The Hands of Blackbirds

Chapter I

The city blinked like an airport landing strip as I stumbled around the rooftop six stories above the pavement. Except there wasn't a plane landing. There'd just be me, landing at the steps of the building far, far below. The view of the world seemed to stretch on forever. I felt the cycle of thoughts push in; Millions of people who aren't fat pieces of shit like me. Who knows what they want out of life? Who has it together? Why am I the only one who doesn't know what the fuck to do with my life? I just need a reset.

My balance wasn't great to begin with, and stepping up onto the ledge would mean a one-way ticket over the railing and onto the pavement. Sam was right. I'm not...beautiful. Not a woman, I'm barely a person. My body shook angrily at the memory. WHY DID HE HAVE TO POST THOSE PHOTOS OF ME FOR EVERYONE TO SEE!? The remainder of everyone's pitying or uncaring looks was too harsh for my mind to recall.

The air was stagnant and humid, like its suffocation was trying to tempt me further over the edge. I took a hesitant step forward. The air current twirled tendrils of my hair upward to the sky, but my eyes were trained on ground.

Only a simple metal pipe was serving as a guard between my choice of freedom, or continued confinement. If only they knew how ridiculous this railing was for safety. Resting my clammy hands on the metal, it was cool amidst the heat of the setting sun. Hoisting my large leg, my arms were shaking for me to hop up over the metal. Unsuccessful in my second and third time to pull myself up, my feet were itching to catapult me over in, probably the first time ever, successful sprint.

I can't even get my fat fucking ass over this ledge. I peered at the clouds above, illuminated in spotlights of pinks and violets, feeling a calming sensation tingle through my hands and feet. I sighed in defeat, I can't do this. Not tonight at least.

Arching my back and tipping my head to the sky, I screamed at top decibel, "...FUCK!"

"Fuck? Fuck me?" My body coiled tightly in fear, "Or am I fucking you? I'm telling you now, this cement has no shock absorption, our joints would feel it tomorrow..."

My hands froze on the pipe, feeling chills where the humidity's touch had been gripping me.

Seconds ago I'd been settled on ending my life, but being potentially assaulted was pretty sobering. Slowly turning around, my mouth dropped straight through all sixty-seven floors of my apartment building.

I was expecting a man, not sure what kind of man...but a man nonethless. What I was not prepared for was whatever was standing in front of me, glowing and charred like a campfire ember.

Wings like tattered pieces of cloth were pulsating fiery veins through it with the same fiery embers as its exagerated humanesque body. Where I suppose human eyes laid, were blacked out except for two white circles sitting in the middle like pupils, flakes of ash flittered away from its face as it quirked an eyebrow (or lack there of) at me.

"Isn't it fairly obvious why I'm here, Drew?" His long claws poised on a chin with glowing markings, as he tilted his smoking head at me, only now did I realize he had two curling horns sprouting from his head and a third smaller one from his forehead, all of which had a tiny flame burning in them. I was mesmerized and likely in shock. "I'm kind of concerned you seem so shocked to see me." He waited, but I said nothing.  I was physically incapable of speaking. In exasperation, he pointed to the ground, "You were about to take a one-way trip to the street." He shook his head at me like it was obvious, "This shouldn't be that shocking, it was maybe 2 minutes ago, I know humans are THAT stupid."

My brain clicked back into place. This time, my shrieking cry wasn't voluntary, "OH MY GOD!" I reached for the railing and gripped for dear life as the burning creature floated towards me, its feet charred and taloned like a predatory bird. Fear was paralyzing me, my heart pulverizing my chest and choking the air in my lungs as I squeezed my eyes shut.

The sound of sizzling skin was in my ears and getting closer as I felt the heat from its body press into my own and come near to my face. My body froze, my eyes stayed welded shut. Don't look! You didn't jump, this isn't Hell. Don't look, you're not damned yet. I started pleaing in a string of struggled words, "I'm not dead. This isn't real. Please let this be a dream. I swear I'll never do this again if it's a dream. Don't let this be HELL!"

The creature's voice was mere inches away as it murmured, "No, this isn't Hell...not yet. I'll be back, venas meae."

Did it sound like it was kind of upset?

At once, the sounds around me paused in a defeaning silence.

Peeking one eye open, I was met with the ceiling of my bedroom, the morning sun bouncing off my white walls hurt my eyes. I squinted around to make sure I wasn't dreaming. The overflowing bookshelf, the desk with all of my clients files for the agency, and my dying plant still sat sadly on the windowsill looking out to the city of Minneapolis bustling across the river. This doesn't feel like a dream.

Pullling the covers from my body, my clothes were different from what I remember wearing last night, which means I had come home and changed?

My feet shuffled over the warping hardwood floors and into the cold tiled bathroom off of my room. My overweight reflection was unchanged and my body slumped in relief.

"Ok, I'm not fucking nuts. That's a good sign! I just need to...take a shower and get some air. Yup, and buy the biggest, most caffinated drink I can get." My voice wavered with uncertainty.

Stripping out of my clothes, which smelled faintly of smoke, I avoided making eye contact with my body as I finished pulling off my bra and underwear. I didn't want the thoughts that put me on the roof in the first place, to come flooding back. Or was that a dream? My will power was close to none and I gave into my resistance to look. I snuck a glance at myself and the pit in my stomach got heavier.

Tanned skin marred by stretch marks zigzagging around me, self harm marks, and overflowimg with rolls of fat and skin. My stomach felt uneasy and I stared at my face, unaffectedly round. Don't think negatively. You are someone important. I tried to stay postive, but the thoughts poked in. Who would think you're important? Your mom? She's forced to, Drew! Sam could stomach fucking you once, and made sure everyone saw the video and photos along with it.

Narrowing my eyes, I scrutinized my face and feeling my eyes begin to water. I was about to spiral down when I spotted a dark spot on my neck. Leaning over the sink, a nervous squeal escaped.

"What the fuck is that?!"