A Crow's Cry

• Brenda Lo, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2015

A crow’s cry reverberated through the branches; the leaves trembled in its vicinity. The girl came to an abrupt halt, reflexively gripping the nearest tree trunk with trembling fingers. Her dark pixie cut flew wildly as she resurveyed her surroundings, anxiety prickling her heart like a thousand needles. With shivering breaths, she jerkily forced one foot in front of the other. This had been her fault; she should have known better than to lose it. And if anyone else were to find it…she shook her head, concentrating on the dampness of the bark that seeped into the pores of her skin.

The girl gazed upwards as a raindrop threatened to spill over a stale maple leaf. The weather had been unstable, scorching heat and icy thunderstorms circling the town in a dangerous dance. She remembered how it had happened. A blinding streak of lightning and a clap of thunder - her treasure had vanished.

A light, feathery touch by her ear brought her out of her trance. She gasped, jerking her body backwards and wincing as a sharp branch jabbed her side. The girl forced her eyes to focus on the offender - a simple leaf. Her eyes darted anxiously around her, her muscles tense as if daring something to emerge from the menacing bushes and fight her. She remained there, trying to find the strength to swallow the lump in her throat, before her knees gave way and she slumped against the trunk.

It was hopeless. She should have found it by now. If someone else was already in possession of it…only one potential culprit came to mind. Selfish, greedy adults who think they can just do as their hearts please. Dark thoughts hovered around her as paranoia clung to her persistently. She was unaware of the silhouetted darkness that grew around her by the minute. The dimming light finally caught her attention and she glanced up.

She froze when she saw her path completely shadowed. A large, ancestral oak tree hovered over her destination. Her heart raced, her mind went blank, her palms sweat uncontrollably. She instinctively began to stand, to go anywhere but there, but the slightest abnormality in the darkness tugged at her curiosity. It-It couldn’t be…

“Leena?” Her treasure. She had finally found her again. She rushed forward, grabbing the creature and relief sagged her shoulders as her hands met a familiar, soft warmth.

“I found Leena!” the girl squealed, running around the backyard one more time, adrenaline pulsing through her small body. She hugged the furry cat as it squirmed furiously in her arms, ignoring the roughness of the leather collar as it rubbed against her arm. “Don’t run away from me again, okay?”

The animal thrashed harder, its pelt prickling with the urge to run, run, run… The air seemed to grow colder; the sun had completely set. A crooked smile grew on the child’s face, her eyes wide and bloodshot.

“I’ll just come find you again.”