The leaves on my oak tree have started obliterating nearby objects

As a kid, I was always infatuated with my grandparents’ oak tree. It was enormous, with branches that twisted and curled up towards the sky like a million ethereal fingers. The trunk was thick and gnarled, with deep grooves in the bark that seemed to collect rainwater. I spent hours climbing up the tree and slithering back down, the bark scraping my arms and legs. I was infatuated with the way the leaves on the tree seemed to whisper to one another when the wind blew through the branches. It was as if they spoke their own language, one that I desperately wanted to understand.<br><br>When my grandparents passed away, they left the property to my mother. She inherited the house and the tree with it, but she never wanted to live there. She had bad memories of the tree, ones that she never wanted to confront. So instead of moving in and cleaning out the place, my mother decided to let it sit vacant for a long time. When I turned 16, she finally let me move in.<br><br>The house was a mess when I arrived. My grandparents had been gone for nearly a decade, and my mother had never once cleaned the place out. Everything they had accumulated over the years was still in the house, including all of their clothes and belongings. The only problem was that they had passed in the middle of winter, and when I moved in it was the middle of summer. The smell inside the house was terrible, and when I first opened the door I could feel myself gagging.<br><br>Because of the state of the house, I ended up spending a lot of time outside. I had spent countless hours in the backyard as a kid, so it felt surreal to be there again all these years later. I would spend hours sitting in the grass, listening to the tree’s leaves rustle in the wind. The tree seemed smaller than I remembered it, and the leaves didn’t seem to whisper to one another quite so much. Still, I felt a deep sense of peace when I sat in the tree’s shadow.<br><br>I continued to sit in the grass every day for the rest of the summer. I would sit out in the morning to watch the sun rise, and I would sit out in the evening to watch the sun dip below the horizon. It became a daily ritual, one that I always looked forward to.<br><br>It was during one of these rituals that I first noticed the tree acting strangely. It was the middle of fall, and the leaves on the tree had begun to change color. They were a deep shade of gold, and they seemed to glow in the light of the setting sun. I was mesmerized by the way they fluttered in the wind, and I felt a sense of peace as I sat in the grass.<br><br>As I sat there, I suddenly felt a chill run down my spine. I glanced over my shoulder, and I saw a small yellow leaf dip below the horizon. I thought it was odd, but I figured that it had just been blown by the wind. That was until a few more leaves began to dip below the horizon as well. The wind wasn’t strong enough to blow them that far, and I couldn’t understand where they were going.<br><br>It was then that I realized the tree was slowly starting to…obscure the nearby landscape. The fence that used to surround the property was now nearly invisible, and I could no longer see the neighbor’s house. The only thing I could see was the tree’s leaves, fluttering and dancing in the wind. I felt a sense of awe as I gazed out at the leaves, and I realized that the tree was slowly expanding its presence.<br><br>Over the next few days, I watched as the tree continued to spread its leaves across the horizon. The fence was fully obscured now, and the neighbor’s house was nothing more than a shadowy outline. The only thing I could see clearly was the tree, its leaves fluttering and dancing in the wind. I felt a sense of wonder as I gazed out at the leaves, and I realized that the tree had become a part of me.<br><br>In a way, it felt like the tree was alive. I would see it moving in the mornings when I woke up, its leaves fluttering in the breeze. When I went to bed at night, I would hear it whispering in the wind. It was as if the tree was a living, breathing creature, one that had grown from the earth itself.<br><br>As the days passed, the tree’s presence continued to grow. It seemed to be spreading its leaves further and further, until I could no longer see anything but the tree. Even the sky seemed to be disappearing, replaced by the tree’s leaves and branches. I felt a sense of fear creeping in, and I realized that the tree was slowly taking over my life.<br><br>One night, I couldn’t sleep. The wind was howling through the branches, and I could feel the tree’s leaves fluttering in the breeze. I tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable, but I just couldn’t seem to relax. Finally, I decided to get up and take a walk outside.<br><br>When I stepped out into the night air, I felt a chill run down my spine. The tree was towering above me, its leaves fluttering in the wind. I could feel its branches moving, as if it was alive and trying to grab me. I pulled my jacket tighter, trying to warm myself up, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in.<br><br>As I stood there, I realized that the tree had become a part of me. It seemed to be taking over my life, spreading its leaves and branches across the world. I felt a sense of wonder as I gazed up at the tree, and I realized that I would never be able to escape its presence.<br><br>I am writing this in my bedroom right now. It’s the middle of winter, and snow is falling outside. I love watching the snow fall from the window, only problem is, I can no longer see the snow fall through the window panes. The only visible thing that I see from my bedroom window is the tree’s leaves. I have lost track of time, because I can no longer see the sun rise, or the sun set. I don’t even know if the sun is setting/rising anymore. I just have the tree’s leaves surrounding me, whispering to me, and fluttering in the wind.<br><br>I wish I could leave this house, but I don’t know how, because I can no longer see the door. The leaves have surrounded me, and have enveloped me. I am just surrounded by the leaves, and they are all that I see.<br><br>All I can see is the leaves.