Birthday Plans

I have always wished I was born another creature. How would it be, if I was born a unicorn, the complete opposite of myself? I would shine with joy and life, while others looked on longingly.

But… I was not born a unicorn. I was born a Thestral, a black, skinny, invisible Thestral. Invisibility has frustrated me for a long time. I would love it if a creature would look straight into my eyes, not just look through them.

Today is my third birthday. I know that soon Hagrid will come galumphing into our forest patch. “Oh, Furcifer!” he will trill, “I brought you cow!”

I think I will celebrate my own way, thank you very much.

The sunlight burns my eyes as I step out of the forest. Basking in the light, I spread my spindly wings and jump into the air. Nothing. Not even a drift. Being the youngest Thestral in our pack is really quite stressful. I have never soared above the trees as my uncle is doing right now. He dips in and out of branches as easily as if swimming in the lake. My heart yearns to join him.

Averting my gaze, I see a group of creatures coming out of huge glass huts. They look like centaurs without the bottom half. The creature’s bottom halves are black, and billow out around them. My mother calls these creatures children, while Hagrid calls them students. I’m not sure what to call them.

I think I will call them beans. They look very much like the beans Hagrid brought me a while ago. I think they were called Bertie beans or something?

Those beans he brought me were wonderful. My favorite tasted just like smoked centaur. I think I want some more beans. I set off at a gallop, my back feet pounding on the ground. I am rushing towards the nearest bean, but I feel someone watching me.

Over at Hagrid’s hut, Hagrid raises his eyebrows. He grins at me and winks. He puts a finger to his mouth. I think this means slow, or maybe hello. Who knows?

I raise one foot staring at my two toes. I place it on the ground as gently as I can. I then trot along very, very quietly. I don’t want the bean to become startled.

I’m almost there. I reach out my lips, grasping with yellow teeth, but the bean pulls away!

“Oy Hermione, wait up,” he calls to a bushy haired creature in front of him. As he hurries to catch up with the bean, I jump for my chance.

Before I reach the bean, I am soaring through the air. I’m flying! This is the most wonderful feeling! I try flapping my wings to stay airborne.

My head goes crashing into a stone wall, a terrible ending to a great ride. I look up to see a very shaken bean looking over at me. He has a piece of wood out and is pointing it at me. “Don’t you dare touch my friends,” he speaks slowly and clearly.

I put on my best pouty face, and walk slowly up to apologize. I use my super long tongue to lick his fingers. Blah! He is not a good tasting bean. I trot away into the castle.

Inside the castle, I lose my black haired bean friend. Searching for him, I gaze over all the colorful heads, so unlike my home. There are beans of every shape and color imaginable. They are all scurrying around like little bowtruckles fighting for wood lice.

As I open my mouth ready to lick the white bean scurrying in front of me, I notice a bean more colorful than anything I have ever seen. This bean floats just above my head singing tunelessly, while cackling with laughter.

“Firsties, Firsties are no fun, Firsties, Firsties you should run!”

The bean’s voice makes me cringe, yet he looks quite delectable. I stand on my hind legs, reaching with all my might. My plan is to knock the bean down and then proceed to eat it. Every time my leg flies up to knock it down, I miss! Every time! Now, this is quite frustrating.

In a huff, I blow wind (and maybe a little of something else) at the bean. With a scream of terror, he is being blown away. So much for that bean. The other beans seem a little nervous. There are shouts of “the Bloody Baron!” I don’t know what that means, but it sounds delicious.

Looking around for this bloody baron, I see a bean with bright red hair flowing over her shoulders. As every other thought is blown from my mind, I run up behind the bean, ready to close my teeth around her hair. As I open my mouth, I am thwarted once again. The bean’s hair whips me in the face as she starts to amble away.

I follow closely behind the bean, but its hair continues to sway back and forth as it walks. I will just wait until the bean stops, and then it will be feasting time.

Finally! We have stopped moving. The bean sits down in the back of a room. There are many other beans in this room, and even a bean at the front who seems to be giving a lecture. I don’t like lectures, and an advantage of being invisible is, I don’t have to listen! I decide that the bean will taste better in pieces. Just a little nibble at the end will do the trick.

As I am chewing my little bit of bean hair, I notice a blonde bean staring right at me. This is not the usual, stare through me I get from most beans. She is looking deep into my eyes, though rather eerily. I try to concentrate on the hair in my mouth. It tastes like grass, chopping up my mouth, and making it hard to swallow. I spit out the wad of half-digested bean. These beans are really, not very good.

As I start to make my way out of the room, the blonde bean waves good-bye, and blows me a kiss. That is one creepy bean.

Strolling along the dark corridors, I see a bean strolling, no strutting down the hallway. She has long dark hair that flows out behind her. Her skin is dark, though not as dark as mine.

She keeps one hand clasped at her hip. The other, she keeps by her side with the fingers pointing outwards. She shakes her backside as she walks, and turns every so often to see if anyone has noticed her. I follow her as she walks, every so often stopping to imitate how she swaggers.

In the entrance hall, I hear beans chatting and coming towards me. I stand on my back two legs, putting my front hoof on my hip. I bend my arm slightly, while trying to keep the other arm next to my body. The hardest part is trying to walk. I am not used to walking on two legs. I try to keep my legs apart while walking, but my knees keep jostling together.

I hear running footsteps, and the blonde bean from class runs in. She is dragging another bean with her. This bean has pink cheeks, and is huffing to keep up with her. The blonde bean stares protuberantly at me, wondering what I must be doing.

A chuckle escapes the other bean’s mouth. This is my incentive to continue my imitation, despite the pain in my legs. I love entertaining everyone, even beans.

As I continue my charade, adding a few bum shakes, I hear a slow but distinct clapping noise. I turn to see a tall white bean with hair that covers his face. He is bringing his hands together, amusement glowing in his eyes.

I fall onto all four legs, my heart filling with pride. I swear my black cheeks are gaining color. As a content grunt escapes my lips, I unfurl my wings and push off with my back feet.

I fly out of the castle, the soft sound of applause thrusting me forward over the treetops, dipping in and out of branches as easily as if swimming in the lake.

No Goodbye

I used my nose to nudge the rough wooden cabinet. The paint was chipped and peeling in many places. The hinge on the door was orange with rust. I nudged the door again, hoping that it would open this time.

My tongue felt dry and unused and my stomach groaned with longing. I let out a hiss, long and deep. It filled the empty house with a call of desire and sadness. It had been three weeks since I had seen him. He had left without a word, rushing out of the door with his glasses sliding off his nose.

I made a long scratch down the door of the cabinet. My claws dug into the wood, searching for the other side. I pulled back my paw and my nail flew off. I could see crimson splattering over the floor. Flecks of it hit my eyes and stuck to my whiskers.

I watched as the door creaked open. It opened just enough so that I could see darkness within. I poked my nose through, pushing open the door as I did so. A wave of stale air reached my nostrils. I looked into the cabinet, hoping, reaching…

Inside the cabinet was a spider’s web and nothing else. It had been spun with care to catch the spider’s meal. It seemed that the spider would go hungry tonight. That would make two of us. I watched the spider walk across the bottom of the cabinet. It slowed down, weary from its travels and looked up at me. I could see the fear forming in its eyes. It was too afraid to run away, yet too afraid to drop my gaze.

I walked away. I imagined the spider’s relief, its optimism that it was going to live until tomorrow. I had no optimism, only despair.

I did not believe he was coming home, I did not believe I would ever see him again.

I sat on the musky orange couch. A puff of dust rose when I planted myself firmly on a cushion. I remembered a happier time sitting on this couch.

I had sat on his lap, and he had petted my back. I remembered the rest of them, his family. They had wandered in and out of the room, sometimes stopping to chat and other times merely passing by.

I remembered how one by one they had left him. Some had said good-bye, others had merely stormed from the house. I remembered him after they were all gone. He had sat on the couch with me and stroked my fur. I remember seeing one lone tear descend down his face. It had been untainted and pure, yet it had tasted salty and bitter.

As my thoughts drifted back to my loneliness, my eyes rested on a faded picture. It showed him alone with no one to comfort him. He stood on a long stretch of dirt road with no houses or civilization in site. His expression was downcast and his whole body seemed to droop.

I remembered a long time ago when that picture had been full of life. It had held nine smiling people. They had held hands and hugged. They had laughed. He had been surrounded by loved ones, but one by one they had disappeared. Now he had left me too.

As I remembered the old times, trying not to think about the pain in my stomach or the ache in my heart, I heard the wood moan outside. There were noises and scuffling coming from the front porch. I got up, hoping with all my might that it was him.

The door opened to the sound of ragged and harsh breathing. In stepped a woman that I had known a long time ago. Her robes were sliced in places and she had numerous cuts and bruises. Blood dripped from a long incision descending from her forehead to her chin.

Her skin seemed to sag off her bones and her wrinkles had deepened to valleys. Her eyes were pink and they glimmered in the light. I saw myself reflected in her eyes. The old kneazle, his pet, his love was sitting before her, suffering just like her.

Suddenly she collapsed onto her knees, gasping and moaning. Her body convulsed and she lay there twitching and sobbing. The floor shook, moving the couch. I leapt up, alarmed.

She stopped moving. She lay still looking at the ceiling with her arms folded over her chest. Her eyes unfocused and she remained motionless.

“He’s… he’s…dead! He’s dead!” she screamed. The terrible truth sank through my skin. I could not exactly make out the words, but it was clear that he was with us no longer. He was dead. The only creature I had ever trusted, the only human that I had ever liked, no loved, had left me.

Without thinking, I ran to her side. I lay on her stomach and gazed at her face. Close up, her eyes showed love and sadness, devotion and pain.

I remembered when I first had met him at the railroad station…
I remembered how he had let me sleep in his bed…
And I remembered the last time he had looked into my eyes and told me how much he loved me.

I felt a hand on my back. At first I tensed, and then I calmed. She and I, we were going to make it through this together.

I gazed over at the faded photograph. I watched as he walked slowly down the dirt path. He never turned and he never said good-bye. I purred softly at him, willing him to come back, to return to this life, but he turned a corner and with that he was gone.

Oblivious

Three heads gazed around their surroundings. They proved a menacing sight, guarding the house of their master. Their orange skin glowed in the sun while their black bands looked like chains holding them in place. Two of the heads seemed to be arguing with the third. There was hissing and spitting evident from a mile away.



The tile underneath me is hot and sticky. I can feel my scales glued to the surface. They are arguing again, I’ll stay out of it. Don’t bite me! No, I…My vision is blurring. The blue sky is caving into the green bushes. The tiles underneath me shift to dirt.



I open my mouth wide, my teeth are as sharp as daggers. The mouse is skittering around, but there is no where for it to hide. I close my jaw to skewer the mouse on my fangs. The mouse falters and my jaw clamps on air. I try again, I am waiting for that warm rush of blood in my mouth, the taste of hair and meat on my tongue.



The largest and fiercest looking head had a mouth that was spitting and frothing. It whipped around, snarling. Another head was trying to pull away from the main body of the runespoor. It was writhing, desperate to go somewhere, anywhere but here. The third head however, swayed merrily by itself. It opened its mouth wide and clamped its jaw on pure air.



It was hot once again, but not painfully hot as it had been before. The heat bakes my skin and I lay on a smooth rock. My eyes start to close, there is no need to stay alert here. I hear a thump of the waves against the shore. Sand flies up but does not reach me.



The most intelligent looking head, the one attempting to pull away from the others, started to strike the ground with its teeth. It seemed to be trying to lodge its teeth in the space between tiles. The mean head jeered at it with a skeptical look on its face. The spacey head merely rested itself on the floor and closed its eyes.



There is master. He is cooing over us in his private study. He strokes our backs but then becomes stern with us. He wants us to be fierce and ferocious. He wants us to scare and to anguish. I want to make master proud. I open my mouth and hiss in his face. He bares his teeth back, he is pleased.



The dreamy head bared its teeth and snapped its jaw. The other heads looked affronted. They hissed back, though not daring to come close enough to be severed by its teeth. The knowledgeable looking head had eyes that glinted in the sun. It strained to leave the rigid porch and venture into the garden beyond.



She flung out her tongue. I felt wetness splatter my face. It burned my eyes yet my stomach yearned for more. She snapped her teeth at me, three times, a mating call. I moved closer flicking out my own tongue. Her eyes were wide and they glowed yellow in the darkness.



Two heads seemed to be having an argument. There was a slit in the large vicious looking head's neck. Blood dripped down its neck. The other head leaned in to lap it up. The dreamy head was once again oblivious, a tongue flicked out of its askew mouth. The dreamy head looked fierce though slightly dazed. It's forehead was furrowed and its eyes remained closed.



It was silent. Pure bliss. No hissing or spitting. No teeth marks or loud fights. I was alone at last. I lay by myself in a foggy cloud. There was my body. There were no teeth marks or blood, but I was most definitely alone. I dared not open my mouth for one sound might ruin this heaven.



For a moment the dreamy head seemed to have died. It stayed stock still closing its eyes and mouth. The other heads seemed to realize its lack in movement for they paused as well. It was a moment of peace in the runespoor's life.



I flicked out my tongue. It felt as though a tooth had come loose and I needed to dislodge it from my mouth. As my tongue retracted from my mouth I saw that there was a small pale orange sphere on my tongue. I dropped it onto the ground quite unceremoniously. It cracked open and I watched three small mouths yawn and six little eyes blink to life.



The runespoor got up and moved haphazardly off the tiled porch. It seemed that two of the heads were pulling the third with them. The tiled steps scratched their back yet the dirt and grass seemed to calm them. Despite all the jostling the dreamy head never once awoke.



I fell into a mossy hole. I could see light far above my head. The hole was just snug enough to fit my full body comfortably. I curled up and rested my head on my tail. I could feel my eyes start to droop. I could feel heat resonating off my body.



I opened my eyes just a slit to allow the darkness to seep through my head. Not a tongue's length away were large yellow eyes. They glared at me through the darkness. I jumped and felt two weights attached to my neck. My heart sank. I looked around. There was the critic glaring and spitting my way. The planner was attempting to pull us up through the opening.



The runespoor reached up to the clouds. It was an odd sight. Two heads reached up towards the heavens while the tail rose with them. They arched in the sky like an upside down bow. One head hung limply by their side, a dead weight keeping them on the ground. The limp head snarled and jostled to one side and another. It twitched and sputtered emitting spouts of fury through the air.



The human descended towards us with a stick in its hand. Its eyes seemed to shoot fire in all directions. Its hand shook as it leaned closer to us. We had done something to offend him, but I couldn’t think what it was. I could almost hear the planner’s escape ideas rush through its head. The critic bared its fangs defending himself. I could feel that man’s hurt, his dreams that had perished. I could see the picture of a young boy rising to the surface of his mind. The boy’s features had blurred as though it was hard to remember. The man raised his hand and shouted indistinguishable words.



The dreamer seemed to be seizing up. It rocked this way and that, whimpering and gasping for breath. It froze in mid breath. It shook and then dove to the left. It opened its mouth and sank its fangs into the nearest bush.



His skin felt rough and course next to my teeth. I had subdued him, but not for long. He shook me off. I gaze up into the angry face and saw that it was master. I did not understand. He bellowed at me. He spat in my face and attempted to wrap his hands around me. He gesticulated and pointed towards his bloody leg, my vicious attempt to suppress him.



The runespoor moved away from the bush. The dreamy head looked afraid and the critic looked cynical. The planner continued to gaze off into the distance towards the places to which they might travel. In the setting sun their skin looked oddly green and eerie.



This was it, the end. I could no longer draw breath and I could feel water fill my mouth. My tongue floated upwards yet my body was falling down. Darkness was creeping up around the edges of my vision and pale blue light cascaded down from far above. My head started to spin and I felt as though someone was repeatedly beating my head. My body started to collapse into itself…



The dreamy head shook and then collapsed onto the pavement. The other heads looked slightly startled. The fall must have awakened the dreamy head for one after another its eyes opened and gazed around. It took in the sky which had turned black and the ground which had turned to dirt. It closed its eyes trying to escape back to the land of dreams, the only land where a solo head could have a personality of its own, aspirations of its own, a life of its own.



I felt a sharp pain somewhere around my midriff. I looked around confusedly. There was the planner and the critic once again attached to my neck. They were arguing. The critic seemed to have lodged itself into our joint body and did not seem to want to let go. I was back on solid, green earth. The sun had set and the stars twinkled and winked at me.



I closed my eyes, hoping to escape once again.

Why live one life when you can dream up two?

Real Happiness

It is hard to believe that this cross-eyed, hairy man had once been an innocent child strolling alone through these dense woods.

The story of his first sting has become something of Billywig folklore from being told over and over again in our tribe. The only Billywigs to actually witness it are either long dead or in an unstable condition. I believe that Abscondio was the one to return to our tribe and tell this exciting tale. That was a long time ago, for now Abscondio flies in larger and larger circles around our territory buzzing, ‘Happiness…freedom…courage…lost, LOST, LOST!’

Although his brain has been addled, his story lives fresh within all of us;
Effervo, a tribe worker was out gathering clouds to bring back to our tribe. You see, us Billywigs live for one thing. The food and drink that falls from the clouds. Long ago our ancestors waited days for the clouds to drop food for them. Many Billywigs starved when the food was delayed. Weak and starving Billywigs started to acquire wings that they now use to fly up and retrieve cloud food for the tribe.

Effervo was a worker, so it was his job to collect cloud food for our tribe. One day as Effervo started to rise towards the clouds, a human boy spotted him. Humans by nature have always been drawn to us. Whether they are attracted by our appearance or by our enticing powers we will never be sure. As this young boy made a snatch at Effervo, Effervo had only one choice. He had the choice of stinging the boy and protecting us, or being killed by the human touch. Mustering up his courage, he spun his wings together to propel forward at a high speed. He shot forward and sunk his long, light grey stinger into the boy’s upper arm.

Within minutes the boy’s scream of pain had changed into a dazed grin. Effervo barely made it back to his nest before he collapsed and died devoid of his stinger.

Abscondio flew back and told us the story at once. The boy had smashed bush and bramble with no thought for the cuts running across his legs. His eyes had glazed over like a Glumbumble during nesting season. His feet had lifted off the ground, levitating him up a few inches. He had been so thrilled, laughing and running around like a maniac.

It was an exciting story though many Billywigs forgot it within the next couple days. Many weeks later the boy returned. He stamped into our territory, looking for the short happiness and relief he had received.

Billywigs started to whisper about who he was. Abscondio was sure that this was the same boy that had killed Effervo. The wisest of our tribe had an inkling of why he was back but our small tribe had no power to subdue him.

They say that his eyes had streamed with cloud food. His body had slumped over like a hag. He had walked through our territory searching. The tribe had scampered. They hid everywhere they could think of. Their hiding places weren’t good enough. He found an old Billywig sitting inside its nest. This Billywig was so old that his skin sagged and his wings no longer propelled him upwards. With no mercy, the boy lifted the Billywig in his quaking hands. Upon contact with the boy, the old Billywig died. The boy raised its body above his head. A lopsided grin containing no happiness spread over his face. He stabbed a blue trail in his leg with the dead Billywig.

When he left that day he was smiling like a lunatic once again. There are not many Billywigs who will speak willingly of the time that followed this incident. The boy started to come more and more often. Our slowly diminishing tribe had the misfortune of watching this boy develop into a man.

I was born around the same time as when the boy’s face started to develop hair. By that time our population had been diminished by half.

I have never known a happy, functioning tribe. There are empty nests skirting around the edges of our territory. The cobwebs and spiders have gone. Our leaders have thought of leaving our territory but the tribe would not be able to survive a rebuilding. Happiness and excitement have not worked as weapons against the man’s evil and cruelty.

The man that stands before me now is almost unrecognizable. His eyes are almost closed and a sticky white dribble of cloud food is protruding from his mouth. His nose has almost completely deformed and the skin on his face has turned into an unnatural shade of grey. His body now looks like a number of twigs attached to one another. The weight he has lost is tumultuous.

He raises a hand, outstretching his fingers. He is grasping in mid-air, looking for his pleasurable victim of the day. His hand shakes fast and uncontrollably. He has a smile permanently glued on his face. The smile is no longer happy or pleased, it is merely stuck there. It is a learned smile, a smile of desire, a lie.

For the first time, I hear another pair of footsteps entering our territory. Daringly I raise my head to gaze at another man entering our clearing. He speaks to our man in people speech. Although I cannot understand them, I can feel the anger resonating off the new man. His white hair seems to crackle with fire and his loud voice pains my ears.

With a resounding crack the new man raises his hand and hits our man in the face. For the first time in months his feet hit the ground with a crunch. His eyes open fully. His face is not exactly surprised, but it is not thrilled as usual. He follows the new man out of our territory and the tribe as a whole lets out its collected breath.

I follow them outside, showing off my daring nature. I can hear buzzing behind me.

‘Stop her.’

‘Foolish young girl.’

“What is she thinking?’

‘lost, Lost, LOST!’

I follow close behind the humans as they walk to a nearby fire pit. They throw some stuff that looks like doxy eggs into the burning fire. The fire turns into a darker shade of grey and they jump in. I fly in after them. I came this far why turn back now. It is warm, very warm. I am having trouble breathing and I am spinning like a leaf caught in a whirlwind.

As my head starts to reel a horrible thought hits me. I will never again see my nest, never again help out the queen, never again deliver another baby. For you see I am a queen’s helper. To this date I have delivered three babies, two have been killed for the momentary happiness of this man.

As I think sadly about my tribe, my family, I am thrown rudely into a large forest clearing. There are no trees and no dirt. It is like nothing I have ever seen before. I feel very trapped in here. There is wood surrounding me on all sides and there are oddly shaped nests all over the place.

The man stands in an opening of flat wood. I fly behind his shoulder to gaze into the next clearing. There is a human with long dark hair sitting in the clearing by herself. She has dark grey circles under her eyes and she wearily bounces a crying baby on her knee. Her face is sunken and has many deep lines crisscrossing across it.

When she looks into the doorway she takes a deep breath. She seems to be trying to control herself. Her and the man exchange few words. He mumbles in low, confusing human speech and she raises her voice very loudly. She shoves the baby human into his arms.

The woman spots me behind him and her look of dislike and understanding deepens. He turns around and sees me lurking behind him. An evil smile lights up his face. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with the child in his arms. He reaches both hands towards me still grasping the child between them.

The woman swats down his outstretched, quavering arms. Before he can make a step towards me she reaches out her hand. I try to fly away as quickly as I can, but it is no use. Her hand burns against my skin and my vision starts to become foggy. Black shadows enter the outer edges of my vision. The woman hisses something at the man. Her eyes could have started another fire to get me back home.

She raises me up and my whole body starts to shake.
Her hand descends very slowly.
I cannot fight her.
My stinger is pointing straight down…why am I here?
I feel the warm rush of------

Shadows Under the Bed

I was born not from a mother and father, but from fear and darkness. Shadows are my brothers and terror is my home.

I had a painful and slow birth. It must have been three decades ago when violence and horror shaped my body and outlined my mind. I remember screaming human voices. There was a shrill laugh and shouts. A human calf cried out, while crashes and bangs could be heard. I could see nothing ahead of me except a white slab of light protruding from under a block of wood.

An odd feeling clutched my body. It sent tingles over my skin and my body changed from slimy wet air into pink soft skin. I could feel odd little rocks protruding from my mouth. I had been shocked and unable to right myself.

I lay alone in my secret alley for months. It wasn’t until the plump human mother gained a bit of confidence that I got a companion in my room. Every night I watched the small lump overhead toss and turn. One night I ventured out of my secure alley. The house was dark and still. I watched the calf sleep and felt something change within me. I could feel my skin start to change once again.

Slowly, I felt myself melt into a puddle of water. With no control over my body, I rose up and engulfed his tiny head. He struggled to wrench open his eyes. His whole body shook convulsively. I was sure that he was going to die and I let go of my grasp. I slipped onto the floor and slithered under his bed. I felt a twinge of remorse and I felt weak.

I did not leave hiding for almost four years. By then another bed had been added in the room. I was scared of what had happened, I was scared of what I did, but I was also scared of what I did not do. Humans caused me to change myself, and I was not sure how much I liked it. A need to escape filled my body.

I sailed to the center of the room, as far away from the beds as I could, but by the time I was there I had sprouted human legs. They were short and strong, covered with freckles. I gazed at the newer boy. He had pushed everything away from himself so that he slept merely with a small bit of cloth covering himself. It startled me to see that I was a living replica of him.

I ventured closer to the human, but as I did so I grew taller and wider. I had hair atop my head and a large piece of cloth covering my front half. The boy awoke with a shock and yelped. His eyes showed fear yet deep respect as well. I hardened my face and my hand flew out to smack him. He looked surprised and he screamed out in fright. I felt a pleasure at these unexpected actions on my part.

The calf hid in a corner of his bed and yelled. The older calf awoke with a start and I felt my legs shrink a little. I was still quite plump yet I had shrunken and lost many lines across my face and outstretched arms. It was as though my body could not decide. I shot back under my bed and huddled in a corner waiting for them to come looking for me.

They never found me and for that I was grateful. In the next few months, a very round woman peaked her head under the bed a couple of times, but she never saw me.

I made night trips more and more often in that room. The calves did not open their eyes again. Not a year later a new calf moved into the bed above me. He did not flail in his sleep as the old calf had. I visited him quite often for he did not upset me as the others had. He slept with his stomach facing the wall at all times. He never snored and did not wake during the night.

I was so intent on watching him that I did not realize what my body became when I was near him. I knew that I became a human, but I did not know which one I became.

He awoke one night when he was about six to see me watching him. He let out a high pitched scream that reverberated around the room. Water started to pour from his head and he covered his eyes.

I did not understand why everyone ran from me. I looked down and examined my long white fingers. They had blemishes covering them so closely that I could barely see any skin. I moved to a shiny, smooth thing covering part of the wall. I could see the sleeping calf, but he was standing just opposite me. When I moved my hand he moved his.

I jumped back confused. The calf was still in bed when I turned around. He started to yell and shriek probably to attract his parents’ attention. I used my new long fingers to clasp his neck and stop him from yelling. I could hear movements outside the door and I watched as the light started to get bigger. As it rose to hit me I dove under the bed, safe for now.

I was proud of what I had done. I was proud as I watched the lump of his body quiver and shake above my head.

I was excited when not one, but two new calves moved into the room the next day. It seemed that the calf I had scared so badly last night could not bare to stay any longer. The two new calves were identical and a bit younger than the last calf had been.

I listened to the sounds of running footsteps and yelling voices all that day waiting for the night when the fun would begin. When the calves finally descended into their beds, I waited, deciding which one I would wake up first. I chose the one that did not sleep over me. I walked over to his bed and felt my feet lift off the ground. I flapped my newly sprouted wings happily while soaring over and over his head.

I had not waited very long for them to fall asleep, because his eyes snapped open. His mouth fell open and I could almost feel him thinking, ‘I remember you!’ I could sense the dread behind his wide eyes. He was young, yet a Jobberknoll’s lament is not something that is easily forgotten. I crumpled into a heap on his bed and sang about loss, pain, and death. There were happy moments in my song, though these were missed amidst his sobs.

When the first calf ceased to amuse me, I moved onto the other boy. My body shrunk to the ground yet I was slinky and quick. I used my long tail to propel myself forward onto the bed. I scratched his face leaving deep marks on the side of his cheek. I hissed in his ear and walked on his stomach. Despite my attempts, he never once opened an eye.

I went back to my home disappointed with my night’s work. I had tried pain and yet he had fought back with indifference. This calf was strong and I could not get through to him. I once saw him open one of his eyes and shut it almost immediately as he caught my gaze. He was just as afraid of the rest of them, so why didn’t he give in?

The calf’s resistance pained me and drove me into despair. I attacked nobody for years. The two calves moved out and another calf moved in. He reminded me so much of the stubborn calf from before, that I dared not assault him. I moved with cautious limbs in his presence.

It wasn’t until a new type of human moved in that I ventured a midnight walk. This calf was older than the rest had been, though she looked weaker, more vulnerable. She resembled the others, but her fur flowed past her waist and her body was smaller and tighter.

When I went to examine her sleeping body, I found that I was lying headfirst on the ground, unable to move. There was a sharp pain on the back of my neck and liquid was shooting out. I heard a moan escape her lips and the pain evaporated. Pleasure overcame my body and I shivered with cruel pleasure.

After she noticed my shiver of enjoyment, she yelled something at me and stood with renewed defiance. She drew out a slab of wood and brandished it at me. Before I could make a move towards her, there seemed to be bats coming at me from all sides. They attacked me, gnawing my skin and bones. I shrunk to the size of a human baby and realized that she had power over me.

She picked me up and cooed over me. She brushed my hair with her fingers and played with my little toes. My insides started to flame as light fought darkness. I could feel the shadows retracting and the sun starting to rise. A ray of light hit my foot and it burned! I started to shrivel from the inside out, like a fig dying in the heat of the sun. The girl laid me on the ground and watched from a distance. With just one ounce of fear from her I would have been able to sustain myself.

She smiled at me as the flames engulfed me.

Tears

Like two huge puddles, her eyes shone with flowing water. I could see green and black specks bunched in a circle near the middle of both puddles. There was a white slab of light in which I could see myself, sitting there smugly on a band of pure gold.

I imagined myself drowning in those eyes. They looked so deep, as though I would fall forever. All eyes are different, just as all lakes are different as well. I noticed a piece of seaweed float to the surface, and I noticed that there was a sandbar near the edge of one eye.

The eyes started to move up and down in a slow procession. If I was not mute towards human speech, I imagine that they would have been speaking. A salt filled droplet escaped from the pond and sailed away. The shining eyes finally drew away from my face and drifted upwards towards the eyes of another.

Four eyes met and then drifted past one another in an invisible embrace. I was slowly lifted off my black velvet case and placed in a comfortable tight spot.

I traveled with the green eyes for many months. The eyes had ceased sprouting water, but every time they looked at me they widened with pride.

I remember gazing out at twenty eyes, all of them focused on me. I noticed dark brown eyes narrowed in dislike. Unlike the green eyes, these eyes seemed shallow, as though the bottom of the lake- the part filled with mud, had risen out.

The rest of the eyes staring up at me looked kind enough. There was a pair of eyes that housed tiny crow’s feet on either side. They looked so pleased and proud. They crinkled at the sight of my beauty. As hard as I tried, I could not stop studying the menacing brown eyes.

I tried to amuse myself with the pair of electric blue eyes which were not the same size, and the two pairs of violet eyes that were almost identical. There was a pair of eyes that changed colors as the light hit them differently. Each pair of eyes had a story, but the dark pair of eyes entranced me, because they seemed to possess a book.

That night was one of the best nights of my life. Instead of the humans pressing their noses up against my glass, they were laughing and stroking my crevices. They adored me and I adored them.

My novelty seemed to wear off after a while. Within months, attention was no longer drawn to me. I could still see the human’s eyes, but they no longer wanted to see me. Even the two green puddles, the ones who I thought had cared for me, avoided my gaze.

I was put into a dark box for many years. I was alone in that box, for these eyes owned only one piece of jewelry.

In an act of desperation the green eyes opened the box one late night. I was horrified at what had become of those once gorgeous ponds. The ponds had sunken in, as though they had become swamps, and they had dried up. There was no ripple in this pond. The seaweed had packed up and left. I noticed that mud and sand had developed around one of the eyes.

I saw blunt resentment in those eyes. I was a reminder of their past, of what they could have had. Their pain could not buy them much these days. It had been many years since I had been purchased. However, they would take me back to my homeland and juice their pain for as much money as could be mustered.

I was handed back over to the land of prying eyes and hot glass. I sat among my equals and became accustomed to the sounds of speech once again. The ones that I had once called friends annoyed me. Their rasping voices pierced my shell, while the fluorescent lights gave me chills. I could almost feel a crack starting on my spine.

The next day the eyes started to come. They examined me and my fellows as though at a petting zoo. They came so close that their lashes brushed the surface of my cage.

‘Pick me!’

‘Look at the crack on her backside, you really want me!’

The sound of the desperate pleading from my equals drove me insane. These humans would just mistreat them, deprive them, and return them, yet all my equals seemed to love humans.

Humans ignored us, pretending that we were inanimate objects, unable to think or feel. They hurt us with no mercy.

I know that deeply in their hearts, they knew that we were alive as well. They knew that we could imagine and sense just as much as they could, and that is why they were always so deeply attracted to us.

As my thoughts drifted away, a human walked in with his eyes nervously downcast. His pupils were shaking like mad. I felt myself being lifted from my safety behind the glass. Please don’t take me, please, you don’t want me, I thought.

As we left the store, I was jumbled and shaken so much, that I almost broke. For the second time in my life, I was lifted up in a small black box towards a pair of eyes. These eyes did not become puddles of love or ponds of happiness as the other eyes had. These eyes stared down at me and became familiar slits. I remembered those eyes from a long time ago. I thought the darkness of these eyes might consume me if I stared any longer.

Before I could move my gaze, her eyes crinkled and a slab of white light overpowered the extreme darkness. She lifted me up and placed me on. Her gaze almost seemed…loving?

Amazing how love and a sweet surprise can change hard rocks to fountains of joy.