Regret

Tom walked out of the forest and toward his parents' home, completely engrossed in thoughts about the past. Though he was proud of the person he had become, he had one major regret that constantly troubled him. One regret that was constantly in his thoughts; sometimes it consumed his thoughts entirely, but mostly it stayed off in the wings, constantly pecking holes in his concentration. "Remember me?" it would say. "I will never leave you alone or give you a moment's peace." And Tom knew it was true. Because no matter how hard Tom tried to move on, no matter how many people he tried to help or how many awards he received, he couldn't drown out this thought; this one regret:

"You didn't save her."

It was always there, haunting and harrassing him, but over the years he had managed to find ways to dampen the sound. Now, though, it seemed to attack him with a vengeance.

"You were supposed to be different than the others."

"You were supposed to succeed. But you didn't."

"You didn't save her."

With every step he took toward his parents' house and out of the forest, the thought grew louder and more insistent in his mind. Tom felt as if he could almost hear a voice berating him for his one major failure. Yes, Tom had helped many people during his lifetime, but none of them mattered anymore. She was the one that mattered. She was the one that he had been "destined" to save. It was because of her that the forest had chosen him at twelve.

And he had failed.

Finally, Tom reached the aged white farmhouse belonging to his parents. He placed his hands on the gate, turning around to take one last look at the forest. The words "You didn't save her" still echoed in his mind.

"I tried," he muttered. "I couldn't do it." He waited, just to see if he had managed to quell his troubled thought, even if for a moment.

Silence.

Then, Tom heard a whisper, and he knew this whisper was not in his thoughts. It came from deep within the forest. Rather than being accusatory, however, it sounded deeply hurt. "You wouldn't," it said.

Tom felt that shudder run up the length of his back, and he knew exactly to whom that voice belonged.

That damned tree.

Well, he wasn't going to listen. Not this time. He had followed the tree's instructions long ago, and it had only caused trouble. He was a grown man now, and he was too old to give in to the foolishness of his own imagination. After all, this whole tree business was a creation of his subconscious, wasn't it?

Yes. He thought. I got rid of these ridiculous thoughts once, and I'll get rid of them once again. It's just the shock of being back in this place. That's all. And with that, he passed through the gate and into his parents' back yard.

The house was similar to the way it was when he was a child, but the years were starting to creep up on it. The paint, which once had been brilliantly white, was not starting to turn yellow and peel off the wooden slats. The wrap-around porch needed to be swept and stained, but it still held the rocking chairs and wicker furniture that his family used to sit on during the summer nights before Megan was taken.

Megan. It was best not to think of her. And best to never mention her name around his family. That would be difficult this week, seeing as how all of his siblings and parents would be together for the first time in ten years. That would be difficult because it was the anniversary of Megan's disappearance.

But no one would mention it. It would be at the forefront of everyone's thoughts, but no one would mention it. They would bite their tongues and paint on the forced smiles, all while thinking about Megan and how everything would have been different if she were still here.

Maybe, if Megan were still here, Dad wouldn't have started drinking. Maybe, if Megan were still here, the family would have stayed close together, rather than spreading out across the country. Maybe, if Megan were still here, Mom would still be alive, and her funeral wouldn't be happening tomorrow.