The Crow

I held the dove in my hands, her panicked cries pierced the morning air. I grasped her tightly, constricting her wings as she shook with terror. I felt the feathers between my fingers, so soft was the down, how fragile her bones. I was careful with her, and now was the final moment. I began to choke her, her twitchy movements stopped suddenly. The birds eyes watched me with evil in them. I felt like my soul had been taken from me, along with her life.

This had to be done though.

I kneel at the end of the pier and I hold the dove loosely in my palms. The water staring back at me is dark, almost black. The moss and algae covering most of it's surface seems to dissipate and I place the bird on the surface. The pond echos in my heart, and begs the offering. I let the dove float slowly to the bottom. I feel her sinking.

I wait, and I feel my heart rushing to keep beating. I wait for but a moment, and I feel the water separate, and make a path, and I know she is coming up. Her wings are spread as she levitates out of the dirty leech water. Her once pure wings now are lacquered in black, and the gloss of her coat resonated in the rays of the sun. She's been to the other side now, and come back stronger. Like me.

She watches me, knowing my pain, and with her rebirth, she lands on my shoulder. When she nuzzles her beak to my skin I feel cold. She lays down, clawing at my skin. Then I feel a burning like tar over my shoulders, I can't move. She's digging her way into me. I start to scream, but hold it back, I hold onto my arms for balance. I claw my arms until I feel the burning growing like a stem out of my shoulder blade's. I watch hesitantly as the wings form, and the feathers unravel.

I feel her beak inside my throat, and know the power that she has given me.