It was Friday afternoon and we as almost every weekend went to the cottage. It‘s spring or summer, I really don’t know, but I’m sure, that the weather was very nice. The sun was shining and there were no gray clouds on the sky. Only white feathery wisps, which promised beatiful day.
As every Friday I was walking in near forest. I like it. I can think, listen to lovely tune of some birds and smell the clear air.
When I went to the part of this wood, where I have not seen someone yet, I noticed something. Or maybe someone. It was only one short moment. I started runnig and in following moment I ran into it.
It was a small girl. To my opinion she was nine years old. She was sitting on one ripped trunk and she cried. I did not see her face, because her raven hair shielded it.
„What’s wrong with you? Why are you weeping?“ I asked her, when she noticed me.
She lifted her head and looked me with her great terful eyes. „She is death.“
„Who?“ I think my voice sounded fearful. And I felt like that in that moment.
„She. My sister, is… is death.“ She again started crying.
„And, where… where is she? Where… is… her body?“
„You don’t know? She is there.“ Her tears stopped stream, but she had still sad voice.
When I heard it I felt, that I should ran away, ran home and stayed there. But, although I was affraid of it, I wondered, where the sister of the girl was.
„What it means ‚she’s there‘?“ I asked finally.
„Her spirit is there and on her body I’m sitting.“
„She is the tree?“
„No, you don’t understand anything. Her mind is the mind of this tree. And the tree is death. So she cannot be alive. You would propably said she was fairy.“
„Fairy? And you are fairy too?“
„Yes, I’m mind of one tree. If you want it, I can show it to you.“ She didn’t wait to my answer and she got up. She slowly went away and I followed her.
She stopped and pointed to one young oak.
„I’m mind of this tree,“ she said strongly.
I touched to that oak and stroked it. I didn’t know what I should said. I looked her hand, which was holded something. She noticed it and opened her palm. There was rill of hair there.
„Hairs of my sister,“ she said. Her expression signified she wanted to be alone. I slowly went out and I wanted to remember the way.
I came home and I desired to say everything to my parents. But I didn’t do it because I knew she told me the secret. And I promised to me that I didn’t share it to anyone.

One week later, we went to the cottage again. First of all I went to the forest and looked for the young oak. I found that place after few minutes. But… the tree wasn’t there. It was ripped. Only the trunk lied there. The trunk of young oak. When I looked attentively, I noticed hairs. Rill of raven hair. Although I knew it very well, I didn’t want to imagine what happened with the small girl. The arboreal fairy…