How bad could I possibly be?

In a land far away, there once was a beautiful valley. Rivers brimming with humming fish and pure clean water, birds and bears alike feasting off the juicy fruits hanging from the soft, tuft-like leaves of the trees.  

They were content. All were happy to sleep, play and eat. All relished in the soft, sweet grass that grew in this valley, all took pleasure in drinking the cold but delicious water and all delighted in eating the sweetmeat that was the fruit from the Truffula trees.

Everyone was happy.

But as one knows, all good things do not last and soon, even this beautiful valley, brimming with humming fish, clean water, birds and bears filled on fruits from the trees, had conceded to the force of greed.

"I don't want any trouble." Retorted angrily the Once-ler to a small, moustached creature, unseeing the destruction around him. For now.

"Yes, you won't get any trouble. Not from them." The small orange creature sombrely watched the line of birds, bears and even the donkey  that brought this forsaken Armageddon, trudge out of the once valley.  

"This is really your fault. You destroyed everything." He turned to the tall man beside him, the one he once thought friend. The green trench coat that he wore, had there been wind, would have fluttered in the wind but there wasn't even a stirring of anything, not any more. "They have nowhere else to go but out." He told the man who was frowning after the animals. "All because of a 'few trees'."

"Pipsqueak?" the Once-ler called out, unhearing the last sentence of the Lorax, the Guardian of the Trees and with eyes locked on a small bear, stepped forward with a marshmallow in hand. An offering. "Don't you want a marshmallow?"

But the little bear just looked at him sadly and turned away, the smile that had crept onto the Once-ler's face falling.  

"They have to leave Beanpole. Not even your marshmallows could keep them here." The Lorax whispered softly, a light falling upon him as he turned to the sky. The Once-ler spun around only to watch the Lorax be lifted into the air and disappear into the smoggy clouds. Or was it cloudy smog?     

The Once-ler stopped in his tracks and stared. He just stopped, as if there had been be a sudden cold chill and he had been frozen and just stared ahead with mouth wide open and with heart pounding, arms flimsy by his side.

He stared at the barren waste land, black, black darkness in the sky and in the water-could one even call that thick gloop water?  

Suddenly, with knees as weak as noodles and chest as tight as a taunt rubber band, the once-ler found himself breathlessly on his back, staring up at the sky.

Dirty sky. Everything was dirty, because of his greed. Even he was dirtied, not only from the ashes on the ground but on the inside.  

It shouldn't have been a revelation that he did all this. He made a promise and he broke that promise.

He had been blinded by his own greed, and to an extent, his family's, and failed to see the slowly dwindling trees and that his once friends had been hurting.

The Lorax had tried, bless his furry little moustached soul. The Once-ler thought dismally, mind going back to all the times the guardian of the forest had tried to stop him, only for the Once-ler's machines to force him to run for his life.

After minutes that felt like hours, the Once-ler finally managed to get his breathing back and to sit up, blankly staring at the supposed thing in front of him that was once a beautiful, fruitful valley.  

How bad could I possibly be...?