Les Oiseaux de Mauvaise Augure

I was in my old house. My old kitchen. There was a deck of cards on the counter top, in a sea of wrapping paper and cardboard boxes.

It felt familiar.

I picked up one of the cards. It was a Tarot card. The Lovers.

You couldn't see the Lovers' faces, but they held each other tightly, almost as if they were afraid to let go. I didn't see very much love in their grasp. On the back of the Lovers card were a couple of sentences scribbled down, nearly taking up the entire surface.

"Love," I said as I strained my eyes to read the messy hand writing. "Is like a good memory. When it's there, and you know it's there, but it's just out of your reach, it can be all you think about. You can focus on it and try to force it, but the more you do, the more you seem to push it away.

"But, if you're patient and you hold still... maybe it'll come to you. Stay where he can find you." I looked up from the card, replacing it on top of the deck. "I have to stay? But... I don't want to."

I stared at the card. My eyes watered up. I turned it back over to the front. I couldn't make out the man's face, but suddenly the woman's face was clear. It was me. A couple tears fell, trailing slowly down my cheek. I looked over to my right. He was sitting on a stool at the counter.

"Bumblebee?" he started carefully.

"What?" I asked with a sniffle.

"It's going to be okay."

"Liar."

"You don't have to stay." I shook my head.

"I don't want to stay."

"You don't have to." I gripped the card tighter.

"But... it said-"

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"So... love?" He shrugged.

"It's here. But, you don't have to stay."

"I have to leave love behind?" He shook his head this time.

"You don't have to."

"Tell me what to do!"

"I can't."

"Why not?" I asked stepping towards him.

"Because I just can't."

I looked back at the card, more tears starting to fall. I sniffled. I threw it at the counter. I took a seat next to Jimmy. He suddenly smiled. He punched my arm hard.

"Ow!" I rubbed the spot where he hit me, scoffing and crying.

"Cheer up, bumblebee! It could always be worse." I rolled my eyes.

"You would say that." His face fell.

"Well at least you're not dead, Charity." I didn't say anything, feeling a wave of inexplicable guilt wash over me. I finally cleared my throat.

"Sorry," I mumbled quietly. He smiled again.

"Apology accepted." He punched my arm again. I yelped again, and punched him back just as hard. He laughed. "Smile, bumblebee. You're not dead yet." I frowned deeper.

"That doesn't make me feel better, Jimmy." He rolled his eyes, thinking for a moment. He leaned over me, picking up the card. He pointed at it.

"What if that was your green-eyed boy toy? What if it was him all along? Would that make you feel better?" I bit my lip, and wiped away my tears, sniffling one last time.

"Maybe. Can you see who it is?" He squinted at the card. He shook his head.

"I can't see, either. I guess we're not allowed to know." He took my hand and placed the card in it. He closed my hand around it. "But, you'll find out." He patted my hand as I sighed deeply.

"I want to know."

"I know you do. It'll come to you. Eventually."

"So, if I want to know who he is I have to stay?" He gave me a sympathetic smile, nodding. "But I don't have to stay." He nodded again. "Okay." He let go of my hand.

"Good."

I slowly opened my eyes, and when I realized that I couldn't see anything I shot straight up off the couch. My breathing was heavy and scratchy as I wheezed and hyperventilated. It was pitch black.

It wasn't pitch black when I went to sleep.

There were no thoughts in my head. I was focused on the dark. Trying not to let it swallow me up. The very air I was breathing in was stained black and dirty.

I put my arms out in front of me, waving them around madly, trying to find any lamp. Tears stung my eyes, and I could hear nothing but the blood rushing to my head. My hand finally hit the pole of the lamp, nearly knocking it over. I grabbed onto it firmly with both hands and flicked the switch on. My hands were shaking violently.

The light lit up the corner of the room, and I whipped my head around, nervous of what I would find. I was afraid to explore my apartment. What if there was someone hiding?

I sat down under the light, leaning up against the side of the couch, and curling up. I tried to steady my shaky breathing, but did not succeed. My wheezing was loud and heavy. I held my arms to my chest, closing my eyes.

"Bumblebee, it's okay."

No it's not. No it's not. The lights were off. What if they're here? What if they're here? Why were the lights off? I never turned them off. I didn't turn them off. They were on. The were on before and now they're off. Why were the lights turned off? I'll call the police. That's what I'll do. I have to call the police.

"What if the power went off?"

But I just turned the lights back on.

"Well, obviously. But, lights don't magically turn back on after power-outages. Right?"

I guess. No. No, wait. I should call the police. Just in case. What if they were here?

"If they were here, I'm sure they wouldn't have just left you here."

But-

"But, what?"

I turned my body around, facing the door. I glanced up at the door which was barely alluminated by the dim lamp lighting. The tears that stung my eyes finally fell. My throat felt like it was closing up. My lungs were pressed tightly in my chest.

The locks were all undone.

"But, I locked the door," I whispered. My voice was scratchy. "I know I locked the door."