La Oa Monologue

Title
In the arid, vast desert, there lies a lonely log that’s inlaid its roots deep into the core of the Earth, searching for water of any kind. Over the years, the thick, green roots crept up and slowly broke through the soil, as if they were alive. As if they were suffocating and urging to escape the weight and darkness of the Earth. Skyrocketing up and begging to lean inward, the intertwined roots began to create a canopy, shielding the patch of ground from the sun. There was something lingering in the air, a presence. When felt, the roots bursted opened. Green liquid seeped out, and dripped to the ground. When it began to pool upon the sand, stems began to rise, buds began to appear. A forest had emerged from the ground within minutes. All the colors and the beauty combined made a work of art, a scene that looked as if it were painted by a master. Within the painting, the presence was identified, it was La’oa. Finally, for once in her life she had felt at home, she had found her passion, her calling, nature.
Her parents had been so excited when they found out they were having a boy, but the tides turned and it was a girl. This girl was a masterpiece with her long, luscious, dirty blonde hair and her hazel eyes, but in her selfish parents point of view, she was nothing but a pile of dirt upon their hands. Although La’oa was filled with imperfections, she was proud of them, and that’s what made her unique. La’oa spent most of her days up in her room. Tinted windows. Lights off. Laying miserably in her bed. Everyday this recurring tingling, mystical feeling came back, but La’oa could just never get her hand on what it was. It wasn’t until she overheard her mother, Demeter, and sister, Persephone, talking about the family that they deprived of a