The Bird Outside My Window

I'm finally home from work. It was a really long day. I take off my coat and sling it over one of the chairs at my kitchen table. It's been raining now for probably an hour or two. I wasn't really paying attention to the rain until I got out to my car. I was sort of busy at the office, so not much time to look out the windows. I take off my tie and drop it onto the table where I'm now sitting down at. I have a really bad headache. It hurts pretty badly, but I don't feel like getting up to get Advil or anything like that. Finally, I get so hungry that I have to get up to get something to eat. Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure I skipped lunch today. I open the fridge, bright lights radiate throughout the kitchen, frying my tired eyes it feels like. It sucks that I didn't get much sleep last night; it always makes my head feel funny. I grab some steak from last night and throw it in the microwave. I'm looking for barbeque sauce now, if I even have any. 3 minutes feels more like 10,but I'm now hearing that familiar, loud, annoying *beeping* sound. No sauce, so it is going to be a little dry. I sit down at the table, and start eating.

I haven't seen the bird yet. I'm looking at it's usual spot, but its not there. Sometimes it’s a little late, so it will probably be here in a couple minutes. I look at some of the other birds, but they're just not doing it for me. My steak isn't really all that good. It's edible, but it certainly isn't anything special. There it is, the bird lands in its usual spot. I look at it. It really is a great bird. It looks like all the others, but it's not like the others somehow. It's just different. I watch it shake its feathers and jerk its head around. It always looks so restless. I've always wondered what would happen if I caught it. I've never tried, probably never will. So, I watch it. Nobody else cares about this bird besides me. It's only for me. No one else has to know about it. I think I hear someone at the door. I bet it's my girlfriend. I get up to see. Yep, it’s her. Time to pay attention to her I guess.

It's 9:30 now. I'm going to try to go to sleep early tonight. Last night I had a lot of trouble trying to fall asleep. My mind is pretty restless I guess. Last night, I was up until 2 or 3 a.m. I bet. I wasn't watching TV or anything, just thinking. I thought about my job, my parents, my girlfriend, music, movies, facebook, friends, and the bird. I thought about the bird quite a bit. I thought about the fact that I could never catch it. Birds are fast. They never let you get close to them. They always fly away if you try to grab at them. You can never catch a bird, only watch. I decide to lie down and see if I'm tired at all. The lights are still on. I hate sleeping with lights on, I can't do it. I have to have complete darkness to fall asleep. No noise, no lights, just pitch black, that’s how I fall asleep. I get up and turn the lights off. I don't really feel like brushing my teeth, so I just close the door and lie down. I lie in bed not being able to fall asleep. I'm pretty used to that feeling. I think I might hear something hitting my window. I turn to my right to find a bird scratching at my window. Is it my bird, or just some other random bird? I can't tell. It’s too dark. I think it is opening up its mouth. Yes, I believe it is, but why? Suddenly, I hear an awful screech coming from outside my window, from the bird. It doesn't sound like words. It just sounds like awful, distorted, crackling, upseting noise. I hope it shuts up. It is so loud that I begin to bite my lip and clinch my fists. I take a pillow and chuck it at the window. The bird gives off one last horrible screech and flies away. It's quiet now. I fall asleep.

I wake up and realize that I'm late for work. I bet the clowns at the office are joking about me, saying stupid crap like I was out late partying. I sort of have a reputation there for never being late and for never taking days off. So, my not being there right now is probably sort of a big deal. I quickly throw on some of my work clothes. I'm really thirsty for some reason. I remember the bird last night. That was strange. I've never heard a bird make noises like that. Why would it come to my window and just do that? Maybe it was my bird. Maybe it got angry because I watch it. I go downstairs and get some coffee. It tastes really good. I got a different kind than I normally get. I like it. I bet the bird isn't out yet. It doesn't normally visit me in the morning. It usually just comes for lunch and dinner. I have to eat lunch today. I was starving yesterday. I actually think I'll come here and eat lunch. I only live 5 or 6 minutes from the office, so it's not that big of a deal. I don't think I have a whole lot here though. Actually, I think I'll stop somewhere and bring my food here and eat it here. That sounds like a good idea. Plus, I get to watch the bird.

The days are really dragging. I'm just filling out senseless forms it feels like. I rarely read them anymore. All I know is my manager tells me to fill 'em out, so I fill them out. It's almost lunchtime. I can't wait to get out of this cubicle. I always thought an office job would be cool, but it starts feeling like torture within a year. Everyone here is stupid anyway. I have no motivation whatsoever to talk to these people. They think that all their gossip and "he said, she saids" are so freaking important. They think it holds some huge importance in the grand scheme of things. They're annoying and shallow. I look over to the clock. Yes, it’s lunchtime. I get in my car, flip on the radio, and sit back for a couple seconds. I'm just trying to relax. That "All by myself. Don't wanna be all by myself" song is on the radio. I can almost relate in some ways. It's pretty relaxing. It's raining, just like it was yesterday. I'm sort of glad that it is raining, I don't know why. I start up the car and head for home. I don't feel like stopping somewhere anymore, so I'll probably just end up eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Better than nothing, right? I open the door and make way for the kitchen. I look out the window and see the bird.

The bird is in its spot. It is perched on the far right of the birdbath, twitching its head back and forth, watching all the other birds fly back and forth and side to side. Birds usually fly in groups. I mean, you never just see one bird flying by itself. But, this bird, this bird is different. It is always all by itself. . It is always in that same spot. I begin to wonder if it notices me. Does it know that I make conscience effort to go to my kitchen window and watch it? Does it realize all the hours I've taken out of my days to look at but a mere bird? Could it understand that? I watch it lower its head down and begin feasting on a pile of worms. It lifts its head back up, with a worm in its beak, and continues to jerk its head and body as if it’s having a panic attack. I'm finished with my sandwich. Time must have flown by; I have 7 minutes until I got to be back at the office. I decide to leave the bird at the window and head back to work. 20 minutes isn't enough for lunchtime.

Work surprisingly went by relatively fast. I now find myself in my kitchen making dinner. I stopped at Giant Eagle and got some real food to make. The food is in the oven while I sit at the table, watching the bird. It's one of those gray days. The clouds have pretty much suffocated the sky it seems. The bird probably doesn't care about that. It probably doesn't care about much really. I care about so much. Sometimes, I wish I didn't care about anything. Sometimes, I wish I could be more like the bird. The bird is just sitting at the birdbath, making strange noises. It almost sounds like the noises I heard last night, but I don't think it was my bird doing that, I think it was just some other random bird. I want to try to catch it sometime soon, just to have it. The thought of never being able to catch it is just...annoying me. It would be neat to have. Maybe, I could keep it as a pet. I'm sure it wouldn't mind. I don't think it really minds about much anything. I think my food is done. I get up and walk over to the oven. Looks like it could use another 15 minutes.

I'm in bed now. It is 3:15 a.m. I think. A bird is at my window again. It's not making noise this time though. It's just sitting there, looking at me. I begin to hate it. I begin to be sickened by the mere thought of it being there, looking at me. It's such a stupid waste of an animal. I don't even see why God would take good time to create such a stupid creature. I sort of wish it would screech at me to give me even more reason to hate it. I know it is not my bird. My bird would never do that. This bird is just a waste of thought for me. I just throw the covers over my head and fall asleep.

It's Saturday, so no work for me. It's a relief I'll tell you. I love weekends. I swear the sun comes out more during the weekend. It's a bright,sunny day. I'm not hungry, so I guess I just won't care to make breakfast. I bet Sammi will want to come over today. I almost don't want her to though. I'm thinking about breaking up with her. She freaks out a lot. She's a loud person. I'm a really quiet person, and I hate loud noises, so you could see why it ain't working out too well. I check my phone to see if I have any missed calls. Thankfully, I don't. I guess she's busy. The bird is outside. That's odd; it normally doesn't come out this early. What time is it? I look at the clock on my phone, 11:48. Wow, I slept in. Now the day is going to zoom by. Today is going to be a boring day. I'll probably just watch a couple movies and maybe listen to some of my CDs. Maybe I should go somewhere...no, I don't really feel like it. Maybe I should go outside and catch the bird. The more that I think about it, the more I wonder why I shouldn't. If it flies away before I get it, it won't affect me much, will it? Maybe it might...

I just really want that bird. I think about it non-stop it seems now. Only I notice it. It's my bird. But, it feels like it's something I could never have, something I should never have. But, the bird is for me and for me alone. I dare never tell anyone about the bird, due to the fact that it would never be just for myself, due to the embarrassment. It's that thing for me. It's that thing that I'll always want but will never have. Others might be able to have it if I told them about it, but I can never have it. But I want it. Why can't I have it? After all, it is just a bird. Well, no it's not JUST a bird, but it is, but it's not. I want the bird now. It is meant for me to have the bird. I feel like running outside and grabbing it and bringing it in here. I want it to know who I am. It has no idea who I am. It probably doesn't know that I exist. How funny, I’m much more important than the bird, but it probably doesn't even know that I'm here! It probably doesn't even realize it comes to my backyard every day. It probably just knows it's hungry and would like a place to wash. I know it is there though, I know it is.

I look at it. I go to the door, crack it open, and stare at the bird. It takes notice of me. It sees me. It knows I exist, now that's established. I walk to the birdbath. It doesn't fly away. Maybe it wants me to have it. Maybe it wants to be my pet. I sit down on the grass next to it. It is so close. How long have I known the bird? It seems like it has always been here. Ever since I was small, the bird has been here. It feels like it never ages. It feels like it knows me more than I know myself. The bird's black eyes just dance about as I try to look into them. Why won't it fly away? I want this bird. It was created especially for me. Maybe it's all part of God's plan for my life. This bird, man, it’s right here. I feel like it is still sitting outside my window. It feels like I'll never have it, I’ll never own it, I’ll never see it realized. It's the thing that I want most of all I'm beginning to think. A better girlfriend would be fine, a better job would be great, but I'd gladly give those up to keep this bird. But, I can never have it. It is not meant for me. Maybe it is meant for me to watch it, want it, desire it, but never own it.

I reach my hand out. I put my fingers around it. I don't squeeze. I just keep my fingers gently around the bird. I'm so close. I almost have the bird. It is almost mine. I think about having it. I wonder where I will keep it. I might keep it in my room. I think about seeing it every day, playing with it, petting it. I think about finally having my bird. Is it "my" bird? I don't think so. Right now, it is just "a" bird. If I grab and keep it and feed it and love it, then it would be "my" bird, right? I decide to grab it now. I slowly begin to tighten up my fingers around the birds inky, black body. It doesn't seem to mind. Maybe this bird is for me. Maybe it is "my" bird. I pray I can take it inside, and love it.

I suddenly get excited and begin to squeeze really tight. What am I doing? I start to hear cracking noises. I look down to find that I'm killing the bird. I see dark blood begin to pour out from its head and mouth. I see guts running from its stomach and down my hand. I hear whimpering noises. Why can't I stop? The blood continues to empty out from its small, fragile body. I still hear the breaking. The tiny bones inside snapping and breaking like twigs. Feathers fly all about as I continue to choke the very life from my now dying bird. Its organs continue to become visible as I continue squeezing with all my force now. It's breaking and dying. No, this isn't how it was supposed to be. It's all ruined now. Everything is ruined now. The bird is dead. It is dead because I killed it. I'm tired. I want to go to sleep. I throw the bird's empty body into my neighbor’s window. Why did I do that? I have no freaking idea. I go inside now. I'm going inside to sleep now. I hope I never wake up