Wings of a Crow

Selene

I spent this last year hearing of my grandmother’s deteriorating health. I watched helplessly from afar as she refused treatments, doctors’ requests, and my pleas.

“My darling girl, Selene ... Keep your head up. You will understand one day.” She would repeat those words daily. Each time, I felt more and more confused. “Trust that I will always protect you.”

My parents always shut her down when she spoke of what she believed in. “The town nut” is how everyone would refer to her. Mom and Dad would do everything they could to fit in. Our family history kept us from being part of a normal society. We moved to a gated community. They put me in horse riding lessons, English style, of course. On the rare occasion, my grandmother would visit and bring all the light and magic. She mesmerized me with songs, gadgets, and spells.

Grandmother Ophelia was freedom in my mind. After she left from a visit, I used to dream of running free, barefoot, with the wind coursing through my hair. Her hearty laughter would fill the gaps between words or songs.

Tonight, I dream of standing alone in the dark of night, surrounded by the lush forest where the branches and leaves seem to snap and sway. Cricket’s chirp and the frogs’ belch. I can sense the crow that circles above calling to me. I can’t see him, but his caw settles in my grieving heart. My grandmother had always taught me that the crow symbolizes transformation and change. More directly correlating to emotional and spiritual change. As a little girl, I always had a crow nearby. Following me wherever I went.

Quiet of the night, middle of the forest, brings such peace to my lonely soul. I close my eyes and bring my violin under my chin. My fingers trace around the curves of the skull that are engraved into the body of the instrument. I bring the bow to the strings, anticipating the exuberant sound. Sliding the bow over the strings and my fingers glide along the neck with precision as the sound fills the night. Slow and steady to match the melancholy of my heart. My finger shakes against the string, holding the note. With a deep breath, I continue to let the bow glide forcefully over the strings. Increasing the melody, provoking my body to move with every sensuous sound that is created. My body follows the high and low notes. The bridge of the song forces me to expel my breath, releasing the pent-up sadness. Tears fall while I play her favorite song, as I know she is free and no longer in debilitating pain.

My body feels like it is on fire, but I don’t feel a single bead of sweat. There is a smell of burning hair that invades my senses.

I open my eyes, witnessing a golden hue that fills the open space. My hand is still pushing the bow over the strings that are now smoking. I look around and see that this golden hue is coming from me. My body glows and calls for the spirits of the afterlife to protect me.

The wind swirls around my body as my vibrant red hair reaches to be touched by the wind. I smile briefly, continuing to play her favorite melody, as I feel my grandmother’s touch caressing my skin like she used to. A gentle touch that brought such tranquility into a world of chaos. My body spins with the breeze and is in tune with the melody of my violin.

I slow the rhythm of the song as I feel the wind shift. It is pushing me to face north. A cold draft touches my flesh, bringing a creeping sensation that prickles my skin. Fog rolls all around me while a white cloud forms as I let out a shaky breath.

A woman wanders from behind a tree, stalling the music I desperately needed to hear. Her skin is white as snow and her long hair and eyes match the night sky ... black - void of any life. Hilda. I have known Hilda since I was a child and was a victim of her merciless taunting. I watch as her face contorts in anger. Brows furrow with hate. She holds her hand up toward me while I lower mine to my side. I am still gripping my violin and bow with my eyes steadily on her. Her palm is face-up to me as a pentagram illuminates from her pale skin. I watch as it glows red like a warning.

Fire, water, air, earth, and ideas pin at the points of the star ... at least that is what my grandmother had taught me.

The pulsing glow of the pentagram hypnotizes me, and I question if she is warning me of impending danger or if she is the dangerous one. My eyes adjust back to her, noticing that her brother, Tor, stands stoically next to her. His expression is cold and resolute. His features match his sisters’ with dark eyes and hair. He’s tall with broad shoulders that are rigid against his white shirt. The outline of his muscles slightly distracts me back to reality.

Tor places his hand on his sister’s forearm and the red glow of the pentagram fades. The edges pull away from her flesh, allowing blood to drip. The sinister smile catches my eye and her devious laugh echoes in the trees.

“Your time is coming, Selene!” she snarls before an ear-shattering laugh emits from her black-stained lips.

I stand confused, settled in fear by her statement. My mind searches for something ... anything, to make sense of what is happening.

What is happening? Why are they here? Where did the pentagram come front that is embedded in her hand and why is it bleeding? Why is she laughing?

I gulp, attempting to consume my fear. My chest heaves as my body attempts to fake its confidence, standing up to my bully and her brother.

“You can’t scare me!” my voice cracks under pressure.

Tor softly smiles at my weakness. Hilda’s head slowly rocks back and forth while half of her lips curve into a satisfied smile. She is winning this confrontation. Her black eyes glaze over and her appearance mimics a possessed porcelain doll.

“Selene, when will you see?” Hilda asks.

“See what?” I say.

“That you will die!” she points.

She points her finger at me, but a branch that is breaking in the distance behind pulls my attention. I turn to see my parents walking up behind me.

“Stay back!” I warn. Losing my mentor and savior, I can’t risk losing my parents. They are all I have left.

I hold my hands up between the two sides. I’m desperate to keep the distance between the evil and what’s left of me. No one is listening to me as they walk closer to me. My head bounces between the two sides as they move as if possessed. Now neither is looking at me but looking at each other. My breath stutters as I drop my head to cower, clenching my eyes in fear.

Leaves build a wall on either side as if it is my grandmother encompassing me for protection. My hand reaches out blindly, searching for stability. Tears continue to fall and a scream escapes my throat.

“STOP!”

The wind ceases and the burning smell returns, prompting me to open my eyes. My parents and the dreadful twosome stand staring at me in disbelief.

My eyes flutter and focus on my hands, where a single leaf is levitating. The edges smolder with an amber glimmer.

“You? ... No!” Hilda throws her hands in a tantrum.

My parents appear angry. My mother growls while my father’s face looks at me with disappointed arrogance.

Tor’s bitter expression morphs into one of anger. His body shifts back and forth, struggling to repress any outward displays of emotions.

Bewildered about what is happening in front of me. It was all make-believe. It was all rumors. Made up legends about the history of our town and of my family. My grandmother, the town nut, lost her mind. She suffered from various forms of hallucinations. She was crazy. THIS IS CRAZY!

This isn’t real.

“STOP!” I scream.

And just like that - everything stops. Paused in its place. My breathing increases with everything and everyone slowly disappears. It is all moving in slow motion. I am stunned into silence, watching the darkness surround them. The golden light that illuminated my body fades away. I turn to search for these four people. A guttural feeling sits heavy in the pit of my stomach, refusing to subside.

“Mom ...” I call out into the night. “Dad?”

Nothing.

“Hello?” I call out again.

The silence is deafening. I walk through the woods, looking for an escape from this miserable moment.

“My darling girl ... Keep your head up. You will understand one day.”

Her voice is unmistakable.

My body jolts awake, drenched in sweat. I choke on the air, grabbing my chest, hoping to tame this panic attack. It’s still early morning, and the sun hasn’t risen yet. I force myself out of bed and make my way to my small kitchen. I stumble through, wiping the sweat from my brow, and fill my coffee machine. Hitting the start button, I lean against the opposite counter and wait.

“God, it was so real,” I whisper to myself. Opening my palms in front of me just staring at the plain flesh. A caw outside my window draws my attention. The sun has finally risen and the ember glow above the field and tree line is breathtaking. Outside, a crow sits on the fence facing my house. It calls out a few times before the coffee beeps, letting me know it’s done. A familiar sense of calm rushes over me, and I shake my head. “It was just a dream. It was only a dream.” I remind myself.

I pull myself from the window and stand back at the counter, making my coffee. Exhausted, I shuffle myself back through the house to my bathroom. I put a little more makeup on today, hoping to hide my exhausted self.

The appointment with my grandmother’s lawyer is today. It is the reading of her will that none of us knew about. My parents pestered the attorney, but he stuck to his word not to share until three days after her burial. She knew what she was doing. My parents have been planning to sell everything once she was gone.

The quicker we are done with the reading of the will, the quicker I can tend to my greenhouse. I’ll need to grab a few bundles of flowers before I make my way to the flower shop and open up for the day. We have a few weddings to prepare for and to be honest; the greenhouse is my solace from this anxious world. The sweet smell of flowers always invigorates my senses. I smile into my coffee cup as I take a massive swig of the dark roast. We received a shipment of dark purple calla lilies yesterday, and I can’t wait to dig my hands into their rich soil.

“Come on, Selene, let’s get moving.” I giggle to myself and finish getting ready. I am now determined to make this a good day.