• I stand by the lake, eyes glued to the leaves floating on the water. There are so many of them. Smiling, I lean over to touch the warm water. Then, he appears. The man in black.
    "It must be fall," says the man in black. "Leaves fall from the trees, and onto the water."
    I shake my head. "That is too simple, mister."
    His face turns from a smug smile to a facial expression of confusion. Scratching his chin, he peers up at the trees. Their mourning faces stare at him, screaming the answer over and over. He then looked up at the sky to see the sun was shining, and the weather was warm.
    "How could this be? How could the leaves be falling off of the trees in such a season?" he asked me. "It has to be fall, regardless of the forecast."
    I laugh, and shake my head. He seems to be annoyed with the carelessness in my reaction.
    "They're crying, sir. See the leaves? They're fresh and green. Why would you assume such a thing if the answer was right in front of you?" I asked him.
    "Trees cannot cry, young one. They just stand there, waiting to sleep for seasons, and then come back to life in others." he said. "And that is all."
    "Do you not see the world? Do you see what it has become?" I asked almost yelling.
    He snickered and pulled out a lighter. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, he said, "You're so silly, little girl."
    Smiling some more, he lit a cigarette and took a large drag. Exhaling the smoke towards the trees, he began to laugh.
    "Oh, come on! It's all good fun! This doesn't cause their death, no not at all. They cause their own death!" he shouted at me, continuing to laugh. "If they wanted to live, they would go somewhere more fitting to their needs. Right?"
    I was ready for this. The trees explained to me years ago, and I knew what was coming. I started to run a few feet away from the man in black. He laughed even harder. His yellow, rotting teeth getting smaller as I got farther. I could still see it. The tree's roots came shooting up from the ground, and wrapped themselves around the man in black. More trees came to assist, and eventually he was buried with the roots. When it was safe, I walked over to the tree he was standing under. The cigarette was still lit. Looking around, I made sure nobody was around to see. I picked the cigarette up, and took a drag.

    This is a story based on experiences in my life. When I was young, my mother smoked. I learned a lot in school about how horrible smoking was for you, so I pestered her to quit. Eventually, she did quit. Unfortunately, the habit was passed down to me regardless of what I knew, and what I tried to save. I started smoking when I was 12 years old. I have quit a few times, but I go back to smoking in the end. I smoke currently, but I intend to try and quit again sometime.