"Branches of Silence" by Ian Gielen
Branches of Silence
by Ian Gielen
“Daniel dear, don’t go too close to the forest there, okay?”
Daniel came to an abrupt halt; his sister followed suit, stopping next to him.
He eyed the strange-looking trees at the border of the forest curiously. With tree trunks spiralling like the bend of a hook before straightening, they were quite a sight. It wasn’t just the shape of the trunks that drew his attention. Their empty branches, bereft of leaves, seemed to claw at the sky, as if trying to find an escape, each one united in the same goal.
“Can you hear that?” Marybeth, his sister, whispered, her wide eyes shifting between the trees as if searching for something.
A frown creased Daniel’s face as he listened, but all he heard was silence.
“I don’t hear anything,” he said, puzzled at his sister’s odd behaviour.
“C’mon, we have to go back.”
“But why?” Marybeth asked, her brow furrowed.
“Because Momo says so, and we only just got here. We don’t want to make her angry.”
Marybeth sighed in frustration. “Fine,” she said, her eyes glancing longingly toward the forest.
Daniel could hear her stomping behind him as they walked back toward the house. Tonight, he would ask Nono about the forest.
The pair had arrived in Romania earlier that morning, their parents having to travel for a series of work conferences. Despite living in New York and not having much contact with their grandparents besides the occasional phone call, their parents had organized for them to stay with them for a month. The last time Daniel had been here, he was 3 or 4 years old, and all he could remember were fleeting images. His sister, a year younger, didn’t remember ever being there. Now at thirteen and twelve, the strange forest at the edge of their grandparents’ home sparked their curiosity; neither had ever seen anything like it.
“Well, come on, you two. If we leave now, we will still have time to see what we can find at the market.” Startled from his daydream, he saw his grandfather outside the house, beckoning them to hurry.
He exchanged pained glances with Marybeth, and the pair increased their pace reluctantly. Neither of them felt particularly like going out so soon after arriving. Daniel stole one last glance at the trees before the two of them were ushered into the waiting car, their grandmother already waiting in the passenger seat wearing a gentle smile.
#
“Those trees in the forest,” Daniel yawned, as his grandfather tucked him into bed. “Why do they look so strange? Why can’t we go near them?”
He’d only just now remembered to ask. Having spent hours at the crowded market, navigating the busy streets with their grandparents and taking in the sights, all he and Marybeth could think about was going to bed. Marybeth had fallen asleep on the car ride back and had gone straight to bed, while Daniel had managed a shower beforehand. In the opposite bed, he could hear her soft snores.
Nono frowned with worry at the mention of the trees.
“Hoia-Baciu Forest is… cursed. Those trees—you must stay away from them. They make people sick. Give you headaches, rashes, and sometimes even burns. You can get lost there. Electronics do not work there. Phones do not work there. You must stay away.” He eyed Marybeth with concern.
“I know she is curious. Please, you must make sure she doesn’t go there.”
He offered a faint smile. “We can go to a much better forest. Somewhere much safer with rivers and mountains. It’s lovely there. Ok?” Daniel nodded, forcing a smile on his face. He had to admit, Nono’s worry put a damper on his desire to check out the strange trees. He decided to tell Marybeth first thing in the morning. Closing his eyes, he almost immediately drifted off to sleep.
#
“Marybeth!” Daniel shouted, hearing Nono and Momo calling for her from the other side of the house.
Awakening to his grandparents’ cries, he had immediately noticed Marybeth’s bed was empty. The sun had only just risen when he had run out of the house, still wearing his pyjamas. He knew right away where she’d gone. Now he stood facing the forest at its edge, his grandparents naively believing she had gone in the opposite direction, but he knew better. He took a deep breath and threw a quick look over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t seen before sprinting inside, using the peculiar trees for cover.
“Marybeth,” he called out, his eyes darting through the trees as he ran. Then he spotted something—a flash of what looked like her pyjamas in the distance.
He kept running, a strange chill settling over him with each step. Something wasn’t right here. Total silence reigned. No rustling of animals. No birds chirping nor a flap of the wing. A stillness that shouldn’t be.
He paused by the tree he thought he’d spotted his sister at, surveying his surroundings.
“Dannnnniiiiiielllll, runnnnnnn,” the whisper sliced through the silence like a blade. Daniel’s skin prickled. He spun around, heart hammering, but saw nothing. “Mmm… Marybeth? Marybeth, where are you?”
“Runnnnnnnnnn.” The whisper was fading now, losing its intensity but still sounded nearby. He glanced at the tree nearest him and hesitated. There was something strangely familiar about it. It was almost as if… His gaze drifted upward, and his face froze in a mask of horror. From the end of one branch, a hand stretched out, fingers grasping at nothing. His sister’s hand. Pale, trembling. Then, with a sickening crack, it twisted, darkened, and hardened into bark.
“N…No.” Daniel dropped to his knees, pure terror pinning him to the ground. His voice barely escaped his throat.
Behind him, a sob broke the silence.
Nono stood there, tears streaking down his face.
“It’s too late,” he cried hoarsely. “I told you not to come here. The forest is hungry. And now… it has fed.”