Wind Chimes And The Shack | Teen Ink

Wind Chimes And The Shack

November 7, 2016
By Zacklovesbooks BRONZE, Albrightsville, Pennsylvania
Zacklovesbooks BRONZE, Albrightsville, Pennsylvania
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

In the break of dawn, birds never seem to chirp. As matter of fact, they rarely stay. The humid air has made it hard to breathe. There used to be a enthusiastic lake that streamed throughout the forest. Since the ongoing drought has started, the lake died out like everything else. In the dead, fruitless forest, plants consistently wilt away and fog envelopes the ground. Somehow, to the forest’s surprise, there is always someone new living there. 


Deep into the forest there is a deserted shack that never appears to be empty. The aged, lichen- covered shack unlike much of the forest never feels melancholy. It always loves to receive company. It may not look tip-top, but it is decorated for the home coming of its renter who lives there. The shack gets a new visitor every six months.
Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. In seconds, the shack gleamed in excitement as it heard footsteps shuffling towards it. The jingling of keys echoed throughout the shack. Today, there seemed to have been a different sound too, along with the renter. A harmonious sound, but oddly familiar sound, had alarmed the shack.


What did they bring this time it thought as its curtains blew to the sides.


On the front porch stood the renter looking around before clutching the gift they brought for the shack. A friend , that if the  renter happen to leave the shack wouldn’t be lonely. The shack knew that one day the renter  couldn’t stay here forever. In the renter’s grasp was a wind chime, a baby that it was. It had been sheltered for most of its life. The life of a souvenir is sometimes not a good one.


The wind chimes shivered as the unknown specimen held it up like a trophy. It was so entranced by the world around it. It didn’t noticed that it was going to stay there permanently. The wind chime thought it was amazing how the trees were dead and the flowers were monochromatic. It was curious, and it clapped in glee.
The shack felt knocking on it. “Owner, what’s wrong?” it said as they looked down at their owner.
“ I brought you a friend that will keep you company.” They said as they hanged it up on the shack.”It’s just a baby. So, it won’t speak for a bit.”


The shack looked at the wind chimes . It didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t furious but more bewildered. It thought the owner was going to be its friend . It always liked how the owner would hug them each time they came inside. The shack was no fool though it knew that the renter was bound to die after a few years . It just thought that they would at least stay here.


“I have to leave; my family wants me back home.  I still want to see my family. Maybe it could at least grow on you,” they said as they stepped off the porch. “ See ya, Home.”


The wind chimes cried as the owner left them. It was then , when the wind chimes saw the shack. It didn’t understand why the thing left it here. It wanted to be held by anyone. It felt empty with the shack and vice versa with it.


The shack glanced at it and it said “ Don’t worry, I’ll be here for you. We can both keep each other company.”
The shack really did not mind losing another owner. It was so normal. It liked how life goes on when everything seems to slow down. It understood what the wind chimes were going through as a matter of fact. The shack remembered being a tree before.


The wind chimes looked at the shack and tried to say “ Wuah duo u me-e-an?”. It did not understand what was going on; it reached out towards the shack. The wind chimes did not like change very much, but this seemed like a good change.


The next moment, a strong gush of air unhooked the wind chimes and blew it away. The wind chimes didn’t cry as they saw the shack. The shack smiled and waited for someone new.The wind chimes  just smiled as they landed on a oak tree.


The author's comments:

This piece is about change and how it can happen at anytime or moment . 


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