Story is below.
Alyssa was sitting under the willow tree, her favorite spot in Pennsylvania. Her legs dangled off of a rocky ledge, and the azure sky enveloped her in a tranquil scene of beauty where loneliness and hurt didn’t exist. The willow vines sheltered her from the downpour of hate, and she looked down upon the crashing waves of war, but she knew they were now far below her. The bonds that had been holding her were now mere dust; the weights tied to her chest had become light as a feather. She felt her spirit soar, a bird broken free from a rusted old cage. Then the friends she had made up for herself paraded in, serenading her like peasants would serenade a king. They chatted, gossiped, danced, and laughed with Alyssa as they whiled away the hours. The mere willow tree was now a palace of grace and beauty, and Alyssa knew she was at home. Then, a single raindrop fell from above, draining all of the magic from the old willow tree. The waves were now just waves, the sky was now just a dull sheet of blue, and her friends were whisked away, along with all feelings of safety and comfort. This single drop was followed by a sprinkle of rain, that stung Alyssa’s skin and matted her hair. She stepped out from the shelter of the willow tree, and was met with a downpour of hail. The willow tree slumped, defeated by the harsh weather. Alyssa began the journey home, but after the first few minutes her knees were shaking with cold and her eyes were almost blinded. She continued to struggle on, but was met by an unsuspected pothole, and she tripped into a pool of mud. She turned around to look up, and her gaze was met by a little boy wearing a bedraggled yellow raincoat and holding a little, worn out blue umbrella. His hair was filthy and his legs were caked with dirt, but his eyes shined with an unexplainable happiness that seemed to emanate light and warmth, erasing any traces of bitterness on his face. He offered his little arm to Alyssa, and she took it, hauling herself to her feet. She flashed him a smile of thanks, expecting him to go on his way, maybe find somewhere safe to stay for the night. But rather than abandoning Alyssa, the little boy opened his blue umbrella to her. It creaked, but was still an umbrella. Why would he offer his only thing to she, a normal girl with plenty of money? Before she could make a decision, he grabbed hold of Alyssa’s hand and pulled her under the little umbrella. Though it was tiny, made for kids as small as he, she just barely fit and it shielded her from the violent hail. The next day, as Alyssa set out for the willow tree, the little boy tagged along. He followed her like an eager puppy, asking curiously about everything in their path. She reached the willow tree and climbed in, the boy close behind. But try as she might, Alyssa couldn’t get the usual magic of the tree to work. No ghostly friends appeared to greet her, and the willow was just a normal tree, rather than a magnificent castle, sparkling with a mesmerizing luster. A tear beaded up in her eye as she realized that all that really mattered to her had faded away overnight, a cloth becoming dull from hours of work. Then the little boy climbed into her lap. He extended one of his fingers and caressed a willow vine, awe shining in his eyes. Alyssa felt warmth spreading throughout her soul, running in little streams like melted chocolate. She didn’t need the willow tree to be happy, Alyssa decided. All she needed was a friend.
