Tree of crows (Five minutes freewrite)

marie-jay (61)in #freewrite • 6 years ago (edited)

If only Bobby had agreed to meet him at the old spot, the little coffee shop with the small booths and cool music, but, no, it had to be out in the open. Hiding in plain sight.
Gerald wished there was a place where he could hide while he waited. He’d known this park since he was a little kid, so he took the main alley, that went to the lake. He’d never been on that lake. Mother used to say it was too deep and dangerous and now he’s too old for that or at least it seems dumb.
That’s a lie, Gerald, and you know it don’t you.
True. It was not the water he was afraid of, but being there in the middle of the lake, with no place to hide. Nowhere to run.
He tried hurrying his pace, but that was of no use, obviously, for he could still hear their shrill cries. The old trees that arched over the stone path did provide some cover, but he knew they were there even if he didn’t see them.

They had pizza the first night he’d watched that movie. He remembered Mom ordering the usual ‘extra bacon extra sauce hold the mushroom’ pizza. She didn’t like strangers knocking on her door, but she liked pizza more. At first, he thought it was one of the old cheesy movies Mom liked so much, until he noticed the birds gathering on trees, on phone lines, on the roofs. The camera focusing on the seagull nose-diving like a helicopter to attack the little girl.
‘It’s not birds that you have to be afraid, Gerry, but people, they can do much worse things’.
He dreamed of birds coming after him for many years and he still didn’t like to be around them. He couldn’t understand the people walking their dogs or their kids, oblivious to the infernal crows overheard. He wasn’t crazy, he knew they could hear them, too, yet they took no notice, their eyes did not search the sky for the lurking danger. All around him, they talked, they laughed, they kissed.

Look at that tree, there on top, hidden among them leaves, there must be legions of crows hiding, waiting for their chance. Trust me, I know what I’m talking. Right there, see?

He felt like yelling at people and shaking them into action. They were not safe here. They weren’t safe anywhere.
But he didn’t say a word. He didn’t want to attract the guards like those other times, like when that girl got scared and fell of her bike and the mother started screaming bloody murder. Ungrateful bitch. Mom was right - people are much worse.
For now, he must keep a low profile, no matter what. He simply must see Bobby. He hadn’t been sleeping for days and he had that panic attack when he cut his hand with the can opener and he had no alcohol to put on it like Mother used to do when he was little. He must get some pills or else he might have another breakdown and they’d put him away this time. And then they’ll mess with his head again and start with those horrible things, they’ll have him say bad things about Mother, God rest her soul and make him say it was all her fault when she’d sacrificed her life to raise him and protect him from all the bad things out there.
It won’t be long now and once he gets the pills he can go home and lock the door and have some quiet. He’s not stupid, he know birds can’t break through concrete walls. He’ll be safe.