Desolate-Chapter 1

I've never really liked people in general.

Occasionally, I'd hear someone talk about the greatness of humanity, but I haven't seen it. All I've seen are the terrible things people can do. I've seen their insensitivity; their selfishness; their cruelness.

But I guess it's easy for me to feel these things, since I'm not even human myself anymore.




I was perched on a high tree branch overlooking an empty plain, my eyes scanning to grass below for prey. But right now, I wasn't able to focus for some reason. My sight drifted to the horizon, where the sun was setting. I heard the distant sounds of civilization; traffic, or people cheering. A while back, I might've been a participant in these activities. But now I was just a spectator.

Sometimes I felt like I was just watching my own life go by; not thinking of what I did, just doing what I needed to survive. Flying, or hunting, or preening my feathers. The rest of the time was spent in timeless solitude. No one else would've been able to live like me. Humans strive for more than survival, whereas survival is all an animal cares about. A human wouldn't be able to stand doing just the bare minimum to get by; they need entertainment, interaction. But I could handle it.

Not to say that I always thought of nothing. Occasionally my mind would drift into the dim past, and I would wonder what I'd be like if I never left, what everyone else was doing with their miserable lives. What the people I had actually cared about were doing, all one of them.

And as quickly as these thoughts arose, they sbsided, and I was back to flying, hunting, feeling cold and hateful all over. But recently I was starting to dwell on things a lot more. Sometimes I'd sit in a tree like I was now, and just think about people in general, and their faults.

Now the sun was starting to slip beneath the horizon, as the light left the sky. I was still sitting on the branch. So much for hunting time wasted, and now it would have to wait until morning. For now, stared at the city, its lights outshining the night, refusing to go to sleep. I could hear cars honking and people laughing and talking, although just faintly, as night took over the city in its own way.

And here, the sound of an owl hooting as it woke from its daylight slumber, ready to catch its breakfast under a dark veil. The sound of the crickets chirping, and coyotes howling. We had our own nightlife, although everything we did was necessary. Unlike what was going on in the city, where people did things for no reason. But out here, the night sounds were making me tranquil, as my eyes became heavy.

What is everything there worth? What is the point of it all? Are you going to keep tormenting me with your imparities?