Grave

7

I was seven.

The heat and humidity was pulling the sickly cloying smell of blood out of the barn and it was only natural that I was drawn, I guess you could attribute it to a child's morbid curiosity.

Rose was close at my side, shrewd eyes squinting in the daylight. Her fur was a muttle of browns, grays and blacks with patches of white here and there. One could argue she looked strange, but as her friend I thought she was lovely.

The barn was a few miles out from the apartment (thank god for the quiet it provided) and it was one of my constant haunts. Small mice scurried around in the hay and rabbits hopped over the fields that sprawled behind the weather-worn barn, they were easily caught. Easily.

It was intriguing even to my child mind, that with minimal interaction and goading an animal could feel so safe around a human, tall and imposing compared to the docile nature of a common small mammal, it was so ridiculous it could almost be considered comical.

But I would never laugh no, because their trusting nature was no different from my urges, the pushing in my mind to release. I can't deny my nature as they can't theirs, stuck in a duet with an overbearing partner we were. Dancing to a tune heard by all, but only mastered by few. The music was a low hum interrupted by small bouts of scales, jumping octaves and circling phrases, but still there, undertoned and ever present.

My empty gaze must have caught her attention and she nipped at one of my bare feet. I pulled away a fraction before approaching the barn.

The door swung open easily, squealing a bit in halfhearted protest, but it was none too great. I stepped over days old hay and shuffled closer to the back, the smell of iron heavy in the air.

A large cow was strewn over the ground, glassy pale eyes staring at the ceiling above. A calf at her side, scrawny and new born, still as her mother. Sticky blood squished under my bare toes as I tip-toed closer, careful to not disturb the sleep of death.

I crouched, head cocked, and stared.

For hours, looking and analyzing the way the blood flowed. It was mostly dried from the lack of water in the air, but the small pockets that remain branched away and traveled painstakingly slow across the floor. Wide eyed and silent I gaped at the bodies of mother and child, wondering if my mother would be found lying next to me if she didn't survive childbirth. No, in her dying breaths she would have claimed me the child of the devil before floating off to wherever souls like her go.

I stared at the way everything looked so calm and natural, as it was, and how a human could look the same exact way.

Without even realizing it I was cataloguing data and how it could be used for future reference. I was learning to survive with the nature I had been gifted with.

It was only after sundown and Rose had fallen asleep next to me, small rattling breaths, that the barn door creaked.

When the sun had disappeared the light had gone with it and now, a bright flash sent my arms flying to shield my eyes and a small grunt to escape my lips. A gasp was heard from the entranced and I peaked to see Mr.Toma, the owner of the residence, struck with a look of horror.

My arms were drenched in blood, as well as my ratty tank-top and shorts (of course I touched them, how else would I have known what they felt like), crouching over his dead livestock, blocking the light from his flashlight and strange animal lying next to me.

He stepped forward and started to question me," Who are you?"

It was shaky, sort of like he thought I was a wild animal (wouldn't blame him for the mistake, but it was still a little insensitive) and unsure. I had no doubt that he had seen me running around his land, free as a bird and roaming the grounds.

In the shallow light he was cadaverous, the pale glow itching over his tanned skin. His eves were rampant with fear and-

Ah, so that was it. He was just as surprised at this little gift as I was. He must be enraptured by the crimson sloshed carelessly over the ground, the lukewarm bodies and the beauty of the natrallity of the scene.

He must also feel it right to impose, although improper, a sense of humanity upon this, to bury them in the earth so they can nurture the land once again providing for future excitement. The world is so efficient at recycling she is.

Tugging apart his words and body language for what they meant I pointed, hands painted in blood, and grinned.

Rose started to stir out of her sleep so I made sure to quietly expel my next utterances to the man. Even though the syllable came out breathy and with a rasp from disuse I conveyed what I was trying to.

"Grave."

The mans eyes widened and he backed away almost tripping over a sagging bale of hay.

Rose woke up an hour later to find me pondering over his reaction, she scratched at my foot and prompted me to leave, to refresh myself to come back tomorrow.

----------

Mother was out partying late. 

The tub washed away hues of red down the drain as I stood unclothed beneath the torrent of water.

Scarlet.

Maroon.

Carmine.

Vermilion.

All circling the drain, disappearing down to wherever it would call home. The tang of metal hung in the air for several hours after I had cleaned up.

Mother was none the wiser, but commented on an open window.

It made me frown.

I would have to be more careful next time.

-----

The next day I went back to the barn. 

The bodies were gone.

I caught a rabbit, with Rose leaning over my shoulder, and snapped its neck.

It was a satisfying crunch.