Red Raven

This story took longer than I had hoped- I finished it on the third night of working on it. I had gotten stuck at a few points, figuring out how to work in certain ideas and lines I thought sounded cool, etc. Also we got distracted now and then; while brainstorming with Shan, at some point, we got the mental image of a British man proclaiming "There's a bloody raven on my windowsill!" Which caused much giggling. And then, given the nature of the story, there were other bouts of brainstorming that led to maniacal laughter instead. It was quite demented, really, though it disturbed us less than perhaps it should have. 0.o

But, anyways, without further ado... here is Bedtime Story Number Two.

Red Raven

There’s a raven on my window sill. She sits there all the time, watching me intently with those gleaming silver eyes, spreading her tattered wings now and then to remind me of her bloodstained feathers. She knows the things I’ve done.

She won’t let me forget.

I once heard that ravens were bringers of bad luck. I wish I could believe the tale, that it was that cursed bird that brought me this misfortune. But I can see in her strong silver gaze that she will not take the blame. I know by her scarlet down that I am at fault.

Oh, red raven, what have I done? 

It was such a petty argument!  How could it have blinded me so with rage that I took that blade in hand and slashed her tender little throat? And that you simply sat and watched… dear bird, if only you had taken off a moment sooner, your feathers would be untainted by her blood, your mind untainted by her death.  And the tales say you bring my kind misfortune.

But why do you stay, dear bird? Why do you torment me so? Is it not easier to forget? Why don’t you spread your wings and fly forth to some clearer skies? You have the winds at your disposal. What reason could you possibly have to linger? Does the memory not bother you, my raven? But I see no regret in your eyes. I never saw it in hers either. She was such a spirited thing. Always had this look in her eye, strong and clear and proud, and… quite the same look as you give me now. Your eyes, my dear raven, I swear they’re the same as hers.

It’s almost as if she were still here.

Sometimes I think you are too kind to me, dear bird; I see her gaze in yours all the time, and it is almost as if I never lost her. But then your bloodstained feathers catch my eye and I crumple under the memory of what I’ve done.

I swear I loved you, my darling; you took a life and gave it wings. Why is it such a bitter lament, that I have returned you the favor?

Yeah, I'm concerned by Shan's choice of bedtime story, too.

Sweet dreams, huh?