A Murder Of Crows

Chapter 2

As Crow sat down to eat the maid walked over and began to get on him for his hair, it was messy.
"C'mon Crow! It's not that hard to keep your hair nice." She said, annoyed. Crow huffed, he had never really understood why he had to style his hair. He brushed it, and once that was done he let his hair style itself. But it was a sepcial event, so he went upstairs to style it. He huffed as he looked in the bathroom mirror, muttering to himself.
"Crow! C'mon, we're gonna be late!" Crow's father yelled, Crow rushed down the steps quick as daylight. But as their father opened the door. A horrid surpise awaited them.

"WHAT KIND OF SICK BASTARD WOULD DO THIS!?" His father yelled holding Crow close by his side. Crow was in shambles, sobbing so hard he gagged and hacked. On the other side of the door, in the open daylight of the porch was Dazy's dead body. His hair ruffled and messy stained with blood, his shirt torn and tathered blood stained it too, and his legs, gashed and wounded. An open whole in his chest indicated his heart had been torn out, the same way Crow's was as he heard the news, and now, as he saw the lifeless corpse of his once lover. A note attatched to the side of his wounded face. One eye gauged, and inside a gory stew. Crow kept crying in both terror and sadness. Crow's father picked up the note and read it quick. He dropped the note and told Crow to go to his mother's grave alone. He'd meet him there. Crow nodded but once the door closed and the phone rung as a call was made inside. Crow picked up the note.
"A remindar of what you did."
Crow was confused. He put the note down. "Probably just some sick pranksters. Like dad said, bastards." Crow thought to himself, as he ran out passed the body and to the graveyard.

The run wasn't far, but even so, Crow raced like a monster was chasing him, threatning to take his life. He wanted to get there before the bell chimmed. He ran fast and hard, faster then anything he had ever done. He had never been late to this, and today wouldn't be the start. He ran and slid hard into the graveyard door just as the bell chimmed. He was on time. Crow slowed his pace and rested his aching legs, before walking over to his mom's gravesite. His hair was a bit deshelved, his breathing ragged. The gravesite was monotoned, with only a hint of purple, like the purple that tinted the black of Crow's hair. He thought back to the many times his mother told him how he recieved his name. A crow had landed by the entrance as they left, Crow in hands. Crow smiled at the memory. Then frowned. He lost so many years with his mother, from his own foolish mistake. He pushed the thought away, and stood walking to the tombstone that held his mother as a captive to its own mucky walls. He sat down.
"I'm not late..." He said chuckling, "but I did run, I know you said... before you died... not to rush, but I was worried." Crow finished, talking to the grave. He sighed.
"Dad's not here, he has something to deal with." He finished, he would have said a prayer, but he was an aithest. Even more so after the death of his mother. He stood upon the grave then realized, he hadn't brough flowers! He rushed looking around for any flowers he could add to the almost shrine like tomb. The pretty flowers sucked up the sorrows like a sponge in water, it's why he always added more. He gently picked a rose from nearbye, draining the graveyard the last of its color, and set it on the tomb, saying one last goodbye, before leaving.
As he arrived home, it wasn't his father who greeted him, not even Morcia, what greeted him was so bad, that Morcia would have been better. No, it was the police who greeted him. Crow was confused as he was escorted from the premisis and walked to a dectivive, Crow looked at the male who questioned him. He was tall maybe 6'1, and had a trench coat with a black hat. The rest was obscured by his sunglasses and the sun that blared into Crow's eyes.
"Crow Hawkworths, right?" The dectivive asked. Crow nodded.
"Eh, alright kid. I'll keep it short. Where you were?"
"The graveyard." Crow responded. The dectivive nodded.
"Alright, camera's will prove if your innocent. Not sayin' you're guilty, kid, but with your history of hatred to your step-mother, and," The dectivive thought for a moment, "recent inciedints, we just gotta ask."
Crow cocked his head to the side, and the decitive quickly realized that Crow had no clue what happened.
"Your alibi and your fathers words are exactly the same. So either way if you're tellin' the truth, you don't need to worry. But your step-mother was found dead. In her bedroom." The dectivive explained.
Crow was appauled, while part of him was enjoying the victory, he death ridding himself of that bitch, the other side felt pity. She had her whole life ahead. A police officer returned told the dectivive he saw Crow at the graveyard visiting his mother's tomb during the time of the murder, clearing his name. But his father? He had a story, but no evidence to back it up. If it wasn't for Crow living there, he'd have been arrested for suspicioun. The dectivive explained to Crow and his father, that it seemed whoever was doing this, was targetting both people the Hawkworths knew, and the Hawkworths themselves.