A Murder of Crows

"Miss Neureuther!"

I jolted awake, startled by the booming voice that had come from the front of the classroom where I found my science teacher glaring at me. Even seated from the back row closest to the window, his furious stare met mine in an instant and caused every muscle in my body to tense up as I realized what was happening - I fell asleep, yet again...and all too quickly I felt myself wanting to disappear. The tension between us was nearly tangible, like the storm clouds gathering outside you could feel the humidity pressing against your skin. All eyes in the room were now focused solely on me, making me feel more exposed than when I first stepped foot in this school almost four years ago. And just like then I felt that powerful desire to run away and it didn't matter where I went so long as I found a place to be alone and no one had their godsdamn eyes on me. I hated being stared at just as much as suffering through this hell hole they call a school. If I could become invisible that would fix most of my problems and no one could ever find me, but I'm not that lucky and that wouldn't even make their staring any less uncomfortable. This was going to be one of those days, wasn't it?

I swallowed thickly and reluctantly pushed out an uncertain response, knowing exactly where this eventually was heading, "Yes?" I winced, preparing myself for the amount of backlash I was certain to receive.

I can't believe I'm in this situation again. This has to be around, like what, the sixth time in the past week? I'm unbelievable. Way to go, Raven.

"Have you been paying attention to anything I've said?" he asked a bit too harshly. More like demanding, actually, and that kind of tone never settled well with me. Not even when I was younger. It always put me in an uncomfortable position where my mouth liked to run wild with lies that I never could seem to leash down. Just like now.

As if it came naturally, the corners of my lips tugged at the thought of smiling and being me, I was unable to conceal it as I answered, "Of course! If not for that reason, why else would I be here?" My expression brightened involuntarily then when I saw the look on Mr. Wilson's face. It shouldn't have, but maybe it was that mischievous side of myself that wanted to see the chaos. To see what would happen if I stopped caring. I know better than to feed into it. And I've been told countless times that this wasn't me. And I know that...or maybe I didn't . It's really hard to know yourself truly when people keep shoving drugs down your throat at every given moment you tell them you have a problem. As if medication was the cure for everything. It's definitely not helping me get proper sleep at night, that's for sure. At least I haven't blacked out in a long while.

There was no hint of amusement that crossed Mr. Wilson's sharp features, but it seemed a lot like he was holding back his tongue. Unlike me, of course. I should clamp my mouth shut before I make the hole I was digging myself deeper and launch myself into it. He made a visible effort to straighten his jaw before heading to the blackboard. A feeling of dread slowly started to settle in my stomach as I watched him take a piece of chalk and move back toward my desk. I felt as helpless as a stone thrown into an abyss, only able to sit and wait for what he had in mind.

"Go ahead, Miss Neureuther," he said, placing the chalk on his desk and folding his arms. "If you've been paying attention, you should be able to finish the equation on the board." He stayed beside my desk, remaining silent as he patiently waited for a response.

I fixated on that piece of chalk for what felt like a small eternity, knowing that I caused this and maybe could have even prevented this from happening if I hadn't fallen asleep. I silently scolded myself, cursing fluently in my head for getting into such a miserable pickle as I searched desperately for a way out. But nothing appeared to make sense all of a sudden. My thoughts began slurring, getting so tightly jumbled that I couldn't remember what was said or what I was supposed to be doing. I was quiet for so long, I began to ponder the room around me. Everything felt slightly surreal, and maybe that was crazy, but I started to suspect I was dreaming. Was this just another one of my odd dreams? Immediately, I began to question where exactly I was.

Hearing Mr. Wilson's voice shout again was just as startling as it had been the first time, yet I didn't think I jumped in my chair as much. My gaze quickly shot to him, and I suddenly realized why the room felt so...still. His eyebrows furrowed against my confused expression, "the board?"

I blinked twice, but he was still standing there looking just as annoyed as me because I was still in this damn classroom. A part of me sort of wished it had been one of my odd dreams. "What? Oh - yeah. Right. No, not today. Not in the mood."

This was definitely going to be one of those days...

He stopped, temporarily perplexed, as if my response threw him off before irritation set back in. "This isn't optional, Ravenna. I'm telling you to finish it."

I downright cringed at the sound of that stupid name, especially coming from his mouth. "Last I checked, this is a free country. You can't make me do anything I don't want to do." Why do I torture myself like this? It shouldn't be that hard to keep quiet.

Mr. Wilson obviously wasn't pleased with me, but he kept pushing anyway, "You could at least tell us what the lesson is about."

Now I could really feel the tension in the room practically strangling me at this point. Is it possible to feel claustrophobic while sitting in an open room? Because I feel like I'm about to suffocate; I could feel everyone looking at me, their eyes conveying every thought that wasn't being said aloud. I should be used to this by now. I know all too well what they think of me, but it doesn't make sitting here and enduring it any easier. Being a class favorite has never been of interest to me, and I wouldn't go so far as to say I'm Mr. Wilson's favorite because even I'm not dumb enough to believe that he enjoys my company. God, I wish I could just disappear right now. I avert my gaze from the room and concentrate on Mr. Wilson instead. Might as well look him in the eye while I'm already this far deep in the shit hole today.

Taking possibly the deepest inhale of my existence, I forcefully held the chalk piece out to Mr. Wilson. He took it from my hand without question, and I didn't break eye contact. I wouldn't cower now no matter how much I wanted to sink into my chair. I muttered the words so quietly I prayed no one else would hear them, "I wasn't paying attention."

I swear I saw a smug smile creep its way across his lips right before he turned away, asking that dreadful question I so wished wasn't spoken aloud. "And why weren't you paying attention? I'm sure your classmates would like to know why you interrupted our lesson."

An apology of sorts rushed into my thoughts, something that should have been thought about at the beginning of this ideal. I slept through his lecture again and here I was regretting it. Or was I regretting something else? I could list them but what's the point? I should just apologize and be done with it, yet, just when I was about to speak, something else came out of my lips instead.

"I wasn't paying attention because the sound you make when you talk puts me to fucking sleep. Is that enough for an answer, or should I go on because I can go on?"

Unfortunately, I am forever cursed with this terrible sarcastic mouth of mine that soap won't even fix. I had intended to say something along the lines of 'I'm sorry for falling asleep at my desk again and wasting your time', and here I go launching myself into that said pit. I should have stayed home today. Then again, I've always had a hard time communicating with the teachers here. Most of them were assholes, and that's a heavy most because it seemed like everyone in this town was an asshole. So why do I need to be polite again when it seems like a lot of them don't even bother being kind?

"Excuse me?" He generally sounded surprised, but why? It's not like this was the first time I've said fuck out loud and it probably wouldn't be the last.

"Karma has big teeth and it's just waiting to take a bite out of a zounderkite's shitty lackadaisical attitude like yours. Want to hear more? I can practically recite the whole damn dictionary of swear words to you if you keep prodding me."

I have to stop myself from laughing—the look on his face is priceless. But Mr. Wilson didn't find my sarcasm amusing, as usual. Actually, no one in the classroom was laughing. In truth, I almost wanted him to kick me out of the classroom; part of me was screaming to get up and leave right then and there. But today wasn't one of those days, or so I told myself. If I had any good days left.

"Detention, this Saturday from noon to 5 pm right here in this classroom. If you persist in your disruptive behavior, I'll double the time and you'll be here again that following Sunday. Are we clear?" His threat was every bit as clear as the stone-cold expression on his face, so I said nothing else. "Now pay attention."

Mr. Wilson walked back to the chalkboard in long agitated steps and continued the lesson. Thankfully, he never called on me again, but his watchful gaze never strayed too far from the back row. And despite my lingering need to flee, I forced myself to stay put and quite in my chair until the class was over. Amidst all the whispers from my peers regarding my behavior, I did my best to ignore them. Surely enough, like any other day, gossip would soon spread like wildfire around the school. And if Mr. Wilson didn't get ahold of Melody first, I knew well enough that Alice wouldn't hesitate to tell her what I've done. The thought made my blood boil.

I eyed the ticking clock above the door, hoping like hell for time to move faster. As soon as the bell rang, I jumped out of my chair, books already in hand and rushed for the door. As I entered the already crowding hallway, I keep my head down trying to avoid making any eye contact with anyone. All I thought about was reaching my locker, shoving what I needed into my backpack, and getting the hell out of here. Luckily no one bothered me as I did just that. Swinging the bag over my shoulder, I made a dash down the staircase to the first floor. The sky was blanketed in dark grey clouds as I stepped outside, the rain already coming down in a drizzle.

"Fan-fucking-tastic!" I shout at the sky. Great, fucking great. It's days like this where I actually wish I could take the bus, or at least have my damn stepmother pick me up. It's not like I can do anything about it now, and I'm definitely not going to wait for the rain to stop. I can't stand another second near this place. It's only light rain anyhow. I pull up my hood and grip hard onto the shoulder strap of my backpack. Taking a quick look around the parking lot, I see some cars leaving. Once in the clear, I make a beeline down the road. I get as far as the main street before coming to a stop to catch my breath. I let my backpack slide off my shoulder not caring the slightest about it getting soaked or dirty resting on the sidewalk. I lean against one of the four pines lined up in front of a bleak house with green trim. With each sharp gasp, I mentally curse at myself for not working out more. You're such a pathetic mess. Eventually, I plop down on the grass without concerns over the state I'm in. I'll change once I'm home. Maybe If I wait here long enough, I won't have to deal with confronting Melody head-on until tomorrow morning. What a cruel idea.

I clear away the webs of wet hair from my face as I look around. My attention all too quickly settles beyond the trees. The sky had grown darker since I left and now the rain had transferred to a complete downpour. With my luck, I'll only stumble upon an umbrella resting behind our front door back at the house. On the bright side, I didn't leave my drawing books and iPod at home for nothing. At least I'm the only one getting soaked. I wish I knew the time though. Which means I have no way of knowing when Melody leaves the house, or if she already had.

I stand up instantly to something that sounded like steel scraping along the concrete. It only lasted a fraction of a second, but it sounded so close to where I had come from. I turn to look across the street at the other sidewalk, but I don't see anyone just like I hadn't seen anybody on my side. The rain is so deafening I wouldn't be able to hear anyone sneaking up on me. The very thought fills me with paranoia. I would have shrugged it all off if it weren't for hearing the crows cawing nearby. I don't see them in the downpour, and I'm not sure if it's the thought of thinking someone is out there stalking me or what, but I imagine feeling their eyes watching me. Then I hear it, the same quick scraping sound, only this time I hear it come from behind me. I jump away from the trees quickly and look behind me. I can barely see anything behind the trees and the rain, but I'm sure I heard it. I know I did. My gut is telling me there is somebody out there. I can't shake the feeling of being watched.

"What the hell?" I whisper. Without looking away, I reach for my backpack that is still on the ground. Maybe it was nothing, I tell myself. Or maybe I'm moments away from getting attacked by some crazy butcher who'll leave my body to rot on the side of the road. I grunt at the thought. That's crazy. I doubt anyone would even care about that. Plus, If I'm about to die, who's going to notice?

"Well? What are you waiting for? An invitation? Just get it over with already!" I wait for something to happen, for anything to happen. The rain never changes, and no one shows their face. What the hell am I even doing?

I turn away from the tree and start jogging down the main street again. Upon crossing the road, I hear what sounded like footsteps trailing behind me, just barely audible with the rain falling. Instantly I glance over my shoulder while simultaneously slowing down. I stop walking. But of course, no one is there. I sweep around the now darkened street, but even with the lights from lamp posts I still can't see anyone through the rain. I'm not going crazy. I know I heard those footsteps. It can't just be in my head.

My heart beats rapidly against my ribcage, but I try to stay calm and keep walking. This time I listen carefully for the footsteps through the rain. Every glance behind me I keep telling myself the same sentence, it's just one more block. I'm not going crazy. I'm not hearing things- and then, as if summoned by my thoughts, the footsteps start up again. The thumping in my chest doubles. My grip on the strap tightens as I try my best not to panic. Someone is following me, and I'm not sure what is worse, not knowing who is behind me or daring myself to look back again. What if they follow me home and wait until I fall asleep to venture inside and kill me? Shit, should I even go home?

The sound of their footsteps slowly began to rhythm with my own, but they never sound too far or too close, as if they were keeping an exact distance from me. I'm so focused on listening to whoever it was behind me that I walk past my own road.

God damn it! This is how I die, isn't it? I can't even pay attention long enough to my own fucking surroundings without getting distracted! I am such an idiot!

When I heard the scraping of metal slide against the concrete, I about leaped out of my own skin. I bolt across the yard of an off-white house with no real sense of direction other than blind luck. Running straight into the greenhouse beside the home, I drove myself into a rickety steel table, sending a trio of porcelain pots to smash onto the floor. The shock practically causes me to stumble over if it weren't for my quick footing because, by some miracle, I manage to catch myself from face planting. I see a tear in the obscured tarp and push myself through it to the other side. Chucking my bag over the fence, I clamber over after it. I hear the tear before the initial tug at my hood on my way down, and I curse at myself again for not paying attention to my surroundings. I would not have ripped my damn favorite hoody if I kept my eyes on the fucking road. Landing on my feet, I come face to face with the road to my street. Fucking finally. Hunching over I rested my hands over my knees so that I could settle my breathing before I continued back up again. Through the downpour, I catch something positioned on the other side of the road just before the lamp post. Without looking away I reach for my bag. It looks a lot like the silhouette of a person, but they are still. Startled would be an understatement for what I'm seeing. Not knowing what exactly it is, I kept my eyes focused on it. The silhouette is standing close to a large maple shrouded by numerous tall shrubs. Even without the rain, the sky is getting darker by the minute and since whatever it was did not stand directly under the lamppost, I can only guess what it could be. Slowly I loop the strap of my bag over my shoulder and begin walking. Something flickers where the head of the silhouette is, like a reflective shard of one of those street signs. And the longer I stared at it, I suddenly realized that it is a person and that their head is following my movements. Right away I stop walking. I can just make out the outline of their build. Tall, around six in a half foot in height, shit maybe more. They seem equally solid. The height alone provokes my nerves, and then as I thought it, the silhouette steps out from the shadows and into the light at the same time a sound of rustling from over the fence startles me out of hesitation. A murder of crows flocks over the fence, flying all around me before heading upwards into the stormy skies. At that same moment lightning flashes sending me bolting down the road without even thinking about looking back at the figure standing underneath the lamp post. The fear of someone chasing me throws me at my doorstep pounding at a locked door.

"Alice!" I strike the door with my fists as hard as I can, shouting for my stepsister who could not get here any faster. In all honestly, she undoubtedly locked the door intentionally. If I wasn't scared out of my mind right now, I definitely would have suspected one of her jock friends was out here chasing me for the joy of taunting me. I wait for only a second before practically screaming her name just in case she was blasting music in her ears. I hope she goes deaf, that ungrateful bitch.

"Alice! For fuck's sake, open the goddamn door-" suddenly the door swings open and I stumble forward into Alice, my only barrier from crashing into the floor.

"Gah! Get the hell off me!" Alice shoves me away with dull eyes narrowing. "What the hell Ravenna? You're soaking wet!"

Her words hold a certain weight of disgust to them as if 'soaking wet' meant filthy or diseased ridden to her whenever I was around. At least it seemed that way to me. I could hear the laughter and shouting going on in the background, coming from the living room that Melody always kept clean, just like the rest of the house. If I had to guess, Alice had company over knowing damn well Melody, my stepmother, and her biological mother would have her head. And another guess, Melody is working late tonight again, which would explain the crowd of guys huddled in the living room drinking beers and eating whatever monstrosity of food that was brought into this house. I could practically taste the alcohol in the air. I guess now I won't have to face Melody tonight about what happened at school, and if Alice doesn't get her shit together, she'll be the one Melody will be yelling at tomorrow morning. If that counts as a bright side, I'll take it.

Alice lets out an irritated and overly exaggerated sigh as she backs away a few feet complaining, "Now I have to change clothes. Thanks a lot, rat!" In my defense, her clothes were already ruined, to begin with. If wearing barely enough fabric to cover your skin even counts as clothing, that is. Looks like her choice in style is hanging on by just a thread.

I roll my eyes out of habit, "Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I should have stayed in the sewers where the rats live until the storm passed and not run all the way home while being chased by someone trying to murder me. But then at least I wouldn't be drenched. I'd just smell, right? While I'm at it, I should have learned how to pick open locked doors since I can't depend on a deaf whore to open the fucking door for me."

"The fuck did you call me?"

As if pretending to care, I place my hand over my heart and gasp, "Oh, did I say whore? They at least get paid for their line of work and contribute to society. What I meant to say was slut."

"You're lucky I didn't just leave your ass out there to freeze." She shoots back through her teeth.

"Oh, lucky me. And stop calling me Ravenna. That's not my name."

Disgusted, she pulls herself away from the room while muttering the words, "whatever, freak," before entering the laundry room.

The right thing to do here is to call Melody, and I would have, but there are only two phones in the house not counting Alice's own cell, and those two are probably hidden in her room or someplace else I would not be able to look. It's what she did last time I threatened to call Melody. I ended up locked in the downstairs laundry room for fucking five hours until the party ran itself into the ground. I would rather not relive that bullshit, no matter how irritating she can be. So instead of doing what Melody had advised me to do, I pick up my bag and walk straight upstairs pretending nothing is wrong with the world, and everything is sunshine and daisies.

I push open the door to my room and as soon as the door shuts behind me, a dark slender animal greets me with a long yowl. A black fluffy cat approaches me with more excitement than I've had all day. Her bobbed tail curls from left to right swiftly as her large paws bat at my feet in a playful manner without accidentally clawing my skin. I can only offer her a soft smile as I struggle to make it over to my bed without stepping on her. Her hyper personality always puts me in a better mood, especially when she is this excited to see me home. At least someone here is happy to see me.

"Hey there sweet girl," I chuckle softly while brushing a hand through her thick fur. Dropping my bag onto the floor, I take everything out knowing well that the books are dripping wet. They're only schoolbooks, but I don't really bother to lay them out to dry. There isn't really a point in drying them if the books are already ruined, right? In that case, I just threw them onto the floor and strip out of my clothes to put on something preferably dry and comfortable. Scaraneta climbs back onto the bed to lay down and watches me contently as I move from one side of the room to the other. I glance her way while slipping on a long t-shirt. Her pupils dilate and suddenly she sprawls out on her backside as a way of asking me to pay attention to her. I grin.

"At least one of us had a good day, huh? You know, If I could wish for anything, I would wish to be in your position. Then I could avoid people all day and sleep, not to mention go on whatever crazy adventures that take you away from me at night. Where do you go when I'm asleep, hmm?" Tapping at my window makes my heart flutter in my chest. A small black bird sits perched on the edge of my window ledge staring in. It caws a few times before tapping at the glass with its beak. Instantly my little furry companion rushes towards the window in a ravenous pounce, scarring it off. I groan at the sudden sharp pain at the back of my neck. Scaraneta twists back around and chatters at me, utterly oblivious to what had been at the window seconds ago. The sound makes me laugh and eases my nerves.

"I'm fine. My neck just hurts, that's all. Go look out the window again and watch for the bird. I'll be right back." Gathering my wet clothes, I head over to the bathroom, and one by one drop them down the laundry chute, leaving my hoody for last. I stare at it, debating on if I should sleep without it tonight. I could go downstairs and use the dryer and simply wait for my hoodie to dry, but do I really want to go downstairs right now?

I walk over to the landing and peer over the railing to listen to the party going on down below. The TV is on in the living room adding to the voices. I guess I had not noticed that before. They must be watching a football game. I grimace and slump my shoulders.

"It's not worth it," I sigh.

I decide to keep my hoodie with me tonight and skip any chance at having dinner. For all I know, Melody might not be back until midnight, possibly even two in the morning. So, there is no point in staying up tonight and waiting for her to come home. And if I'm to be yelled at, I'd rather get some amount of shut-eye before that happens. I shut the lights off in my room before crawling into bed. I curl up with my hoody despite it being damp and smelling like the wet air outside and just breathe. I don't actually mind the rain or the smell outside. And I don't think Scaraneta minds it either when she joins me, making herself comfortable over my hoody closest to my face. Her deep rhythmic purring puts me into a deep and comfortable slumber.