Les Oiseaux de Mauvaise Augure

I got home around four o'clock. Work was about thirty minutes away, but therapy was about an hour away, a couple towns over.

I walked zombie-like through the door, dropping my keys onto a table, shrugging off and hanging up my jacket, and turning on all my lights. I sat down on the couch and just stared at the wall for a minute or two, doing nothing. I grabbed my remote and turned on the TV, switching it to some new cartoon. I laid down, curling up and digging my head into a pillow.

My heart felt heavy, and I didn't know why. It felt like it was sagging and cracking. Failing.

It was a weird feeling. Something I'd never really felt before. It most certainly was not a good feeling.

It was kind of like not being inside my own body. I felt no happiness. No sadness. No anger. Nothing but heaviness. It pressed onto my lungs, forcing me to breathe deeply. Each breath meant something different. Breathe in: why is my room so cold? Breathe out: what should I have for dinner? Breathe in: I think I have a crush on Joey. Breathe out: I have to do my laundry.

I watched cartoons mindlessly, not wanting to think too hard. God forbid I, of all people, think too hard. Surely the world would end.

The heavy feeling made me sleepy. The sun started to go down, but I was still bathed in the light from my lamps. I felt half-secure and that was good enough for me. My breathing slowly evened out, and I shut my eyes.

I'll be perfect. I'll be perfect.

I know it.

Make your choice. Don't you dare leave me hanging here. Swimming in smoke and falling faster than ever. How can I be happy? How can I be un-sad? I just don't want to be sad anymore. Or angry. It hurts to be so angry and so sad. It's complicated.

My skin is crawling with anticipation for what is to come. What is and what shall never be.

Just, please, don't leave me here.

Look at the wall on the clock. I mean, the wall on the clock. No, I mean the clock on the wall. Shit, what happened to all that silver and all that gold? Where'd it go? It was taken in by thunder and lightening and rain clouds all swollen-up. Taken back by the world. Taken aback? I am not.

My name is Anna. Not Charity. Not Charity.

You're going down with me, Cupcake. This is the push.

Dying is nasty business. Thank God we only have to do it once. Well, I suppose in my case it will be twice. Oh well. We all can't get what we want. Bitch. Baby. Cupcake. Good girl. Anna.

Why did he call me bumblebee?

"I called you bumblebee because it was fucking cute."

What the hell do you mean it was cute? It wasn't cute.

"Oh, Charity, you're so silly."

Fuck you, Jimmy.

"No, fuck you."

NO, fuck you!

"Fuck you."

Fuck you!

"Fuck you."

Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up!

"How can you ask that of me?"

Why are you here?

"I'm not going away if that's what you're asking."

That's not what I asked. Why are you here?

"Because you wanted me here."

No I did not. Stop lying.

"Silly girl, you're so silly."

Stop it!

"You're feeling secure and you don't like that. You're making up feelings. You're filling in holes. Replacing the emptiness in your mind with men with green eyes and a job that won't help you. You're not going to live this down, Charity."

My name is Anna.

"It is not."

Shut up.

"The crow doesn't look right. He didn't feel right. Don't let those feelings go. They're important. They mean something."

How do you know?

"I don't."

Because you're in my head.

"That's all I am."

Just in my head?

"That's the only way I can exist. In memories. I'm just a dead guy, Charity."

Why you?

"Me? How the fuck should I know?"

So you're just a... you're just a metaphor?

"Ha... yes. I mean... no. I don't know."

That's stupid.

"Tell me about it."

The crow?

"The crow."

He didn't feel right.

"Yup."

...You're right. He didn't feel right at all.

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

Because they both hide secrets.

I breathed in deeply as soon as I opened my eyes. I put a hand to my forehead, just breathing for a moment or two. I sat up, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was a little after seven. I went and put the tea kettle on, and grabbed myself a glass of water. I wandered back over to the couch, plopping down with a huff, and setting my glass down on the small table in front of me.

I rubbed my eyes, grabbing the remote and flipping through channels before finally settling on the news. A woman was in the middle of talking. A mug shot was placed to the right of her head. I put a hand to my mouth and, immediately, tears sprang to my eyes.

"-And, if you see this man, call the police as soon as possible. He was convicted for murder, kidnapping, and robbery. Black hair, green eyes, approximately 5 feet 7 inches tall, nose and lip piercings. Zachery Baker escaped from the California Mental Health Clinic in Southern California this afternoon. Again, black hair, green eyes-"

I ran to the bathroom and threw up.