Neglected Memory

   The child gasped in awe at the small flower in front of him. He crouched down, blue eyes staring at the plant. His tiny fingers gently caressed the pink leaves. It was softer than silk; that he wouldn't lie. His fingers rubbed the leaves together, mouth giggling that it tickled his skin.

   "That, my son, is a little Truffula tree. It's still in bloom. But when it grows, it's gonna be the most prettiest and biggest tree in the world."

   The 4-year old turned around and looked up. His father stood behind him, hands holding his waist. "Daddy!" the child cheered as he hopped back to his feet and ran into his father's arms. The man laughed as Once-ler tugged his neck. He carried him and returned the child's hug.

   "You know, Oncie? One day, you're gonna see that tree when it's big. And when you do, it's gonna take your breath away." The man tickled Once-ler's stomach, making the boy burst a childish laugh. "Besides, I love these Truffula trees so much. Wanna know why?" He looked at his son. The man chuckled as Once-ler hopped in his arms, anticipating for his answer.

   "Coz those trees are just like you; they are precious to me."

---

   Once-ler stood on his balcony. Smoke covered the once blue skies. Sounds of factories tinkering mixed with animals coughing filled his ears. The sky was gloomy like any other days. The clouds were darker, covering the sun from lighting the once happy forest. The air thickened with black gasses, dissolving oxygen from its surrounding.

   The man stood proudly, lips curved into a wide smirk. Sounds of Truffula trees being chopped down were like music to his ears. His blue eyes watched as one of the trees fell to the ground, echoing a loud 'thud' as it crashed.

   Even so, the man merely chuckled like it was an amusing play.

   He turned his heel and faced his office room. Once-ler tugged the collar of his tailcoat as he strode forward. Never did he care for the environment. Never did he care for the trees. Never did he care about the poor souls who lost their home. Never did he care about the Lorax's words.

   Never did he remember the words of his deceased father.

   Once-ler sat on his chair, legs raised until it landed on his desk. His hand taking a cigar and placing it on his mouth, the young man huffed proudly, enjoying his triumphant moment.

   He stared at his large room. With his smile slowly growing wider, he happily thought, Nothing wrong in achieving your dream, right?

END.