A Murder of Crows, Lulu Cerone

A Murder of Crows

As I stepped outside of the serene, pastel pink parlor, a wave of sounds, people chatting, glasses clinking, and a pianist plunking away at the ivory keys, crashed down, almost knocking me to my feet. I pushed through the hallways, crowded with some familiar faces, others strangers. “Gwendolyn!” I yelled, trying to find my 10-year-old sister, the only one who can possibly save me from my boredom during another one of my mother’s parties. She was just two years younger then I, and we have always been very close. “Gwen?” I spotted my brother Oliver, flirting with the pretty girl playing the piano. He looked quite dapper, dressed in his Sunday best, a brown coat and a paisley tie. He was pretty handsome, with his neatly trimmed midnight black hair and eyes that looked like two perfect robins eggs. The pianist seemed to like his company. My eyes are a vibrant green and my hair a dusted blonde. I looked very different from the rest of my family, who all have black hair. That’s always puzzled me. I looked down at my purple dress. I was not fond of dresses, or bows, or jewels, or anything girly for that matter. I liked climbing, running barefoot through the grass, doing summersaults down hills, but my mother had different ideas of turning me into a proper lady. I had to cook, sew, wear frills, and always have impeccable posture. I turned away from the sitting room and dashed to another hallway. Strangely, unlike the rest of my house, this hallway was completely dark and empty. “Gwen?” My voice rang out, and ricocheted off the walls, hidden by blackness. I slowly walked down the hallway, taking steady breathes, although is was hard to breathe in this corset mother had tied so tightly around me. I was always the bravest child. I’d jump off a cliff if I were dared to. This was different though. I was scared. Soon, my steps become quicker, along with my breaths. Before I know it, I’m running down the endless hallway. Suddenly, I fall and trip over something. I feel around the dusty floor to see what I stumbled across. I feel something soft, that almost feels like skin, then staggered breaths… that aren’t mine. I shriek, followed by another scream that again isn’t mine. I crawl backwards in alarm. “Who…who are you?” No reply, just more breathing. I stumble across a matchbox, pull out a match. I swipe it across the side, but nothing happens. “Come on!” I said impatiently, swiping the match over and over again. Finally, an orange flame jumped up, flickering and dancing, guiding me in the black hallway. I desperately shine it all around me, looking for the mysterious person, and starting to wonder if it was just an illusion my fear. Then, I see a face. “Gwen?” She was sitting completely still, eyes wide and shaking with pure terror. “Gwen, oh Gwen, what’s the matter?” Suddenly, Gwen darted out of the hallway. “What are you doing?” I screamed as I ran after her. She pushed though everyone in the party knocking over a waiter and spilling someone’s glass of wine all over her cream colored dress, staining it blood red. She ran and ran until she was out the door. I was about to follow her as just mother stepped in from of me. “Ivy Jane Crowe! Look at what a mess you’ve made!” “But Mother I-“

“If I hear another word form you, you are grounded-“ “Mother Gwen ran away!” I said firmly, in a dire voice. “Nonsense. She’s probably just in the parlor.” Mother locked the front door. “Now go to your room!” It’s a week later now, and Gwen’s pictures all over the local paper. “October 19, 1849, Missing child, Gwendolyn Estelle Crowe.” Bedsides Gwen’s disappearance, father has been acting really strangely too. He triple checks the locks on our doors at night and makes me go to bed at 6:00 pm. He’s always alert and very protective. I don’t blame him, loosing a child, but I see a sense of fear and great danger in his eyes that I can’t explain.

Then, it happened again.

I was fast asleep in my white voluminous nightgown, when I heard a shriek.I woke up at once and looked at my watch. 6:00 AM. I ran out of my room. I heard the scream again. “Mother!” I sprint to her room. Her door is closed. “Ivy-“ I jump, but then realize it’s just the maid, Mrs. Tiverton. Her eyes are bloodshot and her body is shaking. “Ivy, you’re father, Mr. Crowe, he’s…. he’s gone m-missing.” She’s shaking more now, and stuttering. “W-we thought he was at the coffeehouse, getting his early morning coffee, but we f-found…” Her voice trailed off. “Come see for yourself.” I open the door. The room is pitch black. Mrs. Tiverton hands me a candle. The dim light is just enough to see a couple of inches in front of me. I search the room. I make my way around the red velvet couch, past the gilded pink curtains, and I see nothing suspicious. Then, I go over to a an empty corner. Mother is on her hands and knees, groveling and sobbing. I rush over to comfort her put she sits up and yells “I don’t want you in here Ivy Jane! Out! Out! You can’t see it! Not at such a young age“ “Mother-“ Her eyes are wide with revulsion and fear. She stands up and screams. “Out!” I walk backwards, but trip over my own legs and fall down. I put my hand on the edge of the bed to pull myself up. Once I can finally get to my feet, I pull down my nightgown. As I take my hands away, I see two bloody handprints. I look at my hands, which were also covered in blood. I pick up the candle and look at the bed and scream. A small pool of blood and a crumpled up note lay in the middle. I take the note, and before I can open it I hear mother again. “Ivy Jane Crowe stop misbehaving! I told you this is no place for children! Now get out this instant or else!” I keep the note and run outside. I slowly open it up. It reads in shaky handwriting:

“You’re all such fools, you didn’t get the clue That I’m set loose and I’m coming for you, You broke my heart, you made me dread, Each day that passed, now your daddy’s dead -M.D.”

It’s another week later. We are all grieving after our lost family members. Mother has not let me leave the house, not even to churn butter or milk our cow. I have to study with my boring tutor and watch the world go by from my foggy window. It’s been raining a lot lately too. Bullets coming down from the tanks up in the gray sky explode as the hit the ground into dirty puddles. I was overwhelmed with boredom.

Then, it happened again.

It was night once again, and I was in the parlor knitting a sweater, while Oliver was engrossed in a novel. Mrs. Tiverton was busy sweeping up, while mother was playing the piano. I was enjoying the music she was making, although it was rather depressing. It added to the gloominess of the old mansion we lived in. Then, the music came to a sudden stop. I walked downstairs to see what happened. The door was wide open. I looked around to make sure mother wasn’t anywhere near, and stepped outside. The door slammed behind me and locked. My heart started racing, and I broke out in a sweat. I rapidly knocked on the door. “Help! Let me in!” Then I looked behind me. Mother was wobbling towards the gate, her hands duct taped behind her back and a gag in her mouth. I felt a sharp hit on the back of my head. Then, everything went black. When I gained consciousness, I was still on the front porch. It must have been early morning, around 6:00, if I wasn’t mistaken. The wind whispered good morning to me, and gave me the chills. I tried to sit up, but my spine was stiff, my head throbbed, and my whole body was shaking with an unbearable pain. Lying next to me was another note and a map attached. In shaky handwriting it read:

“I warned you once, but you didn’t fear So now I’m back for your loved ones, dear Angel, sweetheart, pumpkin pie Mommy and brother are going to die. Where to run? Where to hide? I’ve murdered all your love inside So come back home, and home you’ll stay Just follow the map, it’ll show you the way. -M.D.”

I was hysterical, crying a sea of nervous, bitter tears. I pounded on the door, but it was still locked. I peered in through a window, but the whole house was black. Without thinking about it, I took off, running out of our abandon house, past the gate and into the woods. Our house was surrounded by no civilization, just wizened trees with crooked smiles, their arms twisted and their leaves shattered, blown away in the frigid wind into more gray skies. I ran and ran, no stopping or looking behind me. I bumped into a tree, falling over. I sobbed and sobbed, realizing that this was reality. Then, to my surprise, I saw a hand. I grabbed the hand and stood up. A girl in rags who looked to be 13, like me, was standing there. “Hello.” I said, straightening up and wiping my eyes. I looked closer. The girl’s face looked a lot like mine. Exactly like mine. Her golden hair and big green eyes, both of our hair was in knots and my eyes were filled with despair.

“Hello. We have very little time before she finds us out here.” The stranger’s voice shook.

“I beg your pardon, haven’t we just met?” “So much to explain, so little time. Listen up.” She talked quietly and fast, so fast that I could barely make out what she was saying. “I’m Victoria, Victoria Densmore. You don’t know this, but I’m your sister. When you were just three, you wandered off into these woods and your father, Vincent, was off running and errand, found out alone, scooped you up and took you home.” “Not so fast“ “Look at us! We are twins! Anyway, our mother, Margret Densmore has been struck with so much grief when she lost you that she turned mentally inside and is after your family. She has been imprisoned for 12 years, but she’s set loose, and now she’s moved into these woods to spy on your family and to get you back. I had a family too, a foster family, but she kidnapped them-“ her voice trailed off. My eyes traveled into the back of my head and I fainted. I woke up rather quickly, but the minute I saw Victoria I backed away and started crying again. “Stop lying! Why are you lying? Stop it! I don’t know you, you don’t know me, and even though we look so much alike, we aren’t related and we never were.” I stood up and tried to run away, but Victoria grabbed the hem of my dress. “They’re still alive.” She said in a shaky, quiet voice. “What?” “My…” She paused. “Our mother has them.” “Don’t you dare call her my mother!” Victoria looked down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” “All of this is overwhelming, I just can’t believe it.” I said. She looked up. “Well, Come on Viola.” “Viola? It’s Ivy.” “Oh right, you’re real name is Viola. Viola Myrtle Densmore. Follow me.” I raised my eyebrows in shock. “Just-call me Ivy.”

I followed Victoria hastily, since she was the only dim light in my fog of despair. “Here we are.” Victoria pointed to a small wooden shack, thrown together by fallen logs and some rusted nails. It was half the size of a small room in my gloomy mansion. “You first.” She pushed me towards the door. Then, it happened again. I slowly open the plank used for a door. The shack was not furnished. The floors were squeaky and it smelled like rat dung and dust. I coughed as I stepped inside. I was hesitant, but I needed to do it for my family. “H-h-hello?” No reply. I looked behind me. “Victoria? I don’t see anyone.” I didn’t see Victoria anymore, either. “Victoria? Are you there?” I heard a muffled shriek coming from below, then a voice saying “Shhh… Viola can here. Now stay still!” I stepped farther into the house. “Victoria! Mom! Dad! Gwen! Oliver! Where are y…” Before I could finish my sentence, one of the floorboards gave out underneath me and I fell down, underground, and landed on concrete, flat of my face. I sat up and my nose was bleeding. I had gone through so much pain that day, the fall that would have

been completely agonizing felt like nothing. I got up.I was in an underground cell. A wooden table sat in the middle. The pink paint was chipped and the white embroidery was almost gone. At each chair sat a member of my family, including Victoria and our maid, Mrs. Tiverton. There were cupcakes with mountains of pink frosting, embellished with sprinkles, and raspberry tea. Their arms and legs were chained to the pink plastic chairs. They were trying desperately to free themselves. I peered closer and realized that everybody’s mouth had been hand sewn into a smile. The needle was still dangling from Victoria’s mouth. They looked horrifying. Then, she came in. Her black hair was frizzy and knotted, her skin as pale as a sheet of paper, her black dress sweeping the floor as she walked by. She had no color in her eyes, just pale white circling her pupils. She was old, hunched backed and frail. In her hand was a teddy bear, beaten and torn. “Darling.. You’re just in time for tea” She said in a scratchy old voice. “So glad you can come.” She got closer to me. I was so stricken with fear I didn’t dare to move. She reached one long, bony finger up to my face. Her nail was long, and painted crimson. She caressed my cheek. I slapped her finger away, gaining my courage back. “Here, remember teddy my little Viola?” “Let them go.” I said between my teeth. “Ah ah ah! There’s a catch there dear. They can go, but you have to stay.” I looked at my family. They were desperate, and I loved them very much. I looked into Margret’s evil eyes. I looked back at my family. They were looking at each other, pleading with their eyes. “So, if I stay here with you, for-forever, you can let them go?” “Of course.” She smiled a toothless smile, the only teeth she had left rotten and yellow. I lifted my hand up to shake her hand. “Deal.” I said. “Wonderful! Now go to your room.” “But can’t I-“ “Now!” I obeyed. As I sat on my rock hard bed, I watched my loved ones run away, run free from the desolate shack. I stared out my window as they blew out the last candle of hope for me. I started wondering if they even loved me. They didn’t even take a second glance. I heard the door slam and an evil laugh, welcoming me to my new life. Separation. A very strong word, feeling and another piece of my puzzle. Thoughts circle through my head. Bad ones. Seeking for a way out. Sometimes, I don't know where I am. One thought brings tears to my eyes. Creating a pool of words. I jump into that pool, searching for new ways to create happiness again, taking all of the scary words, and discovering new ways to make them brighter. I slowly get out of that pool, words dripping down my skin. Now I am stepping into a book. Have I found a new chapter in my life , where everything will be okay? Are there going to be more pools to fall into? But all in one, the tale of time has told me that I am not the only soul who has gone through the deepest and darkest pools, yet to go through more. I’ve seen that path before. Knowing that I would soon walk down it. I am ready, for something new, yet a trail of streaks are following

behind, they will not get in the way, of my new and improved smile, and for everything mentioned is held within that same smile.

Lulu Cerone