Birb's Blurbs

"I... should probably get home and wait for the store to actually be open." Matt decided, picking his bike back up.

He’s sitting on a couch in a tiny living room. His thick, scarred arm is around a small woman with brown hair. He rests his crooked chin on the top of her head, and she giggles. She’s drawing a picture. There’s a content smile on his face.

He’s by a stove, cooking something. She’s sweeping the floor. He leaves to get something, and she stirs whatever he was cooking. He returns, and sets the table. They sit down and eat together.

“Thanks for making dinner.” She says, in a low, soft voice. He smiles quietly, awkwardly with his deformed jaw. The room is near silent for a few moments.

“Tha-angs fo’ he-el-ping.” He mumbles, thankfully.

“Anytime.” There’s a dusting of pink on the tips of her ears.

She’s washing the dishes now. She makes a mark on a piece of paper, and stands back to admire her work. The kitchen is clean. There’s a thumping, cracking sound outside as her husband chops firewood. She steps outside to see him stacking the broken logs in a woodshed.

“I’m going to town.” She tells him.

He nods.

She plants a kiss on his cheek, and walks into the woods. He smiles softly, in the quiet left behind.

They’re shouting. Or, more she’s shouting, and he’s gesturing aggressively. She runs out of the house, slamming the door. It’s dark. He waits in the house for several moments, takes a slow breath, and walks outside. He picks up his axe, and begins to chop wood again. He swings hard, the axe bites into the log beneath the one he’s chopping. After a few strokes, he heaves a heavy breath. He places another log, and swings more evenly. More precise. After half an hour, he brings the logs to the shed, and stacks them. He walks back inside. He sweeps the floor. There are shards of broken ceramic, from several dishes, under the broken bottom shelf of a cabinet.

Shouldn’t she have been back by now?

He worries. He boils some water in a kettle on the stove. He takes it off the heat, and pours it into a pitcher, scooping tea leaves into it. He goes back outside, sitting on the steps that lead up to the porch. He gazes into the woods.

She’ll come back. He tells himself. She always has before.

A drop of rain falls, and lands on his arm. He looks at the sky. It’s raining lightly. He watches the woods again. It’s been two hours now. The rain begins to fall more steadily. He sighs, walking back inside, and grabbing a thick jacket. He walks out into the rain, into the woods, knowing exactly where to go. Wet leaves and soil stick to his boots, as the tramps through the shrubs and trees.

He finds her sitting in a large tree, One leg propped on the branch she sits on, and the other dangling. Her back is pressed to the trunk. Her arms are crossed, half hugging herself, as she stares into space. Her clothes are damp with rain, hair stringy and dripping. He pauses under the tree.

“E-emjoy-ying the wrain?” He prompts, and she looks down at him, startled out of her thoughts, and pauses to gather them.

“...Yeah.” A pause. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.” She says.

I know you didn’t mean it. He thinks. “S’okie.”

“A-and I just ran out like that!” She giggles, pained and bitter, covering her face with her hands.

You needed space. You had a bad day, you don’t need to be perfectly collected all the time. You can have time for yourself. He thinks.

“S’okie.” he repeats.

“...I’m sorry I broke the shelf...” Her voice still muffled by her hands.

You just set a plate down, that thing broke itself, Dummy.

“S’okie.”

“How is everything just… ‘Okay’ to you?” she sighs. “I was being a jerk, and you shouldn’t have to deal with any of that, y’know? It’s not okay that I yelled at you. And then I just left! I didn’t say anything, I should’ve… apologized first, at least, I stressed you out, and probably worried you, how long has it been, hours?!” A tear rolls down her cheek. It could almost be mistaken for a drop of rain. “I should’ve had more common sense.” She plops her face into her knees. Instead of answering immediately, he climbs up to sit on a branch near her. He takes off his jacket, and drapes it over her soaked shoulders, then takes one of her hands in his, tracing circles over her knuckles, looking for words.

"Y-you di'n' meang i'." He decides. He's silent again. "…S'okay d'. need sh-shpace. You'd lemme go ish I ran off."

"I.. trusht you. I respec you. 'n you trush 'n respec me. 'n w'know dat." She turns her head to look at him, resting her cheek on her knees. She nods silently.

"'f y'need.. m-moar time.." He nods silently, giving her a small smile. He's sure she can figure out the rest.

"Jush. wa-waned ta bring ya dis." He points to the jacket. He waits for some form of response. To be dismissed, or invited to stay. She thinks for a moment.

"I think I'm okay now.." She decides. "Thanks." She adds shyly. He gives her a nod.

I want to love you like this forever. He thinks, as he climbs down from the tree, and helps her down.

“Neil, you’re truly a wonder. What did I ever do to deserve you?” She smiles up at him, taking his larger, heavy hand in hers. He shrugs, walking with her back to the house.

I could ask you the same, Emily.

She's teaching him how to draw a cat. Both of their drawings get hung on the fridge by a giggling Emily when Neil's not home.

He's teaching her how to use an axe safely. She swings the tool over her head, into the log, and it just makes a little notch. He's showing her how to use the weight of the axe head, and not just brute force.

He's sick in bed. She's reading him a book as he falls asleep, his head resting on her lap.

They're making dinner. He's singing a song. He has a nice voice. He keeps messing the words up, but he keeps singing anyway. Emily listens as she takes something out of the oven, and sets the table. There's a smile on her face.

He's leaving the house. It's morning now. She runs out and hugs him before he can get out the door.

"Be safe. Love you." She tells him. He smiles, and plants a quick kiss on her lips.

"'ll trie." He says. She waves as he walks into the woods. Then he's gone. She cleans the house. She chops wood while he's away. He'll be so impressed when he gets home! She reads a book. She draws a picture. It's getting dark out. She turns on the porchlight so he can see when he comes home. She makes dinner.

…Shouldn't he have been back by now…? She sets the table, setting out dishes for her, and dishes for him. She waits. She looks at the clock.

Maybe he got stuck somewhere. She eats by herself. She puts the food away. She goes to bed.

He’ll come back. He always has before… She falls asleep.

The sun is rising. She slept in later than she usually does. Usually Neil… Oh. His side of the bed is cold, and undisturbed. She goes downstairs. His shoes are gone. The lamp is still on. The food she left on the table for him, is still there. There’s a lump in her throat.

Maybe he had to spend the night in town.

She goes outside, looking around, to make sure there’s no sign of him out there. He hasn’t come back. Yet. She clears his place at the table, and washes the dishes. She makes breakfast.

Gotta have it ready when he does get home. He’ll probably be hungry. She leaves the food on the table, and waits for him. He can have however much he wants when he gets home. I won’t even tease him this time.

It’s noon. He’s still not home. She goes outside, and picks up his axe, taking it to the front steps. It reminds her of his hands. She cradles it in her hands while she sits, and waits. A tear rolls down her cheek.

He’ll come home.

It’s getting dark again. He’s been gone for two days. His dish is still on the table from breakfast. She’s gone to town herself now, and looked at all the normal places. Asked everyone she knew. Searched the woods. No sign of him.

He’s gonna clear that plate when he gets home. She tells herself that all the next day. And the one after that. And the one after that. She lays on the couch, hugging his jacket. She hasn’t touched their bed since the first night.

He’ll come home.

She sobs.

He always comes home.

It’s getting colder now. Frost covers the ground. She washes his coat.

He’s gotta come home to get his coat. It’s so cold…

His dish is still on the table. She knows he’s not going to clear it. She knows he’s not coming home. She knew it the third day he’d been gone. It’s been six months now. Three days. Five hours.

It’s summer again. The house is a mess. Emily hasn’t showered in days. Her eyes are red, and swollen. There are dark smears under them. She hugs his axe to her chest, the rusting blade safely over her shoulder.

He’s not coming back, and I’ll never see him again.

“It’s so lonely out here.” She tells the axe.

“I would move back into town…” She looks down at the axe.

“But what if you come back? And I’m not here? Besides, you built this house with me, I can’t just leave it.” She strokes the handle of the axe. It’s rough, and pale. It didn’t look like that a year ago.

“...”

“How was your day?” She pauses like she half expects the axe to respond.

“Mine was alright.”

“I saw a really cute bunny…”

“Of course I drew a picture of it, I’ll show you if you come home.” She looks back at the house.

“I really let it get out of control, didn’t I?” She looks down at the axe again.

“You can’t come back to this mess. Not after whatever adventure you’re having out there.” She sighs, and leans the axe gently on the outer wall of the house.

“You just wait here. I’ll be right back.”

She goes back inside, and starts cleaning. She left his dish on the table, washed and ready.

“You’re gonna put this away when you get home.” She says to the empty room, before going to take a shower.

It’s dark again. She’s reading a book. It’s the same one she was reading when Neil was sick. She reads it aloud to the axe, with his coat wrapped around her shoulders. There’s movement at the edge of the clearing that the house sits in. She pays it little mind. This is normal. It’s the woods for darn sake.

A dark shadow emerges from the woods, walking slowly toward her. She looks up from her book. A man stands before her, looking around. Dark, and translucent. A phantom. Beings believed to contain the souls of the damned, forced to walk the earth forever, never finding peace. There’s something familiar about his face, the way he carries himself, his uneven jaw. Emily’s heart pounds. The form sharpens slightly, to closely resemble a face she hadn’t seen in a long time. He looks around, as if he’d never been here before. He looks down at the axe next to her, his axe, and picks it up with a practiced motion, confident and certain, in his big, powerful hands.

“Neil..?” Emily whispers, her chest and throat tight. His blood-red eyes snap to her. There’s no recognition in them. There’s no warmth. He smiles. It’s a twisted, cruel version of the crooked smile Emily had longed to see for a year. He touches the top of her head. No, he takes a handful of her dark brown hair, and lifts her head, exposing her neck. There’s a look of terror on her face. She squeezes her eyes shut.

“As long as it’s you…” She sniffs quietly. He raises the axe, up and out. “Thank you for coming back.”

7:05 AM

Faceless man sighted in Jackson Forest. A body was found buried at the edge of Jackson Forest, which miraculously came back to life, and ran off into the woods. Witnesses claim that it had the appearance of a naked teenager, with no eyes or mouth. Locals claim several sightings of the faceless man-

At most this was just some guy in a morph suit. 

“VIOLET! YOU’RE GONNA MISS THE BUS!!!” I heard my brother, Carter, call from downstairs. I pocketed my phone, and slipped a light blue hoodie over my head. 

“Violet!” He called again.

“Coming!” I said, rushing down the stairs with my backpack in hand. I wished I’d remembered to eat this morning. Oh well, such is the life of a teenager. 

The three of us made it to the bus just in time. The three of us being me, and my two younger brothers, Mitchel and Carter. Mitchel was thirteen, and Carter was eight, almost nine. I was Seventeen. We also had an older sister named Angel, but she was twenty one, so not in school anymore. She’d wanted to go to college, but we didn’t have the money to afford it. 

My head thumped the window next to me, startling me awake. I must’ve dozed off. The bus was pulling up to one of the school buildings. I picked up my bag as it came to a stop, and got off with the other high schoolers. 

7:29 AM

We all waited in a big line in front of the school doors. Cold morning air brushed through the leaves on the big tree at the front of the school, and seeped in through my clothes. I shivered. The line started moving forward. It looked like Aliza was absent today. Or just late. Aliza was a good friend of mine. Not my only friend, but definitely one of my closest. I’d known her since I moved here in sixth grade. 

I walked into the school building, and headed to my locker on the second floor, next to the ELA classrooms, and the computer labs, then to my Math class on the first floor. The day went as usual. I got done with Math, then went to ELA, then we all got the option to go to our lockers, and study in the hall, or the library. I usually stopped to say hi to my old English teacher, Mrs. Banter. Then lunch, Science, Geography, another study hall, and we all ended in our home rooms. By that time, I was usually exhausted. There had been a couple times I even fell asleep on my desk, and the homeroom teacher had to wake me up. 

3:03 PM

It was cold that morning, but by the end of school, it was warm out. Usually on a day like this, I’d walk home. But not today. A couple kids in our area went missing a couple weeks ago, and since then, Mom said I couldn’t walk home anymore. 

Neither of them were people I really knew, but it was still a shock when the school heartthrob, David Fletcher, went missing. The other boy’s name was Marshal, I think. And they were friends. They both had long-ish hair, and this Marshal-guy always wore the same red jacket. 

I sat in the middle of the bus, next to another girl named Melody. Melody was a Blond haired girl, with green eyes. She didn’t ride in the morning, her mom dropped her off on her way to work. She and I had one class together, Drama, but I didn’t have that class today. The only other time I usually saw her was in the hall. 

Just before the bus left, a boy named Tyson got on. He always did that. Getting on the bus right at the last minute. Sometimes he didn’t make the bus at all. I’d heard a rumor that one of his teachers always had him stay after school. He sat alone in one of the back seats. 

“Hey Melody!” One of the boys in a seat further back called as the bus pulled out of the parking lot. I looked up to see him leaning on the back of the seat. I didn’t really know his name, it might’ve been Josh? I think it was Josh. He wore big headphones all the time. 

“What?” Melody asked, looking over the seat. 

“Andrew wants to know if you’ll go out with him~” Another boy chimed in. Markus. 

“The question is, how much will you PAY me, to go out with him?” There was a chorus of ‘oohh’s’ from the back of the bus. I chuckled to myself as Headphones pulled out his wallet and pulled out some bills. 

“How’s thirty dollars?” He asked, offering the money. Another chorus of ‘oohh’s’.

“Sit back down!” The bus driver called from the front. They did. 

“So what do you say?” Headphones asked, Markus laughing quietly next to him. 

“I’ll think about it.” Melody said, turning back to the front. 

“Nice.” I whispered next to her. She just smiled.

3:35 PM

The bus came to a stop in front of my house. My brothers and I got off, and Mitchel shoved into my shoulder as he rushed passed toward the house. I headed straight to my room, and slipped my backpack off into the floor. I felt tired. So tired. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and scrolled through my social media feed until dinner. 

6:30 PM

Mom called me to dinner, and I sat down at the table. Mom was sitting at one end, and Dad sat at the other. Mitchel and I sat on one side, and Angel and Carter sat on the other. I groaned to myself. I didn’t want to sit next to Mitchel. Sometimes I wished I didn’t have him as a brother. I wished I could leave him at school like all my other stress. And then I mentally smacked myself, because he’s my brother. I should love him, and I hated that I didn’t. So I pushed it to the side of my mind to deal with later. 

Carter told us all about his day during dinner, about what new project they were working on, and which friends he played with. Dinner was alright. We had some kind of casserole my dad made, and a salad my sister put together. Mitchel ignored everyone.

7:28 PM 

I went to my room and got on my phone again. I was so tired. School was hard. I knew I didn’t have it as bad as some other people, I had a good home life, and didn't get picked on a lot. But it was still exhausting. 

9:49 PM 

Drip,.. 

Drip,.. 

Drip,..

Cold.

Cold and wet.

My head was pounding, burning. The cold feeling felt almost.. 

Refreshing. 

Dark..

No, blurry. Blurry’s better.

Everything was blurry. Everything was cold.. 

Everything was… BURNING.

There was a creaking, groaning sound. 

Loud machinery. Sounded like it needed to be oiled. 

I felt.. Well I felt dead. But.. dead things don’t hurt this bad, do they? Guess it was that ‘bleed to know you're alive’ or, in this case, ‘hurt to know’. But I felt cold. 

Stiff. 

Empty. 

I didn’t feel alive. 

Bright lights flashed on somewhere in front of me. 

Ugh, too bright. 

I heard a voice. It sounded.. 

Muffled. 

Distant. 

I couldn’t make out anything it was saying. 

I was so dizzy. 

The room looked blurry. Dark and red washed in from the corners of my vision. Everything faded to black. 

Enclosed. 

Trapped. 

Everything was dark. 

Was I supposed to be there? It wasn’t bad there. Not too hot, not too cold. 

Quiet. 

Peaceful. 

This was okay. Maybe a little.. 

Tight? 

Cramped? 

I couldn’t breathe very well. But. I didn’t think that was any real problem. Uncomfortable, but not a real problem. I felt.. 

Tired. 

So tired. 

Light flooded my vision again. 

Fuzzy.

Warm.

I heard.. 

Shouting?

I took a deep breath. 

Fresh air. 

More shouting. 

My vision cleared, slowly. 

My senses seemed to wake up from a deep sleep. 

I was.. In the ground? In a hole. The bottom of a hole. 

There were.. People. At the top of the hole. They were shouting again. I was. Sitting up in the hole. Looking at them. 

One of them pointed an arm at me. Pointed with a. A black thing. 

A gun. 

Something jolted in me. 

Recognition. 

I’d never seen a gun before. But I knew what it was. I knew.. I wasn’t wearing clothes. That was bad, right? I knew.. I must have been buried or something. I was covered in mud. I tried calling to the people at the top of the hole. It all came out as a dry wrasp. 

Water. 

I needed water. 

I braced a hand against the side of the hole, coming shakily to my feet. The person with the gun fired a shot. 

Loud. 

Too loud. 

I fell back. 

Dizzy. 

Burning.

My shoulder was burning. 

I saw smoky, flesh colored tendrils floating around my shoulder, and then the burning stopped. I got up again. They shot again. I didn’t fall down that time. I ran. I climbed out of the hole, and I ran. 

BANG! 

Trees. 

So many trees. 

BANG! BANG!

My head was pounding. 

Bang! 

The sound grew distant. My legs felt weak. My chest was burning. 

Bang! 

I collapsed on the ground, gasping and coughing. 

Water.

I needed water. 

Everything was dark again. 

It looked wrong. 

It looked right. 

My skin felt sticky. And something felt new. Solid ground beneath me, open air above me.  My chest felt different. 

Open. 

Air went inside me, and then out, and in, and so on. It felt good. I sat up. Leaves and sticks and dirt stuck to my skin. When I brushed them away, they left indentions in my skin. My mouth still felt dry. 

Sticky. 

I looked around. The sky was filled with dark, and white specks. 

Stars.

It was beautiful. The trees were tall, stretching their branches and leaves overhead. They were beautiful too. I saw.. A light. An orange light. Was that where the sun went? I pulled myself to my feet. I felt something.. Strange. Oh. That. after.. Relieving myself on a tree, I headed toward the light. I heard voices again. Different voices. I was closer now. No, this light was too small to be the sun. But curiosity pulled me closer. Something stopped me just outside the ring of light. I saw three people sitting around an orange, flickering, mass of light. 

Fire.

They had a large hump of cloth off to one side. 

A tent. 

Something told me it was some sort of shelter to sleep in. 

One of them sat on a piece of wood, another, the one closest to me, sat on a box. And the third stood further away, wrapped in a cloth. 

Blanket. 

They talked. Differently then the people who shot at me. Those people sounded..

Angry? 

Afraid. 

But these ones sounded different. 

Happy. 

But still something stopped me. Something I couldn’t place. I just stood there for a moment. Listening, waiting for something. 

“Anyone wanna hear a scary story?” The one on the block of wood asked the other two. 

“Sure.” The one closest to me said. The one in the blanket nodded. 

“Alright. So one day, this morning actually, a friend of mine got sent to investigate a patch of loose dirt at the edge of someone’s property. They get there, and look, and there is indeed a large patch of loose dirt. So they start digging. They get pretty far down, and they’re wondering if there’s even gonna be anything, because it’s really deep. But eventually…”

They pause for dramatic effect. 

“They dig up an old tarp.”

One of the three huffs with amusement. I didn’t know which one. 

“So they pull the tarp out of the hole. And underneath they find.. A body.” The other two looked slightly more interested, as was I. 

“But the weird thing is.. It didn’t have a face. Not like it’d been removed, or rotted away, the body actually looked like it hadn’t been there very long. But like there had never been eyes, or a mouth, just skin. While they were wondering what kind of sick thing had happened to have the body end up this way, the body sat up. Sat up like it was alive. One of the crew shot it in the shoulder, but the bullet hole closed back up like nothing happened. The creature got up, practically jumped out of the hole, and ran into the woods. Maybe my friend was crazy, I think it was just some dream he had, but then again, it could still be out there. Out here, somewhere.”

The person closest to me looked disinterested. The one furthest away shuddered. 

“Anyway, I think it’s about time we called it a night.” The one on the block stated. The other two agreed, The one in the blanket heading toward the tent. I took a few steps back, not wanting to be spotted. The story played on repeat through my head. It sounded.. 

Familiar. 

I saw the remaining two put some things away, and one of them put out the fire. Just before they went into the tent, the one from the block opened the container the one closest to me had been sitting on, and put something inside. Something told me.. Inside that container I’d find something to drink. 

Finally.

I waited until they’d gone inside the tent, before I crept close enough to open the container. I found a lot of things there. 

“Anyone else hear that?”

I closed the lid to the container, and bolted back to the safety of the shadows. The tent door opened, and one of the three peaked out. 

“There’s nothing there.” They said, going back inside. 

“I know I heard something.” The first said.

“It was probably a squirrel.” Said a tired voice. 

After a few moments that felt a whole lot like hours, I moved back to the box, careful this time not to make any noise. I found a small container filled with water, then decided to take one more just in case. 

I twisted the top of the container without really thinking about it, satisfied by the cracking sound it made. I didn’t think about how I knew how water bottles worked until after I took a sip. The water felt sickeningly cold. It didn’t fix the dry rough feeling instantly. The new sensations distracted me enough to stop me from wondering how I knew what water bottles were. I wiped my face with my bare arm.

Something felt off.

I couldn’t quite place it, but it felt like something was missing. My face felt wrong. I didn’t know what I was expecting when I touched my face, but I had a feeling something was missing. My lower face felt smooth. Solid. I remembered how the people around the fire looked. They had holes, and pockets in their faces. I felt the places where I remembered seeing these details. My face was all smooth and solid. 

Huh.

That didn’t seem right for some reason. I was a little relieved to find that I still had ears and a nose. But my eyes and mouth weren’t there. I remembered the story from a few minutes ago. I related a lot to the ‘creature’ in the story. 

I took another sip of water. Maybe.. 

I WAS the ‘creature’ from the story..? I felt a sudden cold, panicky feeling. 

Hold up. 

How was I drinking the water if I didn’t have a mouth?

I felt my face again. Still no mouth. 

No. wait. 

I felt part of my face cave in slightly, making a little tear in the skin where my hand slipped through into my mouth. I pulled it out, and the skin resealed like it had never cracked open. 

Gross.

I felt a chuckle rise in my throat. Something was definitely wrong here, but it wasn’t all bad, was it? I took another sip of water. I needed clothes. 

“Has anyone seen my shirt?”

“What shirt?”

“The gray one I dumped water on last night?” 

I felt a little bad. But I had a feeling just asking for the shirt wouldn’t have ended well. Better they never knew a ‘monster’ had been hanging around their campsite all night, right?

“Hey, who ate all the food?”