I was scared. I was really scared. Black birds had surrounded my house and were trying to get in. I heard them scratching at the window, pecking at the door, trying to get me. Although all the windows had been covered, I knew they were there.
It was best that I stayed inside for the time being. I’d taken to living in the sitting room and kitchen. There was no need for me to go upstairs. It was easier staying downstairs, near the doors, in case I needed to leave in a hurry. Although I was scared, I was fairly sure I’d made the house safe. I didn’t think they could get in. I burnt a fire in the hearth night and day just in case they tried to come in down the chimney. They were very clever. Especially that crow. The one that sat out there, waiting.
To begin with I was worried about how I’d survive. There was no way I was going to leave the house. But the Internet had been my saviour. I had everything I needed delivered to my door. I hadn’t left the house for nearly three weeks but thankfully anything I wanted could be ordered online.
The phone kept ringing so I unplugged it. I’d spoken to my mother a while before. She’d said she thought I should get away and go and visit a friend. I told her I was too busy but that everything was fine. She seemed to believe me and stopped bugging me. I just wanted to be left alone. No one knew what I was going through. They could never understand what was happening to me. Even I was struggling to understand it.
If I ever required some company I put on the television or played some music. It had been good spending time alone. I’d been able to think properly about Tom and Josh and about everything that had happened. It was clear to me. I was being punished. Losing everything was my punishment. The crow was there to make sure I got what I deserved. It watched my every move and made sure I didn’t escape my fate.
My denial was futile. Now that I could see why this had happened I felt more at peace. I was a bad person, a horrid nasty woman who did not deserve to have a family. Losing my womb was nature’s guarantee that I could not pass on my poison to a child. Josh was lucky, I suppose. That was what the crow thought. It killed him to protect him from me. The bird wasn’t a demon. It was a protector. It wanted to protect Tom too.
I had come to accept this as the truth. I got what I deserved and now that everything I loved had been ripped away from me. I had nothing left, nothing except self-hatred and fear for my own pathetic life. Why didn’t it just kill me? Why end their lives? I should have died in that car, not them.
I’d done lots of research. I was now an expert on crow mythology. I knew all about them. To overcome one’s enemy one needs to familiarise oneself with it. I had done that and discovered some amazing things.
Many legends across the world suggest that crows were once white. Thus, crows have always featured in the fight of good versus evil. That fact alone only helped to prove my suspicions. Jewish law considered the raven to be unclean and the Egyptians believed that crows represented monogamy, since they are monogamous birds. To see a single crow is therefore meant to be a bad omen, as I well know.
Crows seem to have crept into language too. Crow’s feet, meaning the signs of age, are commonly used, and then of course there is the term crow’s nest. Although it is reported that the term came into use because crows build their nests at the top of trees, I learnt that it was also likely that the term referred to the observation tower as a clairvoyant’s position. Again, that fact suggested that the birds were connected with prophecy. But what was the bird trying to tell me? It appeared to me after the accident. What could it possibly be trying to warn me of now? The worst had already happened.
I also read that crows were considered notorious thieves. They would steal meat left as offerings to the gods and eat the bodies of the dead left behind after battles. They seemed to be linked with death throughout history. I learnt that ravens would peck out the eyes of dead soldiers and then remove the brains from the socket holes. The thought of this made me shudder.
During the Great Fire of London, it was reported that flocks of crows and ravens came to London to feast on the burnt bodies. The people at the time were frightened, and with the blessing of the king set about killing huge numbers of them and destroying their nests. The more I read, the more my head spun. Superstition seemed to follow crows around.
The bodies of the poor souls left hanging on the gallows were famous for attracting crows. ‘Ravenstone’ became known as the name of the block that criminals were beheaded on. The more I learnt, the more I feared for my safety. But what I came to realise is that although corvids often foretold tragedy, they were never the cause of it. This left me wondering.
In Native American folklore the crow was a shape shifter. Supposing they were right, could it have been Josh trying to communicate with me somehow?
Then I was distracted from my train of thought. Oh shit, what was that noise? Scrabbling outside the front of the house. I could hear it getting closer. I needed to protect myself. I wasn’t safe. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a knife, the biggest one I could find. The noise was still there. I could hear it right by the front door. Whatever it was, it sounded large. My heart was racing; I could hear the blood pumping in my ears. My hand shook as I clutched the knife that glinted under the electric light. I had my back to the wall and I slowly edged closer as I waited for something to come bursting through the wood. Curiosity had a hold of me as I carefully peeled away some newspaper from the glass in the front door. BANG, BANG, BANG! I jumped out of my skin. I fell to the floor and dropped the knife. It wasn’t the bird. It couldn’t be. I could see the silhouette of a man at the door. I recognised the blue coat. It was my postman. Gingerly, I got up. My hip was sore. I unlocked the three bolts I’d had put on the front door and opened it up just enough to be able to receive my post. The postman looked at me strangely.
‘You need to sign for this.’
He handed over a long package. My hand was still shaking as I signed on the electronic pad. Then I moved back into the house, closed the door behind me and fastened the locks again. My heart was still racing but I felt safer. I took some deep breaths and steadied my nerves. Then I moved into the kitchen and put the package down on the table.
If I hadn’t opened the door I would not know it was light outside, I’d grown so accustomed to living in the darkness. Electricity and the fire provide me with the light I needed. I had come to realise what it must be like to live in Alaska. Daylight isn’t something I missed. I liked the cocoon of the darkness.
I wished I could stop shaking. Suddenly I felt I needed a drink. I went into the sitting room and poured a large brandy into a crystal tumbler. Drink had become my friend – It soothed and helped me pass the hours. Tom would have strongly disapproved but I was beyond redemption. He cannot judge me anymore. Only the crow can do that.
The drink was warm and sweet. I held it in my mouth and allowed the flavour to penetrate my gums. It was helping to calm me. Then I remembered the package and went back into the kitchen.
A long slim shape lay on the table wrapped neatly in brown paper. My hands only trembled a little and I could undo the packaging. When I got into it, I could see what it was. It had arrived sooner than I anticipated. I’d only ordered it the previous morning. I realised I was excited as I removed it. It was lighter than it looked. I held it in my hands. The walnut and metal were almost beautiful. Then I raised it and pointed it at the clock on the wall. I pulled the trigger but nothing happened. The gun was not loaded.