Point of view of a tree

I feel alone. I am alone. Noone is around, to be seen or even heard. I can feel the wind against me, feel it lingering in my hair, playing with it. Everyone else has died. Murdered or died of natural causes.
Sometimes it feels like I will die too, out of loneliness. So far noone has come to murder me. I am greatful but at the same time I’m devastated, because I am alone and I don’t know how much longer I can stand being alone.
When the wind is really strong, it feels like I’m gonna fall, and noone will be there to catch me or see me fall. I don’t know what I’ve been doing wrong or even if I have been doing something wrong.
I’ve been living here for over one hundred years, always together with company, in the beginning we were very small and green about everything. Every little wind made us shiver and almost fall down. We were tiny and thin back then.
The years flew by and we stood together through thick and thin. Most of us made it through storms, fires and even wars. But now ... now that company is gone. I wish I was gone as well. Noone will hear me scream. Noone is around for miles. Nothing but me, the grass and the wind, rain and sun.
I wonder what will happen now. What will happen to me. To this land. I’ve seen people come and build things, tear them down to start all over again. They never notice me. They know I’m there but they never take any notice of me, so I’m left on my own. They leave me be. They’ve murdered my brothers and sisters, those that were still alive, and now they ignore me. They could’ve just murdered me too. I feel no desire to go on living.
They say that the strongest tree in the forest stands alone, that is not true. At least not in my case since I am the last tree of this forest. I am the last of my kin.