The Call of The Ravens

IV

May 6th, 1986

Last night, after Colette told me about the talking raven, I decided to sleep in the guest room. She was in our bedroom, and I didn't want to upset her.

Now, I awoke from my slumber. The morning rays shone in through the windows. I slipped out of bed, walked out of the guest room and down the hall to Colette's and my bedroom door, and knocked. "Colette," I mumbled, "It's morning. Would you like me to make you breakfast?"

No response.

I knocked with more force, "Colette. Please, I know you miss Lance, but you can't keep going on like this! I can try to help you sort out your emotions. I love you, and I won't judge you for anything."

No response.

Taking a deep breath in, I opened the door a tiny sliver. Then I peeked in. Colette was still in bed with the blanket covering every part of her body. I opened the door more, bit by bit so the door didn't creak. Once it was wide enough for me to slip through, I entered. I walked up to the bed and whispered, "Colette. It's time for breakfast."

No response.

I placed my hand on her shoulder and shook it. But something was wrong. Her shoulder felt like fabric, and it was soft. Soft like cotton. I grabbed the top of the blanket and pulled it over.

And what I saw made my blood run cold.

Colette wasn't actually under the blanket. It was a pillow.

On top of the pillow was a note with red ink scrawled on it. It read:

I'm so sorry, but I have to go for Lance. I need to find out what happened to him.

"Colette," I whispered. I folded the note into neat, little squares, and I tucked it into my pocket. Next, I walked over to my closet, opened it, and took out a thick green jacket and a leather backpack. I put the jacket on and with the backpack in hand. Then I rushed to the kitchen. I shoved a glass bottle and tons of granola bars into the bag. Finally, I ran down the hall and out of my house as I put my backpack on.

I then stood on the porch, the forest standing there in front of me. The sea of trees lurched in the wind. There was a dirt path in front of my house that travelled far into the forest. I took one last deep breath before I stepped off of the porch and onto the path to begin the search.

Before I knew it, I was deep in the forest, and the branches overhead hid the sky. Only splotches of sunlight managed to reach the ground. The sides of the path were littered with scrawny sticks and dead leaves. A few pebbles were here and there. But a tiny rock among the debris caught my attention. It was pure black, and it had cracks all over it. It also had a little spot on top of it.

A small drop of dried blood.

I stepped off of the path. Here, the ground was uneven, and one wrong step would result in a twisted ankle. Moss grew over tree roots and on tree trunks, and some even hung off of branches. Everything was silent. So silent that I glanced over my shoulder every few seconds. So silent that the shadows of the trees seemed to move in the corner of my eye. So silent that I can even hear my heartbeat.

Then a raven squawked. Its caw echoed throughout the forest, ringing in my ears. I quickened my pace. It squawked again, and I started to run. And again and again, it squawked. Yet no matter how fast I went, the squawking never grew quieter.

And then suddenly, the squawking stopped. I stopped running. My entire body quivered, and I tasted blood in my mouth. I could barely stand up any longer. Then a raven flew over me and landed on a branch. Its feathers remained still, even in the wind. And its eyes stared. Not at me, but to something on the ground beside me.

It was a hand.

And that hand was connected to a body. That body was laid on the ground, its arms outstretched and its legs crossed. Its green eyes were open wide, yet a grayish fog seemed to cover them.

It was Colette.

I screamed and backed off.

That's when I stepped on something. It was a piece of paper ripped out of a notebook. I glanced at it. There were words on it scrawled in red ink.

IF YOU SEE ANYTHING, REMEMBER IT'S NOT ME.

I SHOULD'VE LET GO.

I looked back up. The raven was now glaring at me. The tip of its beak was stained red.

"What did you do!?" I stood back up. The raven only blinked in response.

Then there was a rustling noise. I thought it was the wind making the leaves littered all over the ground swirl. But when I looked behind me, the leaves were still on the ground. It wasn't the wind.

It was the noise of people whispering.

I fell to the ground. There were a lot of people whispering. Some with soft, high-pitched voices and others with low, coarse ones. A few spoke in foreign languages. Yet, there was not a single word I could recognize. Their voices slowly mixed and became one. I covered my ears with my hands and squeezed my eyes closed. The raven hopped off of the branch and soared towards me.

Then someone put their hand on my shoulder. My eyes shot open, and I looked over my shoulder. But no one was there.

"Get out!" someone yelled, "Please! Let me go!" The voice was high-pitched.

"C-Colette?" I barely managed.

"Get out, now!"

The raven landed in front of me. I scrambled to my feet, and I dashed off. The raven squawked once more, shaking the trees. But this time, the further I ran, the quieter its squawk became. My legs burned, my back ached, and my arms were numb. But I didn't stop until I got back to the path and back to my home.

Once I stepped foot into my house, the raven was still there. Sitting on the window sill. Waiting.