The Demons Inside

The White Feathered Raven

Minds are important.

Intentions as well.

But who'd give a damn?

Looks are all that sell.

✝

Tuesday.

December 31st, 2013.

10:44.

✝

Yesterday I walked a lot. It was quite a pleasant trip, down the stairs and into the store, then back out and up again.

In the streets I saw something strange, it was a nice little bird, with feathers as pale as snow. The sunlight reflected off its body, as if an armor of white had been placed atop its figure, but its eyes were red, searching like any other scavenger's would.

At first I thought it was a dove, its beauty compelled me, and there was anything I'd do to keep staring at it a few seconds longer. So I mustered up enough courage to walk up the creature, and ended up being bitten and left behind in a flurry of feathers.

I guess it was scared too,

But a tired sigh was all I gave,

For there was nothing I could do,

And soon it would go to its grave.

The city was crowded today, no one seemed to fancy a day inside a house when light was so prominent.

But I found myself thinking about the little dove.

The steps to my house looked lonely, so I sat on them, and enjoyed my breakfast here instead of there. The cinnamon scone tasted brilliantly, and as I tried to figure out what kind of enchantment had been set to it so it would be so wonderful, a nice little bird approached me.

It was the ruby eyed dove, waiting for me to present it with a crumb, so I smiled, and held my hand open, revealing a small piece of scone.

The bird floated down graciously, settled on my hand, and took the food without a second of hesitation.

Then it violently snatched what was left of my meal, scratching my palm until it released the scone and bled. Then the bird flew away, without a thank you, nor even a sign of acknowledgement.

"You aren't a dove,

You're a raven that's using a little dove's clothing. Aren't you?"

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆

Later on, about a year or two after the incident, I found feathers lining my window, white ones.

So I opened it, and there it was, the white feathered raven.

"What a pity.

You know," I smiled sadly at it. My anger towards it long since evaporated.

"Your life's too big of a payment for a little scone."

✝

Archelien.