Random Scarian Drabbles

6:1

He hummed to himself as he ran the vacuum over the carpet. He never minded doing chores. Especially if he was being paid. Scar was glad he was able to work like this; going to people’s places and cleaning up after them for a good amount of money. He was like a butler. He was currently at Mrs. Zim’s house, a regular for him. While she was out doing whatever she did during the day, he was cleaning up; dusting, sweeping, moping, etc. He had air pods in and was listening to the radio through his phone. He looked outside the kitchen window noticing a group of people heading to the neighbors’ house. He would have headed over as well, but he had a job to do.

“Did you hear the news?” “I don’t think I did, Mark. What’s going on?” “Well apparently a small town has captured an angel.”

An angel? Scar thought. How could they manage that?

“An angel you say? Where did you hear news like that?” “A family member near there phoned me and told me it crashed down.” “You say it crashed? Where is this small town anyway?” “Yeah, she told me it crashed. It’s in Sunflower Falls.”

Wait. Sunflower Falls? Did he hear that right? Sunflower Falls is where he lived and where he was right this second. The temptation to see what the crowd was about increased significantly. He had to remind himself that he needed to complete the job. He was anxiously waiting to go out and see this angel.

By the time he finally finished, he was bouncing with excitement at the thought of seeing an actual angel. He was walking over to the Smith’s house where the crowd had grown quite a bit. He was close enough to hear the people murmuring to each other.

“Why isn’t he moving?” “Did he die from the fall?” “He’s already dead, idiot!” 

He looked over their shoulders at the creature. Its wings were matted and muddy, same as its hair. It only took a quick look to know it was, in fact, not an angel but an avian. The avian was curled in a small ball of mud and was being pecked at by the chickens in the coop it was in. He found himself closer to the avian and kneeled to its level. He felt a wave of sympathy wash over him as the creature locked eyes with him. The poor avian wouldn’t be able to find help if people believed it to be an angel.

The priest had arrived. “Excuse me. Coming through.” People moved off to the side, letting the priest and Mr. Smith walk past. Mr. Smith opened the door to the coop, allowing the priest to the ‘angel’.  “Hello there.” The priest spoke in Latin. The creature looked confused causing Scar to believe it didn’t know the language. The priest continued to stare at the creature with a dissatisfied look on his face. He left the coop without another word and was quickly followed by Mr. Smith and a few others. Scar planned to talk to the avian tonight when everyone had left. So, he left, heading home to feed his cat, Jellie, and take a nap.

It was 11:45 and he was ready to sneak over. He had already formed an alibi for himself and planned to use it if needed. The night was dark, and it provided him with cover from anyone who happened to be walking by. He made sure to walk normally as if it wasn’t the middle of the night.

Once he made it to the Smiths’, he looked around and after convincing himself he wasn’t being watched, he walked into the yard. The avian was still curled around itself, but this time its wings were sprawled out on the ground. 

“Hello,” Scar’s voice was a gentle whisper that made the avian look up. He offered it a kind smile. “What happened to you?” Its eyes were a beautiful blue that was dulled by its pain. He realized now, the creature would have been given anything to eat or drink, so he pulled a bottle of water from his pocket, handing it out to the avian. “Here. Take it. I don’t have any food on me, but I could try to get you something tomorrow night.” The avian took the bottle, drank it quickly. 

Once he was finished, he spoke; “Why...? Why are you here?” “I know you’re not an angel. You’re an avian. And I figured no one would think to give you anything.” They stared at each other in silence for a few moments. “I’m Scar, you?” It stayed silent for a bit longer. “Grian.” “What do you like to eat? I can go get something now or wait for tomorrow, whichever you’d like.” The avian seemed to be weighing his options. “Sunflower seeds,” the avian choked out, barely loud enough for Scar to hear. “Now or later?” Scar’s voice remained calm and patient as he talked to the muddied avian. “I want out...” There was desperation in his voice that Scar couldn’t ignore. He sighed. “I’ll come for you tomorrow night. I’ll buy you the seeds and sneak you out. Just hang on a little longer.” Grian seemed to understand and handed Scar his bottle. Scar got up and headed to the store where he bought sunflower seeds.