There was a terrible sting in his ears. With his vision hazy, he watched his breath leave him again and again as if his soul was being expelled by some kind of sorcerer. He nearly tumbled over his own feet as he ran, and the pain rumbling through his joints and tendons made him wince.
“What have I done…” he gasped, his throat burning. “What have I done…”
He knew not how far he had run, but he was quickly nearing his limit. His mind as well as his body had grown weary, and an immense sickness had grown in his stomach. He wouldn’t be able to run forever; the wobbling of his legs wouldn’t allow it. However, because he had no destination in mind, there was no “end” for him in sight, and there was nothing else for him to do but fall.
He had no recollection of what happened after, but when he awoke, he found himself slumped against the trunk of a tree. It was so tall and immense that his skin tingled, and in a panic, he tried to rise to his feet. However, he was unable to move. In fact, he had no sensation in his body at all. There was no pain in his ears. His body no longer ached. His head did not pound. The only thing he felt was the beating of his heart.
What he found strangest was that, despite everything, his head was clear. He looked up at the tree. The leaves seemed to glow with a magnificent color—the beauty nearly bringing a tear to his eye. The trunk—in its great size—reminded him of his parents when he was a child. It seemed to watch over him, and that thought alone made him feel warm. He quickly grew fond of it.
There was a rustle in the trees above, and the head of a crow poked out. It was small; it couldn’t possibly be larger than his palm. Its beady eyes gazed into his as its head swayed from side to side as though inspecting him.
The crow blinked. “Dear sir, why are you lying underneath my tree?”
He was surprised that the crow could speak, but for some magical reason, the thought was merely a passing one. He was more curious, instead, about why the crow had addressed the tree as theirs.
“…It’s a beautiful tree.”
The crow fluttered down to a branch only a few feet above him. “Yes, it is.”
“Is that why I feel so… peaceful?”
“It is designed to bring feelings of serenity,” the crow cawed. “It was how I crafted it. However, enough about me and my home, stranger! Tell me, why are you in such bad shape? You’re so dirty, so rugged, so pained! Did something happen?”
He looked down.
“Hm… well perhaps not right at this moment,” the crow concluded with a flap of their wings. “Tell me, stranger, what might your name be?”
“…Elijah…” he said with a dry tongue.
“And mine is Razul,” the crow replied. There was movement from above, and Razul slowly fluttered down. In their beak was a fruit Elijah had never seen before.
“Here,” Razul grunted, careful not to drop it. “To replenish you.”
Elijah, as if a phantom had done it for him, slowly opened his mouth. Razul carefully placed the fruit on his tongue with a contented sigh.
Elijah chewed and swallowed as the bird flew back up to the branch. The next second, his mouth was no longer dry, and his heart had calmed itself.
“…Thank you…” mumbled Elijah.
“It’s the least I could do for my guest, though I do not know how you ended up here. It has been quite some time since I have seen another being, and—as you can see—it is quite lonely out here.”
Elijah looked around. Indeed, it was empty. There were countless trees all around them, and yet not one of them was occupied with life. Not so much as a squirrel or an insect skittered across the ground. He felt a sense of familiarity.
“…How did you get here, Elijah?” Razul asked him.
Elijah inhaled. “I was running,” he said plainly. He exhaled.
“Running? What for?”
“…I have done something horrible.”
There was rustling, and Elijah looked up. Razul was exactly where he had seen them last, looking at him with pitying curiosity. Though he wasn’t sure, Elijah noticed that Razul seemed to be slightly larger than before. However, he dismissed it.
“…It can’t be that bad, Elijah,” Razul squawked consolingly. “Maybe it’s bad—but it couldn’t possibly be that bad, don’t you think?”
“I’m a murderer, Razul…” Elijah groaned finally, tears in his eyes. “I’m a murderer…”
There was a rustle in the leaves above. “…A… murderer?” Razul murmured, concern in their voice.
Elijah sobbed. He tried to wipe away his tears, but he was completely immobile. “I’m a dastard murderer… a murderer… I am a murderer…!”
Razul flapped their wings as the leaves around them shuddered again. “Now—dear friend—calm yourself… Here, another fruit of mine.”
Elijah watched as the bird flew down, another piece of fruit in its mouth. It seemed smaller than the one before. Elijah opened his mouth again, and Razul carefully dropped it inside. It was sour. Razul returned to the tree.
Elijah had never felt such numbness in his life. His brain seemed full, but there were no thoughts. He felt the cold wind glide across his face, but he could not breathe. He could see the moon, but he was unable to describe it. Everything existed, but nothing was known to him.
“…What did you do to me?” Elijah asked as his tears dried.
“Calm yourself, Elijah,” Razul said. “Relax. Tell me, Elijah. Tell me how—no—why… why you murdered.”
Elijah lowered his head again, looking between his legs at the soil he rested upon.
“…My family is very poor. I live with my mother, father, younger sibling, and my pet dog named Hamza. My father and mother are too old for work, and so I am left with the duties of taking care of my family. I worked three jobs, and even though we barely managed to get by, we were happy. We all had each other. Some days, however, I was unable to buy my dog proper food, and he would have to rely on the scraps that we could give him after our meals. Hamza seemed to be fine with this, and I ultimately decided to stop buying him food altogether if it meant saving money. I was able to keep this up for a week before Hamza began to show signs of deterioration. He used to be lively, despite our conditions and his age. He would jump from corner to corner, chair to chair, mattress to mattress. Then, as if he had changed overnight, he would only sit in one small corner during the afternoon and only occasionally move to a different resting place. But he did so without a whine or a whimper—you wouldn’t have thought anything was wrong with him. His fur would shed drastically, and he would become so lean that if he were to push up against you, you would think you were being snuggled by a corpse. Regardless, he did so without a whine, and we loved him very much. He would become infested with fleas and ticks for periods at a time, and giving him baths did nothing but irritate his skin. One night was like any other until I had heard his whimpering and shaking through the darkness. To ease his trembling, I decided to have him lie on the mattress with me. I held him near my chest, and when I woke up in the morning, he was as cold as ice, unmoving. No matter how many times I would shake or prod his poor body, neither a sound nor a movement would come from him. I have no memory of it, but as we were walking to the river, my mother had told me that I had woken them up with my wails. The very first thing they saw was me rubbing Hamza’s head against my face like a stuffed animal. It was only dawn, so the river was completely still. There was a damp patch of soil by an old water tower that we made Hamza’s burial site. Our hands could only dig so deep, and the last I remember seeing of him was his ear sticking out of the dirt like a growing sprout. That night, I couldn’t get an ounce of sleep. I was awake, shivering. I left the house and returned to the river. I dug Hamza out of his grave and washed him in the water; his fur was sand between my fingers—it was as if he had been skinned. I kissed him on the nose before I put him back in his grave.
As I walked back home, the sun was beginning to rise. I had no thoughts except one. ‘Hamza died because I couldn’t take care of him,’ I thought. Then another one began to creep into my brain. ‘…If I couldn’t take care of Hamza, then how can I take care of my family?’ Fear crawled its way down my throat. I began to sprint back home.
Leaves suddenly fell from the tree, interrupting his speech. He realized that his fingers were digging into the ground.
He looked up at the silent bird. They looked at Elijah as if he were some kind of beast.
“…You are large,” Elijah said resolutely. Over time, doubt had settled in his mind, but now he was sure. Razul’s talons—their entire body, in fact—had nearly tripled in size. Razul’s beak had to be roughly the size of his palm, and their feathers were so dark and disheveled that Razul appeared to be a stage prop. Their claws dug deeply into the branch, and small wood chips fell to the ground.
“Large?” Razul questioned in a deep, raspy voice, unlike anything Elijah was used to. The bird looked at themself, and with a heavy rustle of the feathers, sighed. “I suppose I have grown a bit…”
Elijah trembled, though he wasn’t sure if it was out of fear or the strange feeling in his skin. He felt his heart sink, and with each breath his eyes watered and his body ached. He bit his lip until he could taste blood, and eventually was able to form words.
“…Why?” he panted. “…Why… do you grow… so much?”
“…I can’t help it,” Razul said plainly.
Elijah did not understand, and it drove him mad. It was not because of Razul’s sudden increase in size. It drove him mad that—only moments ago—he was completely at ease. Now, suddenly, he felt as he did when he was first running. It drove him mad.
“Regardless, it matters not,” Razul said. “Please, continue with your story.”
“Why… are you so concerned… about my ‘story’?”
Razul cawed. “It helps me understand why you are so hurt.”
Elijah’s vision grew glossy, and he felt a strange weight on his shoulders. Regardless, something deep inside him—something primordial—bellowed for him to speak.
“…Once I was inside the house, I fell to the ground. Again, I was exhausted… damned exhaustion! All I could ever do was be tired! If only I could work tirelessly—move tirelessly—nothing would be wrong with me! Hamza wouldn’t have died… a-and I wouldn’t be a murderer…” he sobbed.
Razul said nothing.
“I didn’t sleep at all that night! I could only toss and turn as I lay—scratch my skin as I breathed—it was terrible! I couldn’t face my family, not even my younger sibling, for all I saw in their faces was death! Skeletons before me! They were withered like dried-out flowers, and I could do nothing to stop it. One night I could no longer take it, and, in a flurry, I returned to the river. I ran right past Hamza’s grave and I quickly climbed to the top of the old water tower. I was so dizzy afterward that I might as well have fallen off regardless. I climbed up there to jump, Razul. Again, yet again I was exhausted… and I could bear the weight no longer. I am a coward, Razul! I am a coward! My dizziness grew so great that for a moment I lost consciousness. I thought I had fallen off the tower and looked at the end of my existence. However, when I regained my vision, I had only been knocked out, and was lying face-up adjacent to the river. I stood, gaining nothing but terrible pains in my body. The idiot I am! I didn’t return home, however. With my pain and my aching head, I wandered. For how long or how far, I knew not. However, at some point, I arrived somewhere foreign. I could feel it in the air, and I could sense it in my skin. There was no smell of damp mold, and the air I breathed was fresh and thin. The soil I stepped on was soft; healthy. The sudden change to my environment snapped me out of my mindlessness, and again the world shaped before me. I found myself in a different neighborhood. Understand, Razul, that it was completely different from the one where I resided. There were no broken-down or vandalized houses, no vines and mold growing on the side of houses, and nobody sleeping on the grass or by the side of the road! I was so amazed that I couldn’t help but be curious—curious about the marvelous paradise that I had stumbled upon.”
The leaves above him shifted again. Panicked, Elijah again looked up.
“Y-you! You grow again?! Why?! Why?!”
Razul slowly turned their head down towards Elijah, their beady eyes piercing through him like bullets. As if he had been struck by lightning, Elijah violently shivered.
Razul lifted their beak. “…Elijah…” they said solemnly in a quiet, raspy voice. “…Do you mind if I ask you a question?”
Elijah pushed his back against the tree. He felt something boiling inside of him, like a parasite eating him from the inside out. There was something warm and acidic in his throat. In the next moment, he vomited.
“…What… is it…?” Elijah panted.
“I have a slight suspicion. Please be honest with me, Elijah.” Razul flapped their wings. “In the neighborhood that you’re describing… is that where you became a ‘murderer’?”
Elijah’s skin turned cold. “…No…” he said with a downturned head. “…I… it… it was somewhere else…”
There was silence between them.
There was a quick noise above him, like a horrid screech or a grinding of gears. Regardless, it was quick and loud, and it filled Elijah with such dread that his breath caught.
“My apologies…” Razul said with a click.
There was silence between them again. The autumn breeze stung Elijah’s cheeks like a wasp.
“…You lie to me, Elijah,” Razul said harshly, as though they were scorning a young child. It had much the same effect on Elijah, for his heart sank at the words. “…I do not mean any harm to you, Elijah. I am only trying to understand you—understand what you are.”
Elijah shook his head. “I have told you already, vile bird! I am a murderer! What about that is so hard to understand?! I can tell you all that you want to hear—it does not change that I am a murderer!”
“Maybe you are right. Though, perhaps you had just reasons. You told me earlier that your family was very poor, and that if only you had the means to supplement your poor dog, Hamza, he wouldn’t have died.” The tree shook again. “Perhaps that has something to do with it?”
“You and your incessant growing!” Elijah cried. “Does it never end?!”
Razul said nothing.
Elijah screamed. “Yes! Yes! That is where I killed her! That’s it! Is that what you wanted to hear?!”
Razul said nothing.
“I couldn’t believe what I saw before my eyes! Never in my life had I seen homes so beautiful, so perfect, so noble! It was as if I was dreaming! I crept to the nearest one and peeked through the window. Inside, though dim, I saw a toilet that wasn’t yellow with age, floors that weren’t made of soiled wood, and a sink that was as white as snow! My wonder was so immense that I had to get closer, and that is when, in my excitement and fever, I stumbled over a rock. With childlike instincts, I held it in my palm. In the very next instant, I knew what to do next. I took several steps back, just far enough so that I could be confident in the success of my next action, and with the might I had in me, hurled the rock towards the window. As anyone would expect, it made a sound so sharp and so reverberant that I tripped over my own feet in trying to flee. I ducked behind a trash bin and was completely still. I waited and waited—though, I’m an idiot—I cannot even begin to fathom why I did not just run away! Regardless, I waited, and despite my noise not a sound was made, and not a movement was stirred. Finally, after a long time of cowardice, I stepped from my shield and returned to the portal I had just created. Understand, Razul. Understand that at this point, I was completely conscious!”
“So, you were,” Razul stated with a click of the tongue.
“Yes, I was. I knew very well that I was intruding inside of another person’s home. I knew not what vision or ideal I had in mind when I broke that window, but now another thought crept into my mind. Razul…” he said with tears. “…Do you care to have some mercy on me?”
“I am not the judge of that,” Razul stated with a strange echo in their voice. “I can only give as much mercy as you expect me to give.”
“I ask this because another thought had begun to creep into my mind on that night… It was a simple thought, believe me! There was no harm intended! For it to have descended into that… it makes me want to tear myself into pieces just thinking about it! Know, Razul, that I had simply wanted to steal. Steal—yes—steal! That is all I ever wanted to do! And it was with that in mind that I crept through the window, the sharp edges of the broken glass cutting deep into my skin. I had succeeded in getting halfway through the window before my lack of sleep and wounds had worn me down, and with a heavy thud I fell onto the bathroom floor. I had nearly screamed in pain from the glass shards gouging into my flesh, but by biting my lip to blood I had managed to stay quiet. I had gone too far now, and after pulling the shards from my body with great insanity, I stood. It was dark; I could hardly see, but it was as though some sort of spirit was guiding me. With slow steps I exited the bathroom, and I found myself in a hallway of sorts. There were picture frames and platforms on the walls, and on closer inspection I could see that the occupants… Just thinking about their faces haunts me!” he whimpered. “As intriguing as they were, they were not worth taking, and I continued wandering. My steps were slow and heavily controlled, so controlled that it hurt. Despite this, however, due to my lack of vision, I had stepped on a toy of sorts, and with flashing colors, it began to sing and dance. It scared me half to death, and again I fell to the floor. In my delirium I crawled desperately for it and, gritting my teeth, tore the damned thing to shreds. Still, it glowed and sang the same hellish song. My nerves had gotten to me! Understand! With hatred, I mustered enough energy to stand again and stomp on it until it no longer glowed and no longer sang. Barring my haggard breathing, it was silent again. My clothes were sticking to my back with sweat, and my heart was beating so fast and painfully that I could’ve sworn it was going into cardiac arrest. I listened. There wasn’t a sound. Not one sound. It was strange, Razul. Even in my madness, I heard nothing. A strange feeling began to bubble in my heart. I was excited. Excited! I am terrible! I don’t deserve life! Excitement! Perhaps it was more akin to relief; however, I was so delighted that I began to think: ‘What if there’s nobody home?’ If such a thing was true, then all my worrying and stress would be for nothing! I was so excited by the concept that I soon believed it to be true, and in my excitement, I stomped my foot on the floor in victory. I had never been so happy in my life. Hear me, Razul, hear me! My joy had never been snuffed so quickly as it was in the very next moment, for throughout my stamping and giggling I had managed to hear footsteps. They were coming from above, and I stood horridly still as they traveled downward.
“‘Honey? Are you home?’ I heard in the softest voice. ‘Why are you making so much noise? Are you okay…?'”
The leaves above him shook. However, Elijah could not care to look, for at this point his eyes were so blurry with tears that he had resorted to simply closing them.
“I didn’t make a single sound. I didn’t move. I am unsure if I even breathed. Like a startled animal! Like a mouse, I stood there helplessly, until the footsteps were right behind me! ‘Honey…?’ she said, and she touched my shoulder.
“Something overcame me, and like a desperate beast I turned around with agility and struck her with my fist. Her screams bounced around in my ears as I continued to beat her. ‘Help! Help!’ she wailed! I felt wetness on my face and salt on my lips as I struck her again and again. Somehow, she got out of arm’s reach and tried to retreat up the stairs. My heart aching and my lungs burning, I chased after her and tripped on the stairs as I made the final leap to grab her ankle. I succeeded, and she squirmed and writhed as I regained my balance. With a final display of strength, I threw her down the stairs, and she tumbled and curled as her head thumped against the steps. Five times. Five times did I have to hear that horrible sound. Her screams were no more. I looked down the stairs in horror at her lifeless body. My legs were shaking, and I felt myself losing balance. That’s when I heard another sound: a creak of the floor. It came from above me.
“I looked up, and there, with a look of astonishment and terrible grief and hopelessness, was a small boy. He could not be older than three. Glistening tears on his face, he stood looking at me, holding a teddy bear. I could hear his soft whimpers. I ran out of the house through the way I came.”
There was a heavy thud in front of Elijah, but his wails were so great and powerful that he could scarcely hear it.
“I am terrible!” he cried. “Terrible! Terrible! Terrible! To kill a mother in front of her child—I deserve death! Why did Allah have to tolerate my living?! Why?! Death! Death! I deserve death!”
Razul quietly lifted their talon. At this point, it had grown far larger than Elijah’s head.
“Terrible! Contemptible! I deserve death!”
There was a thud, and Elijah’s wails were no more.
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