Born To Write

The wind blew and the leaves swirled across the ground. The dust devils picked up loose paper as if they wanted to big brothers that tore apart people’s lives. I stood watching the events before me with wonder as if I was seeing the destruction of a small town, my town not many months earlier.

I could feel the wind build up and became afraid. I rembered being in our small home on that day when I lost my parents and the birds went quite. It felt as though the birds were suspicious once again. I knew I needed to get home before the worst came, but our home was now a hotel room without a basement.

I ran as fast as my legs would take me. When I arrived at the hotel I banged on the door, but no one opened it up. I looked up and saw the birds circling as if they were waiting for the leftovers of roadkill on the highway. I banged once more and I heard mumbling from inside the room.

Since the event, as my parents had called it, things had changed. The few drinks that my parents use to drink began to turn into nights of fights and watching them pass out. I had become the adult trying to keep things together, but I was failing.

I banged once more and heard screams coming down from above. The birds were in a frenzy as the sky grew dark nd that is when I heard the loud bang from inside the room followed by another bang. I stood shocked not sure what to do, and then the door slowly opened up as if it had never been locked.

The birds became quite and as I appeared through the crack to see both of my parents laying down on the floor laying in a pool of blood holding onto each other. I walked out stunned and saw all the birds waiting on the railing as if expecting they were just in time for dinner…their suspicions were right.