Raven's Lullabies

Memoirs of the Banquet (FOSRPW II)

Sometimes I imagine myself as someone different; somebody else with the same name, yet different circumstance. My imagination fell upon being Lisa, a petite little girl living in the heart of the city, whose story only revolves about having fights with my best friends, worrying about day-to-day assignments, and laughing off moments that seems to be the hardest parts of a woman in her puberty.

Yet, however I try, there is really no point in what I do; reality snatches me back the second I escape to my own realm, thereby shattering my imaginary world into nothingness. It seemed as if reality had an accomplice; a certain strong, powerful entity that could travel through time, and worlds, only to profess and draw the line by which and who could dream or not. And like those selected few, I am one to stand back and stare at the boundary; to promulgate at the thought that even daydreaming is a luxury I can never afford.

Reality dragged me back to the existing world, like how a bird clipped out of its wings is being held back by the chains tied tightly upon its feet.

Black eyes stared at me. Uneasiness swept through me and I felt afraid. Crows have been ominous enough in the history of mankind, but the meaning becomes so much more when it is exactly the representation of my sister's awakening. For countless of nights, it would suddenly perch on Peter's windowsill and stand still with its eyes boring itself upon us. Then, it would sing its tune, cawing, and with the intention of flying, it would flap its wings. As it departs, my sister wakes up.

I tensed up and turned my gaze to Peter. He looked at me with the same fear. He moved his lips, as if to speak in silence. 'Don't let it notice you staring.' I moved my head down and closed my eyes. Please, I beg hard to the crow. Please, don't wake her up.

The room was still and the quietness was deafening. It swept us for a long time and for a moment; I thought my small, simple prayer would be answered. However, the crow was ruthless. It cawed, and cawed and cawed.

My fears lighted and sparked that I panicked. "No..." I said aloud. "Please, no..."
The cawing became louder and louder that it started to fill my ears. It was horrible that all I wanted to do was cover my ears and beg it to stop. I don't want to be involved with anymore of this... It's scary... and I'm tired... I'm already tired.

All I see in this place is a wilting of a family. My very own family being consumed by them. I just want to give up. They're going to take her away from us and we are dying inside. I'm slowly dying inside.

Why won't we just give up? After all, there's no use. Nothing will change. It will just continue until her garden is consumed. After that, we'll be the next.

"Lisa!" I heard someone call. At first it was faint, as if it was one of those voices. Am I being pulled along in her world? "Lisa," it called again. Now louder and continuous. "Lisa! Lisa! Hey, Lisa! Wake up, Lisa!"

I found Peter calling me. "Lisa, get a hold of yourself!"

"What are you ..." I noticed my hands were pressed upon my ears, and my cheeks were hot. I immediately let go.

At first, I was stunned. But I remembered. Peter used to have this and I always wake him up whenever the crow disappears. He would tremble in place and wallow in anguish. He would speak unthinkable things and just mutter like a mad man; like a person giving all he is on despair and despair alone.

Am I muttering aloud like him? I hope not.

"Keep staring at my eyes," he said. "Don't look away."

"She's awake, is she?" I managed to ask.

"I don't know," he answered. I could feel his fear in his voice. "She never screams out loud, you know that."

She always cries loud, I thought. "Peter, what are you saying?" Somehow I feel agitated. Though I'm afraid, I wanted to turn and look at the room. "Where's the crow?"