All the birdies fly back and forth, 

back and forth, and up and down, 

All the birdies fly all around until they have to stop. 

Birdies. Birdies chirping above, twirling in the air. Wisps of fog surround them like a blanket. Each a different color. Blue, black, gray, red. Birdies. All welcoming each other, playing together. Why can’t we be like the birdies? 

Birdies. One coming right towards me, towards the glass window that shields the lucky world from being swallowed by the gaping jaws of monotony, of school. Birdie, go up, up! Don’t hit yourself. See the window. My eyes were shut closed, awaiting the thunk of the birdie hitting the window. 

It never came. 

It went back to the others and they welcomed it. Lucky birdie. I scan the ghastly classroom filled with people. Judgy people. Mean people. Fake people. People who pretend they are my friends, but mock me the second I turn around. They help me up when I fall, only to push me back down again. They make this classroom that is only a wall away from a lovely world a monstrosity. A place that sucks up six hours of my life and too much of my happiness. 

Why can’t we be like the birdies? 

That thought trails behind me everywhere I go. Why can’t we be like the birdies? I go to another class filled with the same glares. Why can’t we be like the birdies? I step out into the sun, basking in the rays, relief filling me as I turn to look at the vile building that loomed behind me.  Why can’t we be like the birdies? People group together with friends, never turning to look at me. The invisible me. Why can’t we be like the birdies?

 It’s night now. The sounds of parties mock me as I slam the window shut. Why can’t we be like the birdies? It is the time the birdies sleep. It is when the light is stolen by the inky black cloud of darkness. It is when the glaring light from the lamp that penetrates the darkness is finally shut. By habit, I reach out for my phone, pressing play. The whispers slowly filled my room as my eyelids droop down, finally protecting me from the real world. 

The whispers follow me in my dreams, reassuring me, taking care of me. They murmur the soft, sweet words that fill my lonesome heart. Every night, these whispers speak to me, crooning soothing words. 

“You are not alone.” 

“It is not your fault.” 

“ I think you’re a good person.” 

Every day the whispers slowly die down, muted once the playlist stops. But that day was different- that day…. the whispers were still going. The sun began peeking its head above the horizon, the birdies fluttering around in the crisp autumnal air. That was the day the whispers never stopped. 

I turned towards my phone, reluctantly aiming to turn off the whispers; it was out of battery. The playlist needed to have stopped. But it didn’t. The whispers kept going, humming the same words over and over. The words once filled with sweet, enchanting thoughts now were cold- as if they were mocking me. 

The sun’s light was slowly suffocated by the dark clouds impending outside. It became dark again, my eyes attempted to adjust to the darkness, but I couldn’t see. 

The whispers continued. I clenched my fists, closing my eyes as murmured words of comfort to myself, attempting to drown out the emotionless stream of words. But the whispers grew louder, louder. 

“You are the only reason you’re alone.” 

“It’s your own fault,” 

“Stop being so selfish, you are not the only one like this.” 

In. Out. In. Out. Don’t listen to them, don’t. Think of the birdies. My eyes yearned to see once more, flying open, only to become petrified at the sight of a silhouette standing at the corner of the room. It was a woman. Cadaverous and frail, she was stripped of humanity. Time had robbed her skin of its warmth, leaving behind only the sickly pale marks that decorated her crumbling flesh. Spindly arms were attached to her body, barely able to carry the weight of her skeletal hands that were clasped together, claw-like. Her head, a patchwork of black scabs, was tilting to the left, threatening to snap off in any second. Long, tangles of hair fell over her face, veiling the decayed face underneath. Sunken, black eyes that blended with the darkness were glaring at me with a sinister gaze. Her thin lips kept moving, spewing out the tainted whispers. 

My breath came out in ragged gasps. I needed to leave. Needed to run- go anywhere. My body struggled to move, a weight slowly pressing down on me. Harder, harder! The whispers were getting louder, closer. The woman parted her cracked lips in an evil grin, revealing the black, vile gums speckled with the few remaining yellow teeth she had. 

My eyes were the only thing that could move, scuttling up and down, back and forth, trying to look anywhere except towards the woman. I finally slammed my eyes shut, begging- praying- that the whispers would leave. But they didn’t. 

I needed to focus on something, something other than the whispers. My heart-beat. It was the only steady thing left within me. Deep breaths, listen to your heart. 

Ba boom. Ba boom. Ba boom. 

I listened, listened for my heartbeat, but it transformed into footsteps. Footsteps that sounded like they were coming closer. They couldn’t be hers. They couldn’t. The pressure on my chest became stronger, pushing down on me harder than before. The whispers coming from one side, footsteps from the other, everything closing in on me. I couldn’t! I couldn’t!

And then they stopped. 

Utter silence filled the room. It was worse than before. The whispers were gone, the thing pushing on my chest...gone. The footsteps...as if they were never there. Everything was gone. Not even the birdies were chirping.  It was as if someone had torn all the sounds from the room.

It was too silent. 

Like the eye of a hurricane. 

My body tensed up, alert                                                                         nothing came. 

My courage began to build up within me, bit by bit. I slowly opened my eyes, sucking in the stagnant air with quiet breaths. 

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, a plea floated amongst the flood of thoughts within me. A plea for her to have disappeared along with the whispers. Yet there she was, a malicious laugh escaping her. The woman’s inky eyes stared at me, challenging my courage, seeing if I would escape the invisible cage I had made for myself. 

I slowly cowered away, back inside the transparent bars of my own jail. A familiar, ill noise echoed around the room, the start to a tsunami of sounds. One by one, they returned. First the footsteps, then the pressure, and then the whispers. 

Like the waves of a tsunami, constantly slamming down on the shore- onto me. I needed to escape-I had to!- this time. Summoning the last shards of courage, I pushed against the pressure crushing down on me until I stood up. 

And I ran. 

Ran as fast as I could. Out of my room, out of the house and into the streets that were slowly becoming speckled with people. I didn’t care. I didn’t care that heads were turning at the sight of an adolescent girl sprinting with her pajamas still on. I didn’t care. All I needed was for the whispers to leave me, for the woman to leave. I needed to go- go somewhere far away from all this. I looked up at the birdies, they seemed to be following me, their chirps adding onto the roaring waves that were crashing down behind me. I sprinted as far as I could. Not stopping even when my breath was coming out in tired gasps. Not even when the sharp jolt of pain began attacking me on my sides. Not even when the throbbing in my head began to pound viciously, attempting to burst out of my head. 

 I kept going. 

The sounds kept following after me, the pain eating at my strength. The sounds, the pain, the sounds, the pain. The sounds. The pain…The sounds….The pain…….The sounds…………..The pain…………..

I needed to stop. 

Reaching a park, I crumpled down on a bench, grasping at all the strength I had left, inhaling deep breaths. They had to be gone now, they couldn’t have come this far. I closed my eyes just for a brief moment, a moment of silence. 

Then I opened them, locking my eyes that betrayed my exhaustion with her’s. The sun slowly escaping the cloud’s grasps shone light onto her eyes, showing the inky depths of its dark ocean. 

A wail arose from me, “Just leave me!” Heads spun, watching us. “Why can’t you just leave me alone!” 

Murmurs jumped from one person in the park to another, examining me as if I was mad. Me, mad? Ha! 

“Can’t you guys see- can’t you see her?” I stood up, wildly looked around into the confused faces of the onlookers. “Help me! The woman- she’s- she’s- she’s going to-,” I begged, desperation seeping into my voice. I was ignored, a man began to speak. 

“Ignore her,” He said, turning to the crowd, “she’s just a mad child that wants attention. She’s one of those kids.” 

“No! Wait!” My protests were drowned out by the talk of the crowd. “Can’t you guys hear them, too?” The people looked at me, eyes betraying confusion. “The sounds! The-the footsteps, the whispers. Can’t-can’t you hear them?” 

The people stared at me as if I was deranged. Mothers dragged their children away, men turned around. I silently cursed at all of them- cursed at the woman. Of course, they wouldn’t see her, because that’s how wretched this world is. A sea of people with a shark that only one can see. 

The whispers kept going. The woman flashed her yellow teeth at me, releasing an evil snarl. I was done with this. Done! I just couldn’t do this anymore. I sat on the bench, my eye catching on a figure laying on the ground. A dead birdie. Even the birdies had left me. 

I made my mind. Standing, I walked towards the woman, her vile body seemed less horrid now, but I was done. I didn’t care anymore. Go ahead, I thought, do what you want.

Maybe we were like the birdies. Chaos and disarray could surround you until you had to stop.  Maybe we were like the birdies. Maybe we were….

                                      ......

Onlookers turned towards the girl in pajamas writhing on the ground as if fighting herself. The gasps coming from each of the civilians were subdued as a shrill scream erupted from the adolescent girl. Tearing at herself, she rolled on the ground, mud splattering on her yellow pajamas. Suddenly, the girl began grasping at her throat, as if someone was choking her. Her last breaths released a flood of agony, her final words leaving the onlookers in a sea of confusion. 

“Maybe we were like the birdies. Maybe we were...” 

All the birdies fly back and forth, 

back and forth, and up and down, 

All the birdies fly all around until they have to stop.