Behind The Grey Stained Windows

No, I didn't want blood today, I didn't need it. And still, I wasn't feeling (generous?) today as to give some away. As usual, I sat by the steps, somewhat alone. The wind carried on by me, lifting countless leaves from the surface down towards the trail. It tussled my hair a bit, and I allowed it to do so.

A black bird met my presence, and I smiled in happiness. The creature tilted its small head in surprise, as if I had somewhere else to go, instead of here. I simply shrugged, speaking more to (myself?)(or him?)than to the little bird. "Guess we're not alone, if we've got each other."

The bird nuzzled its cheeks against my thumb playfully, feathers shining a brilliant blue even in the clouded weather. Eyes like raven black drops of (lead?)(mercury?) interested me. It seemed like the bird was looking in all directions at once.

Rain.

Like tears, rain began to fall. Over the home, and over the windows. Those (odd?) (brilliant?) (horrifying?) windows desperately needed a wash. And whatever inside the eerie home needed a brush of sunshine and a splash of water too.

The bird aside from me had huddled underneath the shade of my bag to keep from getting itself wet. It wasn't like I had anything valuable inside, so I let the unknown bird take cover from underneath my property.

I hoisted myself up from my seat to take a look around (my?)(his?)(its?) hangout. It was a relatively small home, with a sturdy wooden roof that creaked now and then. The door was average and dark brown, like a usual home. I could imagine an apartment building with just one apartment room and that would match what my eyes were witnessing.

All of it was located on top of the tallest and steepest hill of the state. And before getting a step near this home, I had to go through the old cemetery that everyone is scared shitless from.

By now I was drenched, but glad that the little raven was safe and dry. As thunder struck, I decided to return (home?)(to hell?)(to heaven?)(purgatory?)(guilt?) and leave my bag to protect the bird. I took one last glance to the bird, one last smile.

More thunder, and that one last glance at the home got me running like a frightened cat. I'm not afraid of thunder.

It's the figure I fear.

Notes