<Run_Program>
Year-2000
-
Erin Barnes plays with the devil on a Tuesday.
They’re running through a field of daisies. The sun is baking their skin, and they’re laughing so loud that it won’t be surprising if the sound carried itself all the way up to the heavens.
From a outsiders point of view, it was just like a scene from a movie. Or as if it was made of fragile glass and if you touched it, it would shatter.
In the scene, Erin Barnes, cropped hair, green shorts. A girl who was twirling in the field of daisies like no one’s business. Finds her feet halting to a stop when her eyes set sight on something that has her hands trembling.
Looking down in between two stalks of flowers was a colorful bird that was on the ground flopping up and down like a fish without water.
Looking at the side of its body, Erin quickly understood why: bone popping out of flesh, bloody feathers falling onto the ground-
-its wing was broken.
So Erin screams for Ezra, her bestest friend in the entire world and tells him to get over here. Because his dad fixes animals, so that means that Ezra must know how to fix animals too.
“What is it, Spice?” He asks when he runs towards her crouched figure on the ground. Frantically she points to the bird with her threadless finger.
Not using words because she didn’t believe any were really needed. It seemed obvious of what has happened, as Ezra imitated Erin and crouched down too.
Following where her fingers were aimed at, Ezra looked down and stared at the injured animal.
And in a flash, Erin watched as the smile that was previously presented on Ezra’s face melted off. And the only evidence that he didn’t just freeze up, and turn into a stone block. Was the way his eyes slowly closed and opened up again, almost as if time was suddenly slowed down, but only for him.
Nonetheless, seconds passed before Ezra finally stood up; slowly, deliberately.
And for a second Erin believes that if she had leaned in closer to his legs, she could almost hear his bones creaking with the movement. She believes that maybe if had she leaned in closer she could probably prevent what was about to happen.
Because the next thing Erin knows is that there’s a foot stomping on the bird’s small frame.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
As a loud crack that reaches her ears, makes her nerves light up, and her brain go haywire; and she swears that there’s a breeze that brushes past her as the boot lays there for the fourth time, on the bird’s feeble body. Before shifting back and forth, left to right as if to take extra precautionary measures and make sure that it did it’s job and crushed every piece of the birds now debilitated frame.
Nonetheless, when the foot pulled away, the bird wasn’t moving. Its skull was in pieces, and it’s brain was splattered a few inches away.
Before you know it.
The scene is broken-
The glass breaks-
And Erin wakes up.








