Weird Things
1256 Words
I forgot who said this, but weird things usually mean either really good or really bad things are up ahead.
Right now I am looking into that misty bathroom mirror and trying to recognize what remains intact of my bashed face. So much for the good things up ahead, huh? It's been two days and my jaw still feels like not in its place. I've had worse, but yeah, this still looks pretty bad.
Maybe I didn’t like what I was seeing so I huffed the mightiest huff I can muster from the remaining of my cigarette. It burned straight up to the butt. Then blew a white cloud on the mirror before I put off the filter on my pathetic reflection.
It’s the first time I stripped down naked and stared at myself since those jerks mauled me. I'm not sure if they'd let me in now looking like this in the... what's that place again?...
South Pole... yeah that's the bar! I'm to find this guy they call The Auditor. Says he's a VIP there. Comes every Thursday. I seriously have no clue what I'm gonna do, or how to explain it to him, but what the heck! I just had to get a chance to talk to him!
I struggled so bad with getting my head through my shirt, no more than I struggled with fitting in my pants. Those patches of black or blue bruises all over ain’t making it easy. I finished off with a dab of band aid across the chin. Then grabbed my jacket.
I stepped out to our puke-smelling living room. You’d think that someone barged in and trashed and looted the place around. Nah, it just looks like this. Me and my w***e of a ma prefer it like this. Reminds us of the warmth of the feeling that the next day will always be the same crap of life that you’ve always had so why even bother. There’s comfort in not giving a s**t, somehow.
Creak, creak, creak, creakcreakcreakcreak… the sound of the old bed goes. I can hear it from behind the walls. Did I mention my mom was a w***e? She’s probably being drilled on by some foreigner right now.
Before I hit the door, I didn’t know why I even bothered to call out.
“I'm going out now ma!”
“Ughhh.. what's that Grey, honey?”
Seriously you can even hear her gasp from the s*x!
“Still got food in the fridge... and some beer. I'm gonna go out to see someone.”
“See who now?... ooooh!!!!”
“Ughhckkkk!” I just had to turn. I was so disgusted!
Creak, creak, creak, creak.... so it kept on like a daily chore. The houses in our dank neighborhood are so close-knit you could hear every rumor. Not that my ma’s carnal ventures are in any way a secret.
You’d have to make a couple of more lefts and rights on a two-man alley littered with s**t, puddles, and puddles of s**t before you can even breathe real city air. I lit another cigarette. Might be my eleventh for the day, but who’s counting, really? It’s the only thing that can make this long drab walk down the murky and crowded typical Manila slumsville more interesting.
This, and that odd white crow perched on a street post.
“Is there a white crow season? Is that even a thing?” I thought.
You’d think that with all the crap happening in my life right now, I’d care the least about a dumb white crow. But this wasn’t the first time, you see. I’ve been spotting these birds for weeks now. And I could’ve sworn, its head would always turn slowly to my direction when I walk past it... I watched it from the side of my eyes as it leered over me like it knows me. Inspecting me.
I was telling you about weird things and those things up ahead, right? Well, This is where it really starts.
I tried to shrug it off and think about literally anything else. I had a lot in my mind so that should’ve been easy. First order of business right now is to find The Auditor. I wonder what’s he like? Someone told me he could weave miracles and perhaps take cancer away.
It’s for my girl Anya. You see, she's got stage four terminal cancer. And if there's anything left in this godforsaken life that makes me want to keep kicking, it's her. And no, nothing's taking her from me just yet. Not until after I've sold my soul to the devil or something. I'll pay anything. Anything.
I was stopped in my tracks just briefly when a feathery white bird flapped haphazardly in my face. I looked up and the lone white crow a while ago had found his pals. A couple of them are now lined up along the wires, and the roofs.
“I swear to god, what's up with these birds?!” I remember my self being annoyed, or maybe afraid.
I lit up my twelfth (or thirteenth?) cigarette and didn’t realize my strides are becoming longer and faster. Perhaps stupidly hoping the birds, yes those creatures with wings, wouldn’t catch up on me. I wasn’t even halfway through my Marlboro when the birds start to f**k me up! Suddenly there are now twenty or fifty of them up there! All with the same spying gaze.
They were in the streetlights, in all the windowsills, in the branches. I hurriedly turned to a corner, out a busy street, crossed the road, then left to another noisy street. And just when I thought the creepy birds are gone, I made that mistake of looking up again.
I was mortified at the sight of swarm of white feathers and talons, all with their piercing gaze aimed at me! Like a pestilence hovering above waiting for me to give them a reason to attack. In sheer fright, I tried to outrun the birds which is of course a stupid attempt. The flock swiftly swooped down at me in unison. There wasn’t much else I could’ve done. I ran to the alleys, the streets, and even tried crossing the roads, almost getting myself hit. The swarm only followed me close and flew right in my face in a diabolic whirlwind of sharp feathers, beaks, and claws.
I couldn't see clear. Several times I crashed on a vendor, or bumped into someone, but everyone else didn't seem to notice the bizarre phenomenon. I tried to run some more, and scream. But the people thought I was just losing my mind.
And just when I thought that I might indeed be losing my mind, I slipped on a puddle and fell face down.... that’s it all mysteriously stopped. I took my time and waited for them to tear me to shreds... but nothing.
When I finally gathered up the courage to look up, I saw flashy blinking lights. It was from a semi-busted signage that spells 'SOUTH POLE BAR' followed by a icon of a woman twirling on a pole. And immediately, I forgot about that evil white flock that was chasing me.
Weird things indeed.
Weird things mean either really good or really bad things are bound to come. Maybe when I tell you the story why I got beaten up, you can decide which way this story is headed for.
It was two days ago, and I came across this creepy beggar…
- Writer
