Scratch

I wrote it a while ago and found it in my files so some of the grammar and spelling are "off". I think it's one of my best... critique, please? I wrote the poem based off of it as well, and now it's the ending:

The Crows at the Window

    "She says she talks to birds."

    "That's what you told me, yes."

    "She says..."

    "Is it true?"

    "She says they talk back to her."
    "Really."

    "What do you think about all of that, doctor?"

    "It's hard to say. I'm finding this all very interesting... Maybe if I could talk to the girl..."
"It just can't be healthy."

    "Perhaps there imaginary friends of some sort."

    "At her age?"

    "Its certainly odd, but not un-heard of."

    "I see."

    "Lucy was never one for pretending..."

    "You think she is seeing things? Halucinations?"

    "It could be."

    "B-but... what can be done about that?"

    "Medicine,perhaps, I don't know. I'd like to speak with Lucy, first."

    "She doesn't like talking to people she doesn't know."
    "Tell me about that."

    "I don't know, she just doesn't".

    "She is an odd girl."

    "Charles,she's your daughter".

    "It's true, isn't it? She's always been odd."

    "Nevertheless......"

    "What do you think, doctor?"

    "I'd have to talk to her first. And I'd like to know... just what do these birds tell her?"

    The girl with short dark hair sits waiting as raindrops desparately beat against the window. She sits on the desk. Various inkblots litter the surface of the desk. She's waiting, but it's not clear yet for what.
She pays no attention the voices down stairs. She knows they're talking about her, but that's not what she's concerned about at the moment.
    A dark shape soon appears, growing from a spot on the gray sky to a spidery shape to finally a crow that sits on the window.

    "Hello", says Lucy, opening the window just a crack.

    The crow ducks it's head, in return.

    "They brought a doctor this time," she says.

    "Why? You're not sick."

    "They think you aren't real," explained Lucy.

    "Ah... I see." The bird cautiously entered the dry room, shaking its feathers slightly to rid them of the droplets clinging to their inky darkness.

    Lucy surveyed the gloomy hill side. "Yes, its all very silly, of course." She then closed the window so that the rain did not come in anymore, moved her legs off the desk, and placed her feet on the floor. Then, she asked the bird dryly "I don't suppose you'd like any tea."

    "No, not today." They both watch the window. Two more crows land on the windowsill and Lucy lets them in. Ice clings to their wings making them shine brighter like a cold sort of luminecensce. It's snowing outside now. They are shivering a little. There is silence in the bedroom.

    "Will you sing for me?" Lucy asks suddenly. "Its so dreadfully quiet in here."

    The birds opened their beaks and joined together in song that filled the room for a moment like a light in the sad somber darkness.

    "That's so pretty," Lucy said. Her mouth trembled.
    "You're unhappy," observed one bird.

"I know." Lucy said sullenly.

    "Is it the kids at school again?"

    "Yes. They don't understand me... they never have." Her gray eyes darkened as though a shadow passed over them.

    One bird broke from the gathering on the desk and walked up the arm of Lucy's brown sweater. She watched it's assent. It came to rest on her shoulder. The sweater she wore was old and had holes in the elbows. Her least favorite aunt had knitted it for her.

    "You're free," said Lucy. "You can fly away whenever you'd like. You don't have a cage. But i do. I have to go to school. I wish I could fly away too."

    "We can't fly away from everything." said the birds.

    Lucy watched darkness obliterate the sky. "You're freer than I am," she answered impatiently.

    Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. "Lucy, dear" said a high and nervous voice from outside. The bird on Lucy's shoulder, shocked, gripped it's claws and tore a cut through the sweater.

    "Ow!" cried Lucy.
    "Lucy, is everything alright?"

    "Everything is fine Mother, please go away now."

    She waited until her Mother's footsteps became too quiet and far away to hear and then examined her shoulder. Fresh blood spilled from the cut.

    "Apologies," said the crow.

    "Its fine."

    "We had best be going now," said the first crow.

"Please, don't leave." Lucy stared at them hopelessly, "you're the only friends I have."

    "Nevertheless, we must go."

    "Goodbye," whispered Lucy, and lifted a hand in farewell.

- - -
A tapping came at the window.

    "Hello," said Lucy, "I thought you'd never come." She opened it a bit, but the birds didn't come in. They stayed on their treebranches, looking in Lucy's room. It was certainly rather messy, she hadn't cleaned it up in ages.
"The doctor said he has to talk to me," said Lucy.

    "Did you?"

    "No."

    Lucy thought.

    "What if I'm just imaginating this whole thing, though," she said finally. "What if they're right?"

    "You don't mean you're letting them make you believe that?" asked the birds, a few mocking caws arising from the group. "You know what you see and hear is real, Lucy."

    Lucy shivered. "Sometimes, I'm not so sure. Maybe there's something wrong with me".

    "You think they're right when they call you names at school, when they won't talk to you?..."

    "No!... I guess I'm not sure what to believe right now. I feel trapped again."

    "Of course, Lucy. You'll always feel trapped."

    "I don't like it, I don't want to feel trapped... isn't there a way..."

    "Yes, there is... and we've told you. But... well". Their eyes frightened Lucy for a moment.

    "What is it?" she said, her hands trembling a little.

    "We'll tell you, some time, perhaps. Now, we must go."

- - -

"Have a seat, Lucy."

    The doctor's office was white and drab. Lucy didn't like it. Her parents sat outside in the hall way. They wouldn't go in with her. They refused. I don't care, she thought. I hate them.... Then she felt guilty.

    "Your parents have told me about the birds you ... see at the window."

    "Yes," Said Lucy, hating him.

    "Would you mind telling me a bit about that? You see, they're quite worried about it."

    Scared, thought Lucy. They're
scared.

    "I dont see what the problem is." She glared up at the doctor. "I want to go home."

    "I can understand that,but maybe I could help you. Do the birds ever...upset you?" asked the doctor.

    Lucy thought.

    "No." she said. "They never have."

    "And do you speak with them?"

    "No. They're birds."

    "That's not what your parents say."

    Lucy said nothing.

    "They say they talk to you, too."

    Lucy thought of what the birds said yesterday. There is a way to be free, she thought. I just have to know what it is.

    "It doesn't matter," Lucy said.

- - -

    "I want to be free," Lucy said, wiping away her tears. "Please, tell me how."

    The crows fluttered tauntingly outside the window. "Lucy, you can't fly."

    "I know. But there must be another way."

    "Lucy!" shouted her father downstairs.

    "Quickly." Lucy said. "I'm getting away from here. They're going to send me somewhere. To 'evaluate' me. I don't want to.......please. Help me."

    The birds simply watched her.

    "I have to get away," said Lucy. "Tell me, where can I go? And how?"

    "Lucy!" came another call from downstairs. "Please, it's for the best."

    Lucy turned to the birds.

    "We'll tell you," said the birds, finally...

    Lucy leaned in close, and the first bird whispered something in her ear.

    There was a long silence from behind Lucy's door. Lucy's mother stood just outside. "Lucy, honey. I've been thinking. Maybe this was a bad idea. Lucy, are you alright? Lucy, please open the door. Maybe we can talk."

    But nothing again was ever heard from Lucy. She was free.

x x x

a fluttering of black feathers
i stare outside into the gray skies
a traveler has arrived at my windowsill
shedding a coat of raindrops
like tears

i ask if
he'd like to come in
and whether he would care for
some tea
but he politely declines, for he must be on his way

sometimes i wish
i could fly like a bird can
i tell him sadly
but here i am trapped here
in my bedroom

and you can go anywhere
you'd like

that is not true
says the traveling bird
readying his wings for flight once more
birds are trapped just as much as humans
by life

if you want to be free
he whispers as he departs
then you must jump