Crow--Arianna

I lay here, on the mushy overgrown grass, staring at the boundless sky wondering, “What else?” It’s the same sky I’ve seen everyday for the past 17 years I’ve lived on this earth, except this time with noticeably more clouds. The leftover wind from last night’s rainstorm decides to make itself known with a gentle breeze that grazes my skin as I search for the rest of the universe hidden behind the clouds. Often times, I visit this empty field to vainly look for an answer to my life. “What’s my purpose?”, I think. This question seems to be of the utmost importance seeing that by this following year, I should already have the blueprint of the rest of my life prepared. I stare at a flock of birds flying towards the mountains, and I can’t help but feel envious. They live simply by instinct. They have no preconceived notions to live by nor do they have any external pressures guiding them towards a certain path. They’re just birds. But unlike them, I’m not just a person. I’m what my parents want me to be, what my teachers expect of me, and what society anticipates from me. I am one of billions of bodies that occupy this planet with a seemingly endless amount of options on how to live my life, but really only having a certain fraction of them attainable. After my mind falls into an existential rabbithole, I hear in the distance... ​Boom Boom.​ Thunder. I appear to have fallen so lost in thought that I failed to notice the growing cold and looming darkness that enveloped my surroundings; I guess I’ve invaded the hospitality of this field and overstayed my welcome. I quickly gather my things and head towards the single

direction of home. As I make my way across the freshly dampened mud, I pass the towering guarding trees that omit any remnants of sunlight left from the day. The claps of thunder don’t hold back and threaten me to a faster pace while the winds strengthen, and my nose feels the biting cold. By now, I’m running home. My breathing gets heavier, and I begin to pant. As the adrenaline starts to surge, I notice something off and pause to take a look around. I find myself next to the same trees that lined the perimeter of the field. “I thought I passed you”, I say in my head. I glance ahead and realize that I’m only a couple steps away from the opposite part of the field which I had exited through. “There’s no way this could’ve happened since I never made any turns...”, I think to myself. Maybe I wasn’t paying attention? Or I actually mis-stepped? None of my made up excuses make sense, but I give myself the benefit of the doubt. I again set forth in the same direction that leads home, this time being conscious of where I’m going. Once I reach the other side of the field, the rain picks up, and I re-meet the trees that appear to taunt me. However, I can’t help but feel watched. I examine the branches and come to discern a large crow that has taken shelter under the dense leaves, leaving me with a great sense of apprehension. By now, the thunder is sporadically clapping, reminding me that I NEED to get home. Drenched, I focus myself through the familiar route I had taken earlier, but this time I succeed. I reach my doorstep, leaving a trail of muddy footprints behind me, and attempt to unlock the door. Already feeling queasy, I pull out the key from my soaking bag and enter it into the keyhole, but the key doesn’t turn. I check to see if it’s the right key, which it is, and jam it in again. Nothing. Before I know it, tears of frustration and worry have streaked my face. My only other roommate, my mother, is working late tonight. All of a sudden, I hear a car pull in. I wonder if my mom got off early, but as I turn my head, no one’s there. I glimpse around, but only to see everything

completely still as it was when I arrived. Convinced I’ve lost my mind, I hopelessly try the key again. ​Click.​ I emphatically push the door open and step inside. A quick wave of relief falls across me as I secure my body behind these walls. I turn on the flickering lights and find comfort in seeing all my homely possessions perfectly situated like they always are. After taking off my sodden shoes, I make my way to the dimly lit kitchen for a glass of water. As I refresh myself with a sip, all I can think about is what the hell’s going on. I’m too exhausted to logically find an explanation for all the ill-boding occurrences, so I decide it’s best to rest my body first. Before welcoming a well-needed sleep, I direct myself to the bathroom to clean up my disheveled grimy self. When light catches the room, I see someone in the mirror, but I don’t see myself. I immediately close my eyes in hopes that my hallucination will end. When I reopen them, I’m no longer in my bathroom. I’m highly elevated, looking at my person standing at the edge of the field, while raindrops hit my feathers.