Tw: (light?)gore, mentions of animal abuse
There is no escape. I can hear its screams every waking moment. Its howls at night, its trills in the morn. People may say I'm mad. People may say I'm crazy. But I know it watches with those eyes. It looks upon me from high above. They're laughing at me. They're mocking me. They see me as less than. They think they're better.
I once got my hands on one of those vermin. I had never felt such a delight. I ripped from its skin those beautiful feathers that it loved to taunt me with to make sure it knew its place. Hearing its pained cries, seeing its wings flail as it desperately tried to free itself from my grasp. I felt a high like no other. But from the house I could hear my mothers call-
“Boy! leave the poor thing alone, I don't want you trackin’ no mud into the house.”
I couldn't disobey my mother and I felt perturbed by leaving my vengeance half done but knowing that the creature would soon slowly die being eaten by the worms that it once ate. It was finally where it should've been from the start. It made me feel a pleasure that no man or woman could satisfy. But even that thought couldn't completely satisfy my hunger. I wanted it to feel humiliation, the pain, the helplessness that I felt. There is no man or woman that could quell that desire.
Now here I am in the grave I have dug for myself. The worms, waiting to take their pick. The flying rodents now circle my house, seeking revenge for their fallen brethren, their squawks ringing in my ears even burying myself in the trash that fill the house can't block out their horrid sounds. Not being able to leave the prison they had made, they had trapped me once again. Mocking me. I can see it in their eyes. They look down on me. With those eyes. Waiting for a moment to strike, for a moment to do to me what I had done to its kin.
My time draws near but not near enough for I had remembered that which could be my salvation. Father had stored away something of great opportunity down in the basement, something that would spare me only a few more seconds but seconds still. I had started to make my decent down into the cellar, traversing the mounds that had gathered from the years before, covering my ears in vain for I had was still being tormented by the screeches, but as I opened the door, light above illuminating my path, the screeches stopped for a moment I could breath but only a moment for I still had a duty to fulfill. I ventured forth through the old junk that had never been thrown out now filling the cellar while I was dredging through the mounds as I had caught a glimpse of something, and when I got a bit closer to it I saw it was a bolt cutter I was planning on looking for it after finding the case but no matter as I continued my journey. Soon I had arrived at the safe that had held my salvation. My father selfishly wanted to hoard this saving grace to himself, locking it behind a code but I didn't come empty handed. It took quite a long while before I could open the safe but once I did, I saw it, my savior, a Gun.
Eyes, sharp as a pin. It mocks me from above. Its feathers, as beautiful as the midnight sky, so empty and vast is its soul. And so short is its life. Woe is it who soars, woe is it that flies.
Art block hitting hard so im prob gonna be posting short stories for a while or maybe ill get writers block next. Maybe if i keep this up ill beable to finish one of my oc stories and post that
Since i just came back from a long ass break all my posts arent gonna be gettin any traction but hey, they never do
Took 3 days to write this because im a slow writer and because ive been busy
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