Weeping Angels

Day after day, we always met here on our way home from school. And day after day, we would sit here together, watching the hanging branches dance in the slight breeze as we laughed and played. Constantly moving, you were, always daring me to go higher and higher. You always won, though. Each and everyday, you climbed higher. Higher than the day before but you always managed to climb higher
It was always a competition for me, never for you though. Everyday you tried to get me to climb higher and everyday I began to hate you more and more for showing off.
"Hurry up, Selby!" You hollered from the top of the tree. "You can do it! I know you can!" Hanging from the last sturdy branch, you waited for me. You always wait for me, no matter what.
"I don't know if I can," I shout to you in the heavens, my voice lacking the confidence yours always had. Up so high, you look like an angel with the sun beaming behind you, creating a glowing halo around your nearly heavenly body.
Looking up at the tree now, it doesn't seem nearly as giant as it did during our youth. The branches bare now as the cool weather rolls in from the north. With a shudder, I pull my jacket closer, watching as my breath rolls in the cool November chill. With a sudden realization, I remember it was on a day just like today, that you climbed higher than either of us had ever reached before.
"Come one up! You can make it!" You yelled from the highest branch.
"But I can't!" I holler back up, pieces of bark piercing their way into my skin as I grip the branches around me. "You know I can't so come back down me!" My teeth gritted in a false smile, trying hard to hold back the tears that begin to swell in my eyes. Looking down, I'm more than convinced this was the stupidest thing she eve made me do.
"Betcha can't catch me!" You yell down, your perfect eyes sparkling in the sunlight at you look down at the lowly creature that was me. A wink and a nod, and you start back up, climbing to the heavens leaving me behind. Like a squirrel, you navigated the thin branches like a natural-born climber. Without an ounce of fear, you grew smaller and smaller, nearly disappearing in the glorious rays of the sun.
I can't believe you. We were supposedly best friends but I always knew you would leave me. I didn't have your confidence; I didn't have your incurable optimistic view of life. I wasn't you and I never would be. But yet again, you abandoned me.
Couldn't you see I was scared?
Couldn't you see I needed your help?
Couldn't you see I wasn't you?
But no, you couldn't see any of this could you? So you just continued climbing to the heavens, leaving your best friend deserted on the earth below. Even now, thinking back to that day, I still hate you. I cannot comprehend who would be so heartless to just leave me there, three-quarters of the way up the tall willow, all alone.
But I'm older now and you aren't. I can beat you to the top this time. I know it.
And so I begin my climb, one foot into the small knot two feet off the ground, one hand gripping the low branch, the one we used to tie the hanging vines together to form swings. With a few grunts and even more splinters, I make it back to that memorable spot. The one where you left me, tears streaming down my face as you laugh off the burden that was I.
Soon, you disappear completely, the low light from the setting sun engulfing your earthly body. I'm fed up with you now. I'll always be the second banana as long as you're around. And with my sense blinded by the rage that has built up during our long friendship, I reach up to grab another branch and another and another. Finally I find your hiding spot, up on the highest branch. You look like an angel, the sun forming a faint glow around your entire body.
"I wonder if angels can fly..." I whisper to myself, loud enough for you to hear if you weren't so self-absorbed. Without a second thought, I scream loud enough to rattle your nerves and make your lose your concentration. My screams drown out your own and as if the world is slows down, I watch as you fall, reaching out in vain to grab the branches snapping beneath your falling body.
And with one last look, I see the look of utter confusion in your eyes before the sickening splat echoes in the still air.
"I guess angels can't fly," I say, finally reaching the highest point with one last grunt of effort as my arms begin to burn. Struggling, I make it to my feet, wondering if I look similar to you, standing here at the same time with the same light making me glow.
"Good-bye, my beautiful Willow." And with one last look to the heavens, I test to see if traitors can fly.