Fake Scenarios In My Head #38

Fake Scenarios In My Head #38

Click. Bright light flooded the bedroom as Casey flipped the switch on her side of the bed.

"Alex!" she whispered, gently nudging the spot where she suspected her girlfriend's shoulder was under the covers. "Alex, are you awake?"

A faint murmur came from the cocoon of blankets. She was ... awake would have been an exaggeration.

"Alex," Casey repeated more urgently this time. "It's important."

"Case ..." Alex's voice sounded sleepy and already on the verge of anoyance. "If you're not dying or there's a fire ..." The rest was lost in the pillow as she stretched and flipped the light switch next to her nightstand.

Click. Darkness.

Three seconds of silence. Peace. Almost enough for Alex to fall back into her well deserved sleep.

Click. Light. Mercilessly bright again.

"So ... did you know that crows can memorize faces?" Casey asked, ominous excitement in her voice.

2:46 a.m., Alex realized as she peeked at the alarm clock with one eye. She immediately regretted opening her eyes. Way too bright. Way too awake. Way too Casey.

She exhaled heavily, sounding suspiciously like someone desperately clinging to the last shred of mental stability.

"Casey, I swear to God ..."

"No! really, listen," Casey insisted, and Alex felt the mattress shift as her girlfriend sat upright.

"They recognize faces. Even years later. And they hold grudges. Like little winged mobsters."

It took Alex a few seconds to process the informatio. Then she slowly turned around, shielding her eyes from the bright light she blinked at Casey. Jittery, wide awake, full of expectation.

"Did a crow look at you funny today?" Alex asked hoarsely.

"I don't know!" Casey blurted out. A little too quick, a touch too guilty. Neither was a good sign.

"Maybe ... Well there was one at the courthouse, and I ... maybe I walked through her group a little … too fast. Not rude! Just ... efficient."

Click. Lights out. Alex turned around. Darkness. Silence.

Click. Casey wasn't finished.

"I read that they teach their children who to hate. Like ... a feathered feud. Over Generations. What if I'm Johnny Sack now, and the Soprano Crow family has marked me as their nemesis?"

Alex groaned into her pillow. "No crow is planning a vendetta against you."

"But what if they are?" Casey scooted a little closer.

"So! Did you know that a group of crows is called a murder? That's not even subtle!"

Click. Darkness.

Alex's voice came muffled from the pillow.

"I'm about to commit one ... on an overdramatic prosecutor if she won't let me sleep."

Click. Light on.

"They mourn Alex. For their dead! They hold real funerals! Or maybe they're investigating what or who killed their friend."

"Did you kill a crow?" Alex mumbled, barely audible.

"No! Of course not!" Casey almost sounded a little offended. Then, after a short pause:

"They bring presents, too. Shiny things. Or dead mice. That's either affection ... or a threat. What if I find a dead mouse tomorrow? Is that a gift or a threat?!"

Alex sat up. Her hair tousled, the eyes narrowed to slits and her voice low and dangerously calm.

"Honey" she said with a resigned sigh, "if a crow really does put a decapitated rat on your windshield then ... we'll deal with it tomorrow."

"But what if tomorrow's too late?" Casey whispered.

Alex flopped back onto the bed with a groan, pulling the pillow back over her head. With her arm she fumbled for the light switch.

Click. Light off.

Click. Light on.

"Plus! They can solve puzzles! REAL puzzles! They practically have their own escape rooms. They think ..."

"... so they're intelligent, petty and vindictive," Alex interrupted tonelessly.

"Exactly!" Casey breathed "They are me. In bird form!"

Alex peeked out from under the pillow with one eye.

"That's the most accurate … and terrifying thing you've said all night."

Click. Lights out. Silence.

Click.

"And magpies! Did I tell you about magpies?"

"CASEY!"

Click.

"Okay, okay! Lights stay off. But ... maybe we should get crow masks. Just to be on the safe side."

No answer.

"Alex?! Are you asleep?"

All that came in response was a muffled, resigned murmur from the pillow.

"I'm going to start wearing earplugs."