by Miranda Kavi
“Screw you. They’re the best people in the world.” She walked away without another glance in his direction.
“Wait!” he called from behind. In a few long strides, he caught up to her, using his hand to stop her from moving forward. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sure they’re wonderful.”
She stopped moving, trying to ignore the influx of pleasant heat that came along with his touch.
“This,” — he gestured at the birds in the trees above them — “is going to get worse. Stay strong. I’ll be ready when you are.” He dropped her arm and walked away from her, back to the direction of the school.
“What does that mean? I don’t understand!” she called to his receding back. She dared another look up at the trees. They were still filled with black birds. Mothers, fathers and children milled around in their front lawns, pointing at the sky, taking pictures.
She kept walking until she came to her house. Her mom stood in the yard, apron on, eyes glued to the trees. Her dad came out behind her, resting an arm on his much shorter wife.
“Ce Ce!” he said when he saw her.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Are you seeing this? This is some crazy stuff, right?”
Black birds clung like ice to every possible surface; branches of trees, eaves of houses, gutters, and even the cars.
“Weird,” she agreed, without meeting his eyes.
“Do you see the weirdest part? They end at our house. See? They aren’t any further down on this side, but on this side,” — he pointed down the road towards the school — “they go on and on. Did you see them walking home from school?” He raised his voice so she could hear him over the birds.
She walked to the edge of her lawn. Sure enough, there weren’t any birds to be seen off to the right, but to the left, in the direction of her school, they were everywhere. Starting at the school, ending at her home. They’re here for me.
The truth echoed in her head like a ricocheting bullet. This is all because of me.
She dropped her backpack on the ground, moving to the other side of the block.
Her father came to her side. He laid a hand on her shoulder. “Where you going, Ce Ce?”
She turned to face him, the man she trusted, her safety. “To see if the birds are on the next street.” She pointed to the next block.
He watched her, eyes flickering as he processed her words. “Okay,” he finally said in a measured voice. “I’ll come with you.”
“What is going on over there?” Her mom’s voice floated from the porch where she still stood.
Her dad answered his wife, though his eyes never left Celeste’s face. “We’ll be right back, sweetie. We’re gonna go check out these birds.”
“Not without me you won’t.” She untied her apron and threw it through the front door. “Celeste, take your backpack inside or put it back on, but don’t leave that in the yard. That thing cost sixty bucks.”
Celeste picked up the backpack and re-shouldered it. “Let’s go.”
She chose the street behind her house. Her father put his arm around her shoulder and they walked together, her mom trailing not far behind.
The birds flitted in the trees above them as she rounded the corner to the next street. She forced her feet to move, one after another. She stared at her shoes until she was sure they were at least halfway down the next block over.
Finally, she looked up. The trees were empty. Well, not empty, but full of normal tree things: leaves, flowers, bees.
Her dad’s arm slipped off her shoulder. “See, baby. All okay? What did you think this was?”
She smiled up at him. She couldn’t help it. “I don’t know.”
She continued her walk down the street. Even though it was too bright outside for her taste, it was bird-free.
Her mom nudged her. “No, really. What were you so worried about?”
“I don’t know. I thought maybe the birds were only where I was. It’s stupid, I know.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “Oh, the nightmare with a giant bird. No wonder you freaked out. My poor baby girl.”
Her dad raised a brow, but said nothing.
“It’s probably just a weird Kansas bird thing we haven’t seen before,” her mom said.
“No.” Celeste shook her head. “Why are all the neighbors outside taking pictures? And everyone at my school was shocked.”
“It’s fine now. Come on home,” her dad said.
Walking between her parents, she allowed herself to relax, at least a little.
It was the noise she heard first. Screams and squawks overpowering all other sounds. Then the broad daylight blackened to night.
“What the…” her dad started.
The black birds were everywhere. They flew over the line of houses and swarmed the air, filling the sky with their black wings.
Her dad pushed Celeste and his wife behind him. The birds screamed, cried and began swirling in a vortex around them. Feathers, mites, and a wild smell filled the air. Celeste’s head pounded in nauseating pain. Her legs gave out. She dropped to her knees, gripped her head between her hands and screamed.
“Run!” her father shouted.
Her mom pulled Celeste to her feet and through the swarm of birds. They flew into her hair, her hip, and tangled in her mom’s braids, but they kept running. Her father ran behind them, swatting the bigger ones away when they got too close.
They made it home. Her father leaned against the door after it was shut, breathing heavily. “What in God’s name was that?” He locked the door then walked to the front window. “Holy moley.”
She stood beside him. Most of the birds had congregated in their yard. It looked like someone had thrown a giant vat of ink on their house.
The phone rang, and all three of them jumped.
Her dad answered the phone. “Yes?” He paused. “Roger, thanks for checking in. We made it back to the house okay.” He paused again, nodding as he listened. “I don’t know. But they seem to be interested in us.” He glanced up at Celeste. “We’ll stay in, thanks for calling them, bud.” He hung up. “Roger from across the street. Saw them swarm us. He called animal control, though they have no idea what to do. He wanted to make sure you girls were okay.”
“That’s nice,” her mom mumbled.
Silence fell upon them. When they stopped talking, other sounds penetrated the home; scratching noises, flapping noises, bird noises.
Her mom cleared her throat. “We’re covered with grime, and we’re in shock. Celeste, let’s shower and get on some clean clothes and start dinner. Your daddy will talk to animal control and find out what’s going on.”
Her dad nodded. “That’s right, baby. It’s all good. I’ll take care of it.” He smiled, but his face was gray as he picked up the phone to make his calls.
. . .
Celeste stood at her window while she made her usual fruitless attempt to wrangle her wild tangle of wet hair. She bunched it in her left hand, and used the right to comb out the ends. While she worked, she watched the crows outside her window.
City workers in orange jumpsuits lumbered around her yard. They took pictures and used nets to capture a few birds, but it was as fruitless as using a towel to absorb the ocean.
Why is this happening to me? Who am I?
She’d always been the odd-ball, the “new” girl in town. She’d learned not to care, at least not too much, about what her classmates thought about her.
But this was different. She was beyond odd. She’d lost consciousness at school, attracted crows in flocks, and made some weird connection with Rylan. She hoped her classmates hadn’t made the connection between her and the birds, but if they hadn’t, they would soon.
A light tap on her door. “Ce Ce.”
“Come in.”
She turned away from the window and watched her dad swing the door open.
“Dinner. Come on.”
“Okay, coming.” She smiled, and waited for him to leave.
He did
n’t. He paused, one hand holding the door open. “You look so pretty without your contacts. You should let your natural beauty show.”
“It freaks people out.” She put her comb on the vanity, catching a glimpse of her violet eyes and red hair combo in the mirror.
“They’re just jealous.”
“Thanks, Dad.” She followed him into the dining room.
Her mom had set the table, complete with a spicy casserole. She was seated at her usual spot at the head of the table. Celeste and her dad sat on either side.
Celeste scooped herself a large serving of the spicy, meaty, dish and ate in small bites. She wasn’t really hungry, but she didn’t want to worry her parents any more than they already were.
Her parents looked at each other, then at her. They didn’t eat.
Celeste put her fork down. “Okay, what?”
Her mom slid her hand near Celeste’s on the table. “Honey, I…we, I mean, are concerned about you.”
“Meaning?”
“We’ve dragged you around the country, which wasn’t fair to you. You have bad nightmares and no stable friends. Since we’ve been here, you’ve passed out for no discernable reason, heard voices outside in the middle of the night, and you know, other strange things have happened,” her mom said.
“By other strange things, do you mean the crows outside? I don’t see how that’s my fault,” Celeste said.
“Your mother is not saying that it’s your fault. There’s just a lot of strangeness around you, and we’re not sure what we need to do to protect you. So, we think you should talk to an expert.”
“You mean a shrink? You want me to see a shrink?”
Her mom cleared her throat. “Not necessarily a shrink, a counselor. Your school has one on staff. I’ve heard she’s very good.”
Celeste slumped into her chair. “I don’t need a counselor. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“And no one is saying you have. It’s a good idea to talk to someone with all this weirdness going on. We’ve already been to a medical doctor, and you are perfectly fit. So let’s get the rest checked out. What’s wrong with that?”
“Fine. Whatever.” She shoved a few more spoonfuls of casserole in her mouth. Her stomach twisted, and before she knew it, she ran for the bathroom. She lost her meal over the toilet.
The door creaked behind her, and her mom’s cool hand was on her forehead. “Oh, baby. You okay?” She pulled Celeste’s hair off her face and tied it behind her head. “Let’s get you to bed. Can you walk?”
“I actually feel great, now that I’ve puked.”
Her mom followed her into her bedroom and helped her into bed. “How about some crackers?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine, Mom.”
“Call out if you need me,” she said. “I love you, dear.”
“Love you too. Goodnight.”
Her mom paused at the door. “I’m going to leave a message with the school for an appointment. Please, just go.”
“Fine.” Celeste rolled away from her mom.
A few seconds later, the door closed.
. . .
She woke. According to the bright blue digits on her alarm clock, it was 3:23 a.m.
“Ruuuaa!”
She sat up straight in bed. “Hello?”
“Oscail an doras,” the voice said.
She closed her eyes, plugged her ears, and let the thick, red curtain of her hair fall around her face. “It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real.” She waited twenty seconds, then opened her eyes and took her fingers out of her ears.
“We are real. You are real,” the voice said into her right ear. Celeste followed the voice. She saw it; a shadow in the shape of a human, an unsubstantial, black shape. It was tall, bent over to whisper in her ear.
Sweat rolled down her face. She opened her mouth to scream, but it didn’t work. It was like one of those nightmares where you couldn’t run or scream for help, except this was really happening to her.
She bolted out of the left side of her bed, away from the shadow.
More shadows formed, in front of her, on her left, and even splayed across the floor. They were tall and long like the first. Their faces were obscured by darkness, their clothes strange and misty. But they were there, and they were moving in.
She backed away until she ran into the desk behind her. She groped the desk in vain, almost shouting in relief when her hands wrapped around a lamp. She raised it above her head. Two shadows grabbed her feet and pulled her down, trying to force her into the floor. She screamed and threw the lamp down on the floor with all her force.
CHAPTER 6
Celeste picked at the red upholstery of the dish-shaped chair she sat on. To her, it looked like a giant, red mushroom.
“Celeste?” Dr Ramone asked. “Did you hear my question?”
Celeste glanced back up at the school counselor. She didn’t look like a shrink. She was tall and curvy with short platinum-blond curls tied up in a bandana, ripped jeans, and a vintage t-shirt.
“No.” She returned her gaze to her lap.
“This is the easy part. I want to know why you are here. Your mom was pretty freaked out when she called.”
“What did she say?”
“She said she found you last night standing next to a shattered lamp screaming at the top of your lungs.”
“Oh.” Celeste pulled her blue sweater tighter around her.
“Are you having nightmares?” Dr. Ramone asked.
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“Yes. Tell me about yours.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Celeste said.
“Why? Do they scare you?”
“Yes, that’s why they’re called nightmares.” Celeste didn’t mean to sound so snappy, but this was going nowhere fast.
“What are you afraid of?” Dr. Ramone asked
Celeste looked at her again. She truly wanted to tell her everything, but she was afraid she’d end up in a padded cell or on heavy medication, not that either one of those things sounded too bad right now.
Dr. Ramone watched her with piercing, hazel eyes. Something was not quite right about her strange eyes. A light flashed in her retina, like someone taking a picture from the inside of her head.
Celeste flinched deeper into her chair, pushing it back with her legs until the back of her seat hit the wall.
Dr. Ramone blinked rapidly then leaned forward to lay an arm on Celeste. “What’s wrong?”
Celeste yanked her arm back.
“Okay, okay. Calm down.” Dr. Ramone put her notebook down and scooted her chair a little further back. “You have to trust someone, Celeste. Yes, I’m different. You’re different. It’s not me you need to fear.”
Celeste shrunk back into her chair. This woman, this thing, admitted something was off, and it scared her.
The bell rang. Dr. Ramone tilted her head to the side as it did.
Celeste stood up and grabbed her backpack.
“Wait, please,” Dr. Ramone said.
Celeste paused at the door.
She pulled out a business card. “I know what’s happening to you. You’re not crazy, Celeste. The dreams and visions are trying to tell you what you are. There will be a moment soon when you need help. When that moment comes, call me. My cell is on the back.”
If she took the card, it’d be an admission that she heard and saw things like a crazy person. If she didn’t, she could walk away and pretend she was normal.
“You can’t pretend you’re normal anymore,” Dr. Ramone said.
I didn’t say that out loud. Celeste hands flew up to cover her face. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. She can hear my thoughts.
“Not all of them. Take the card. I mean you no harm.”
Celeste found her strength. She took two tentative steps forward and snatched the card out of Dr. Ramone’s hand. Then she fled the room without looking back.
She ran into the nearest bathroom and faced herself in the mirror. Her eyes were dee
p brown today with her contacts in, but the whites zigzagged with red from her lack of sleep. Her skin was flushed, and her hair formed its usual crazy halo around her head.
She pulled her hair back, using its length to tie a loose knot behind her head. She splashed her face with water over and over again. The cool water hitting her face soothed her nerves.
Pull it together. You’re in public. You’re fine. You can handle this. You can handle anything.
She toweled off her face, let her hair back down, then walked to the school office.
The woman at the front was heavyset with short grandma-style hair. “Yes?” she said sternly to Celeste when she walked in.
“Um, yes. I ran late with the counselor, so can I get a note to get into my next class? Please?”
Her grimace melted into a sympathetic smile. “Of course, dear. I’ll write that out for you.” She pulled out a small notepad.
“So, um, Dr. Ramone is really great. How long has she worked at the school?” Celeste asked.
“Well, dear. She doesn’t work here. Our regular counselor is out on maternity leave, so we bring people in here under contract to fill in as needed. Dr. Ramone just happened to check in with us this week to see if we had any patients.”
“Oh, what a nice coincidence,” she managed to say, even though it felt like her mouth had just filled up with sand.
The woman held up the note. “Here you go.” She looked up at Celeste. “Are you okay, dear? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine.” She took the note and walked to her next class. All the other kids had just eaten lunch, so they still buzzed in their chairs with energy.
The teacher paused mid-lecture when she came in. Eighteen pairs of eyes came to rest on her. She ignored them and handed her note to the teacher.
He skimmed it before folding it and putting it in his pocket. “Have a seat.”
She took her habitual spot in front of Tink.
“Where have you been all day?” He scooted his desk closer. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You look weird. What’s going on?” he said.
“I’ll explain later.”
“Yes, you will.”
She rolled her eyes, then pulled out a notebook and prepared to listen to the lecture. Instead, she filled her page with doodles of birds, eyes, and shadows.
