Earth Angel

One pale finger touched the bird’s neck as the creature lay limp within a cupped palm. A soft gasp could be heard as the head of the thrush wobbled with her probing, childish shock expressed in sound. Why didn’t the little creature move on its own? Why were the eyes glazed over, and what was this red fluid coming from the tiny beak? She couldn’t understand that the thrush was dead, much less that she had killed it by taking it within her grasp. She didn’t understand that, unlike her, this fragile being could be crushed. She had only been trying to get a closer look at it! The thrush dropped to the ground from her suddenly lifeless fingers, his neck twisting at an odd angle and driving his breast upwards. Noticing this seemingly independent movement, the woman bent, looking at the corpse. It had moved. That was all she understood. She scooped the bird up into her hands and peered at him, mimicking his soft cooing with her voice. Seeing no response from the animal, she merely shrugged, opening her satchel and placing the tiny thrush within.
Moving through the woods as a shadow along a hidden trail, the woman walked without purpose. Frequently she stopped to gaze at some new wonder, caught for hours by the pattern of a spider’s web, avidly observing ants building their palace. She stopped beneath a tree eventually, setting her back against the bark and sliding to the ground. The leather satchel was placed upon her knees as she rifled through it, looking at her treasures from the day. A stone that caught the light and reflected it in chips of gold, one of the leaves just beginning to turn color with the fall . . . and the bird. The miniature dead bird, neck broken, starting to decay as she looked at it. The woman took the bird into her hands, rising from her seat and placing the thrush on one of the branches of the tree. She closed the satchel and continued with no apparent path, merely experiencing, unable to comprehend that the little creature would never sing its sweet song again. Stepping deeper into the woods the woman came to a halt, stopped by a mysterious barrier. Stones were stacked atop one another in tidy rows, held together by a rough mortar. She didn’t realize that this stone wall, for surely that is what the barrier was, was out of place. This realm was not her own; everything seemed strange and unexplainable. One of her hands extended to touch the stone, her palm flattening against the surface. A hint of fear glistened within the black orbs of the woman’s eyes. What was this strange thing? In fact . . . what were all of these strange things? She missed the warmth she was used to, hearing Mother’s voice sing to her as she slept. She missed the feeling of strong arms cradling her in a warm embrace, and she missed the color that had once filled her closed eyes. Sinking down to the earth, she wept. Tears fell down dirt-streaked cheeks, the first tears she had ever shed. She didn’t understand this feeling. She didn’t even understand why this fluid came from her eyes.
A loud booming issued from the wall as part of it opened beside the woman, casting a shadow on the ground. She turned, not knowing shame enough to hide the tears on her face. A creature stood before her on two spindly sticks, covered in fat and decorated with gaily colored cloth that somehow resembled her own clothing. She had never seen a human before, not even her own reflection. And now, she couldn’t recognize this creature as living. Two luminous green stones glowed out of the grotesque face of this thing, calling her attention. So shiny and pretty. Why should this thing possess such beauty?
She rose to her feet, staring at the round orbs. A pale hand wrapped around the soft throat of the creature, stroking it gently. She watched in bemused horror as her grip turned the flesh black. So soft and silken, so smooth. But it moved! It moved! It struggled against her touch, and suddenly it hit her. The glowing orbs were not stones. They were eyes. Eyes like her own. She snatched her hand back from the creature’s throat, scared that she had hurt it, horrified though she couldn’t understand pain. A soft whimper issued from the woman as she heard the cracking noise of the creature’s neck snapping. The human slumped to the ground, head lolling in the dirt, beautiful green eyes now closed in death. She understood. She had made this creature stop moving . . . and she didn’t like that. Suddenly she ran into the woods, trying to get away, trying to escape. She had begun to hate living things. They left so quickly!