Kaazul Work: Poems/Scripts/Short Stories

And the Birds Began to Sing

Silvery flakes drifted downward, glittering in the bright light of the harvest moon. The blackbird screamed. Another scream was heard through the crackling, except this wasn't from a bird.

The source couldn't be placed through the thick cloud of smog that settled over the surrounding area. The altered sounds of pained cries were heard and slowly diminished to the blackbirds' calls. The flames licked at their talons as they darted to a safer distance away. Their wings had saved them, where as the unfortunate people of the town were consumed by the raging flames... as if their town was being devoured by hell itself.

In the heart of the city, soft wails cried through the roar of the heat. A petite girl's pale skin, once soft and smooth, was now stained dusty gray with ash. It was hard to distinguish if she was crying from the smoke or the loss of her family. Her mother's locket hung loosely from her neck, opened to reveal the picture of her mother. The glass protecting the image reflected the flames that towered around her. The reflection reminded the girl of the sealed fate her mother had been given. An all too-real reminder settled over her mind. Reinforced with the horrid scent of the burning flesh from nearby townspeople, she stumbled forward. The birds' caws are heard farther out as they drifted with the flames. She followed the birds like a trail, the noise taking her closer to a field of wheat.

The field was golden and dried, as it was finally time for a harvest. Hope gleamed in her eyes brightly, much like the fire she'd just escaped. To her dismay, the moment of peace wasn't permanent. The wind began to pick up, taking embers along with them, the dried wheat easily taking to the fiery embers. The golden kernels now began to bleed a vibrant red. The flames had caught her once again. This time there was no escaping.

Her lungs now filled with the ash and smoke from before, but the amount was too overwhelming to handle. She collapsed between the stocks, attempting to force herself forward. All the strength she had left wasn't enough. Falling back to her knees, she clutched the pendent tightly. Crying out for her mother, she wished her sweet dreams as the flames finally consumed her.

The last things she saw was the light of the harvest moon high above the sky, the pale orangey rays gently kissing her white skin.

The last thing she heard was the piercing cries of the blackbirds circling above her.

Future onlookers now only came upon the charred aftermath: a small, blackened skeleton covered in the silvery flakes of ash. Never to think, speak, or hope again.