the cellar, including Lily’s bedsheets, her clothes, and her favorite teddy bear. June wanted to live a life free of grief, and she knew that she had to be strong to do that.

It had been exactly a year since June had been into the forest, because it reminded her too much of her daughter. She had sat by her window with her cup of tea for months. She had witnessed the sighing trees release their leaves as autumn drifted in. She gazed at the branches as they were freshly laden with snow, and she had seen the buds on the trees sprout and blossom with the nourishing spring rains.

But now, in the midsts of summer, when it was too hot for tea and when the fans did nothing but circulate the stifling air around her cottage, she made up her mind. It was time she went into the forest once again. She didn’t want to be stuck inside of her house any longer. Like the woods, she decided to put death behind her and live anew. No longer would the reminder of that day within the forest restrain her from venturing outdoors. She decided to face her fears once and for all.

At precisely 11 o’clock, with the gentle sun slowly climbing the sky, June slipped out the back door and trudged across the backyard. She fixed her eyes on the forest ahead of her, determined not to turn back. The trees loomed closer and closer with every step. She began to falter as the tree’s shadows fell across her face.

“June,” she scolded herself, clenching her fists, “This is no time to be timid.” With this in mind, and with a purposeful bounce in her step, June strode towards into the forest to face the scene of the accident and conquer her lingering grief once and for all.

The forest was every bit as peaceful as June had remembered. The sunlight sifted through the summer-green leaves and dappled her dark hair with golden dots. A soft breeze quivered against her skin. The moss beneath her feet was springy and full of morning dew that soaked into her shoes. She tilted her head upwards and gazed towards the treetops in which finches were singing sweetly. In the corner of her eye, she saw the full-moon face of Lily gazing upwards next to her. June squeezed her eyes shut, and slowly lowered her head. There was no Lily here. After a moment, June opened her eyes and continued forwards, letting her hand swing through the empty space where Lily had not been.

Although June was determined not to think of Lily as she continued through the woods, that smiling girl was all that came to mind. She saw Lily in everything out here in the woods. Her hair was the ferns brushing June’s ankles. Her arms were the ivy vines that curled around the trunks of maple trees. Her round face was the polished rock sitting in the bubbling brook. Her little pattering feet were the sounds of beech leaves rustling in the breeze. Her small, happy eyes were the green, fledgling achorns that budded in the nooks of oak branches. Her smooth, pale skin was the bark of the birch trees.

June vividly remembered every little detail of her daughter out in the raw beauty of nature. It seemed that Lily still existed here, out among these streams that never stopped their flow, among these birds that never paused their hymns, among these trees that never truly died. June had held in her grief for over a year. Now, a tear fell down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away. Although the forest was a painful reminder of what she had lost, it was a reminder that she must not let grief overtake her. June rubbed her eyes to stop any further tears, and tightened her arm across her chest to smother the pain that churned within.

June glanced upwards and, through her blurred eyes, saw the trees thinning out into an open area filled with wildflowers and tall grasses. Her heart lurched, but she continued to trudge onwards. It was much warmer out in the field, but June didn’t notice. Her vision was focused solely on the train tracks ahead of her. Against her will, a memory resurfaced.

“Mama, I found something in the woods!” Lily giggled, grabbing June’s hand. She pulled her out of the lawn chair and across the yard.

“Slow down Lily! You’re so fast!” June laughed, letting herself get dragged forwards by her daughter’s insistent tug.

Lilly skipped through the forest, excited to show mama her new discovery. It was summer, and everything was warm and alive.

“It’s up ahead, Mama!” Lily said, pointing through the trees towards a clearing.

“Dear, there’s train tracks up there. How about we just stand here to be safe and you can tell me about your new discovery?” June said, placing a hand on Lily’s shoulder to stop her from running ahead.

“Mama…”Lily pouted, swinging her arms. “I just wanna show you some pretty flowers…”

June sighed, then said, “Alright. As long as you stay right by my side. I think I hear a train whistle. We have to be very careful.”

“Ok, Mama!”

The two of them continued through the woods and stepped out into the clearing. Like June had expected, a train was approaching. Lily continued to skip forwards towards the tracks.

“Lily, come back here now!” June gasped, snatching at the back of Lily’s shirt. Her hands clutched at empty air. Lily was too far ahead.  

“There it is, Mama! Look at the pink flowers! It’s so pretty, Mama!” Lily stopped in the tracks, pointing across to a small patch of foxglove.

June screamed, dashing forwards.

“Mama…?” Lily said, turning around, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

The train hit.

June made a noise like she was hurt. All she could see was Lily skipping forwards through the forest, excited to show mama her new discovery. All she could see was Lily pointing through the forest to the patch of pink wildflowers just beyond. All she could see was the train bearing down as her daughter - her daughter - ran onto the tracks and never returned.

“No...,” June whimpered. She fell to her knees at the edge of the train tracks and wept. The long grass bent in the wind and caressed her back softly, whispering quietly in her ears. Let Lily go. Let Lily go.

“No..,” June cried out again, grabbing fistfuls of dirt and grass. June pushed herself upwards and stumbled towards the tracks. She closed her eyes in order to banish the image of Lily from her mind. She frantically tried to think of something else, anything else. She turned her face upwards and tried to see the golden sun through her tears.

But, in her head, the shriek echoed loudly, incessantly. It was the sound of death, fast approaching. She bore each agonizing blast with dread. The sound hurt her ear like the blow of a hammer. What she heard was the train, bearing down upon her. She turned to look and saw the engine approaching, growing closer every second. Her eyes drifted across the tracks to the patch of pink wildflowers. Lily stood there, waving for her mama to come join her. She was laughing and jumping. She pointed to the flowers, and mouthed, I’m here. I’m here. I made it.

June cried out to her daughter to wait, to wait for her. The train grew nearer. June cried out again, raking her nails across her arms. She took a trembling step onto the train tracks, her eyes never leaving Lily’s round face.

“I’m coming. I’m coming,” she whispered, sobbing.

The the train’s whistle blew once again, loudly, hysterically. June shut her eyes tight, tears spilling out, and braced for the impact. She jumped as something grazed her cheek. Startled, she glanced down and saw a maple leaf drifting placidly through the air. The world seemed to stop spinning. June’s breath caught in her throat. Time seemed frozen, for a moment. June stared up at the treeline above her. She remembered watching these very trees give way to death during autumn, their red color showing their powerful grief at the loss of their leaves. She remembered the despair of the forest during the winter. She remembered the rebirth of the green buds during the spring.

Her breathing faltered, and she reached out to catch the leaf. She stepped off the tracks, her back to the wildflowers. Her hair rushed forwards as the wind from the passing train pushed against her. The roar of the wheels deafened all noise. She stood there amongst the grasses for a while, staring into the trees, until the sound of the train faded into the distance. Slowly, she raised the maple leaf to her chest and clutched it there as she stepped back into the forest.