The Raven

As I walked home from school on the anniversary of his death I heard the cawing of a raven above my head. The sounds jerked me from my thoughts and caused me to drop the notebook I had been carrying. My hand grabbed the crystal hanging around my neck and peered up into the tree over head. The raven sat on the lowest branch and watched me. It’s beady black eyes trying to stare into my soul. I bent down to grab my notebook and saw that it had fallen open to the last page. There was writing on the page and I could tell the hand writing wasn’t my own. I decided to read it in an attempt to figure out who it was written by. I will always love you, you are my angel and I am your raven. A tear slipped down my cheek as I remembered that the notebook was the last thing he had given me before his death. The raven cawed above my head again breaking the moment. I snapped the notebook shut and shoved it into my bag. My hand went back up to the crystal and played with it as I continued my walk home. I could hear the raven behind me flying between the trees. I turned my heard to find the raven watching me still. For some reason it reminded me of the words my aunt had spoken when she gave me the crystal pendant on my fifteenth birthday that I always wear. She said the world is not always as it seems and sometimes we are given gifts that we have no idea how to use. As I thought about those words I realized how strange it seemed that they came back to me now. I watched the raven who in turned watched me silently as if knowing I was deep in thought and being content to observe. “Who are you?” I asked. The raven’s only reply was to caw. “My aunt was crazy, he was crazy, and now I must be going crazy too. Talking to a raven and expecting it to reply.” I sat down on the curb beneath a maple tree near my house. I reached up behind my neck and removed the chain my crystal hung from. As I stared at the crystal I continued trying to find sense in my aunt’s words. I looked up as I heard the rustling of feathers. While I had been thinking the raven had flown down from the trees and was now sitting in front of me. “I wish you could talk, maybe you would be able to make sense of the words or even why everything happened.” I watched the raven for a few minute until I heard my name being called. I turned my head to see my friend Sarah on the street in front of my house calling my name. “I’m here” I called back to her standing up. When I turned back the raven had disappeared. I walked over to Sarah and took one last glance over my shoulder to where the raven had been as we walked up the path. Just as the door was closing I heard a single word drifting on the wind, Believe