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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1876317-The-Raven
by Fletch
Rated: E · Short Story · Drama · #1876317
A boy, a Raven and an afternoon.
The afternoon started out wonderful and comfortable. The sun was out, with just a splash of small puffy clouds here and there. The meadow was lush and the old tree was looking rather majestic as he approached it.
The memories Aaron and his father had here would always be his. Even now, when he left school for the day, he would stop by here and just remember.
As he approached the tree, he noticed a black shape on the top branch. He couldn’t figure it out until he got closer and realized it was a raven. So beautiful, yet so frightening, he found himself in awe, unable to move, completely captivated by the bird.
Then he remembered what his dad said to him, just before passing away. How he had seen a raven on the tree, and then had his accident. How the raven was right there until the ambulance and police arrived.
He recalled seeing a black shape at the funeral, but shrugging it off. He now wondered if this was the same bird. His heartbeat began to race; his stomach was suddenly in knots. He slowly began to back away from the tree, and then he turned and ran to the edge of the field where his car was, tears streaming down his face, fear finally catching up to him and gripping his heart in a clenched fist.
He started the car and slammed it into drive. He was just about to hit the accelerator when the raven landed on the hood. It stared right at him, making his heart jump and his stomach fall, all at the same time.
His foot still on the brake, his hands holding the steering wheel as tightly as possible, he let the tears come again.
“Why?” he screamed, “Why are you after me now?”
The tears were coming harder; his breathing came in gulps of air.
“Why did you take my dad, why are you after me?” He cried, “Can’t you just leave me alone?”
His foot had slipped off the break without his realizing it; the car was now in motion. It began to gain speed, but he wasn’t even aware of the movement, as he could only focus on the raven. He could only focus on the beauty and those eyes. They bore into his soul; they could see what he was thinking. They were calling to him to look, to seek. He focused on those eyes so hard, he only saw those eyes.
“Stop!” he heard the raven screech and without thinking he slammed his foot onto the break. The tires skidded on the asphalt. His head jerked forward and hit the steering wheel and when he looked up, the raven was gone. The car he almost hit sat parked, mere inches from his.
He never saw that raven again, but he heard of others who did. He knew he would again someday, but he hoped it would be when he was very old.
© Copyright 2012 Fletch (dfletcher2012 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1876317-The-Raven