bluebird WRATH

Chapter 1 : One O' One

A bird lays still on the branch. Its blue hue is majestic across its delicate feathered beauties as its eyes bring me to an innocent world—a world I've grown to love and understand.

The bright day of the cloudy-blue sky whispers in wind through the forest trees and to the school grounds. It's a wonderful day to get around but instead I'm stuck in BIO 101.

My skin is chilled with my hairs raised and tiny domes emerged from its peaceful slumber. I hate the lab and would prefer rummaging in the brown soil to only dig up and find trinkets for me to discover.

Mr. Wayne continues exaggerating in class about bodily fluids and disgusting yellow-white cells, but I only notice the innocent bluebird breathing still in its safe nest—it looks so comfortable nestled into its tiny wooden home. I wish I could pet the little bluebird, hear it sing tuneful lullabies for me to drift off asleep in this boring class.

But it's not a minute later that I see a black raven. It's approaching without warning as its toxic, black, icky strokes sicken me to my core. It's a ghastly creature made but still, a creature of God yet ravens were the literal gangsters of the hood—they picked on the small and the fragile.

The carnivorous monster approaches the young blue that I'm up to my toes trying to think of a way to warn the blue one to escape, but I can't. I can only foresee the tragedy and devastation when the raven reaches its prey. I can see the bluebird's body on the floor; damaged beyond white lines in a pool of running blood.

The fast Raven is swirling around the tree now. It takes no time to ponder over the huge oak tree before diving into the leaves. It lays still on the branch above the bluebird, stalking the young birdie.

Its malicious eyes point directly at the nest. I'm at the edge of my seat that my feet are tapping in my black sneakers while I pull the sleeves on my sweater high up, hoping that the bird would awake and fly high and away. Alas, the sleeping beauty is unaware of the danger that lies in front of it.

When the raven is ready, it flutters its black wings and leaps onto the thick twisted branch. It curls downwards; ready to knock off the little birdie. It's only a second away from penetrating through its small body until another raven props up to attack its own. The two ravens fight in the bush green of the tree; battling each other and then..."Lex!" Abby calls out.

I turn my head so fast that I almost give myself whiplash. I look at Abby, then back at Mr. Wayne in his bifocals. He's glaring at me, "Would you like an exit pass Ms. Kain?" he asks me dramatically. "I'm sorry, sir..." I try to apologise.

He rolls his small eyes at me before returning to the messy whiteboard. I sigh heavily before I peek to the left at the windows to see the deathly fight, but there is no one left. Not even the bluebird is left to sing in the cool weak wind of late March.

I turn back to Abby in devastation and mouth my appreciation. "Anytime Lexy-poo." she tells me before she continues sketching Mr. Wayne's bulbous nose.

Abigail Jaxone Zachariah. We were first-grade besties that hung out only because we were the lone wolves of our family.

We hated the lonesome air of our homes so much that we decided to hand-cuff each other and drag one another to the end of time. It was a pact we made ever since her parents left her with her aunt. Abby's set of long, black-dyed hair, full eyelashes, high cheekbones topped with her signature red-cherry blossom lipstick attracted many wondrous eyes. She was practically the white badass girl of the school, in short and I was her noble and loyal follower.

She also had a tattoo of a skull with wings outlined on her right upper arm, stating that it was a family mark and not a mistake from a drunk night of partying, which I beg to differ.