Street Birds

/CHAPTER 4/

Darkness.....

Emptiness.....

Loneliness.....

I felt them all, I also felt the coldness of the pavement below me. And chilliness of the wind. I opened my eyes wide, staring up at the dark sky, the moon lighting the way. I sat up, almost mechanically, I looked around, there was a small indentation in the alley were I uh, well went splat. I brushed off my jacket, and started to walk, I immediately noticed my limp, I glanced down to see my leg was twisted around. I rolled my eyes and continued walking, I made my way to the streets seeing the others like me. All ghostly pale, most of them covered in blood from bullet or stab wounds, some still had drool hanging from their mouths from when they OD'd. I waved as I past.

"Dick? Is that you? Back already I see." A dark skin man greeted me as I passed, he had tire tracks over the front of his body, which was disfigured, his guts falling out.

"Hey Frank. What can I say, I just can't stay away." I smiled, shrugging my shoulders. I jogged across the street as fast as my broken leg would let me, avoiding the drunk drivers that went by, their cars smoking, crushed almost completely. I shook my head as I entered the diner. The bell on top of the door announcing my arrival. The big man from behind the counter looked up, a smile quickly came to his face but quickly left as soon as it got there. He picked up a knife from the stand throwing it at me, it stuck in my shoudler.

"Hey! That's gonna leave a mark you know?" I said pulling it out, walking over to the bar taking a seat on a stool.

"What are you doing back here, kid? I thought I told you to clean up your act? You were just in here a month ago." He lectured me.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah I know. Me and my brother were in trouble, it was the only way out." I told him.

"Uh- huh. You wouldn't be in any trouble, if you quit what you're doing." He pointed his sausage like finger at me.

"You know I can't do that Buff. I got to provide for my family-"

"You don't have one." He glared at me, okay I'll admit not my best lie.

"Buff, you know I can't. It's the only thing I know, its the only thing I'm good at." I argued with him as he slid a milkshake in front of me, my usual.

"Now we both know that's not true." He smirked at me. I rolled my eyes, taking a sip, then gagging.

"Ugh, I can't taste anything!" I complained, "How do you still have any customers?" I asked looking around at the multiple people sitting in booths and tables eating away like it was a normal day.

"Its usually just the people who don't move on, who think they're still alive, or the ones still trying to hold on to the feeling of being alive." He said in a low tone, he wiped down the counters, I stared at my reflection as the towel cleaned a spot. Dark circles under my eyes, blood staining my face, my hair was tangled around blood and clumps of flesh and brain. I sighed looking away, that's when I saw him. Standing on the other side of the street outside the diner. I turned on my stool hiding my face with my hand. Buff saw my panicky reaction, he turned to see who I was looking at.

He chuckled wiping the towel over his shoudler. "Kid, you got to be kidding me. What's it been, three years?"

"Four." I corrected him, my face still being covered by my hand.

"Then why are you still hiding?" He asked kindly, I slowly peeked over my hand to face him. "He doesn't blame you, you know? He never has, he comes in here daily, talks about you. You were his best friend-"

I scoffed dropping my hand, "Yeah the best friend that stabbed him in the chest." I muttered.

"Listen to me kid, he's forgiven you. It's about time you forgive yourself too. Your parents came in here the other day too." He added turning to the stoves behind the counter. My head perked up.

"My what?"

"Your parents. I could tell they were, they talked about their sweet precious boy, they said some other things to. But, I thought it would be better if you hear dit from them." He explained.

"No I can't- I can't face them." I shook my head.

"I understand kid, but any other person alive would do anything to have your abilities, to see the ones they loved and lost. Stop taking your gifts for granted, kid. If you lose someone, they're never really gone. Other people don't have that luxury." I nodded slowly, a high pitched whistling shook the building. The glasses jumping frantically, the lights flickering, the customers continued to eat as if nothing was happening. I slammed the counter getting off my stool.

"Well, it's been fun Buff. I'm sure I'll see you soon." I smirked, he glared at me not appreciating my joke, well it was honestly kind of the truth, but I won't tell him that. I walked back into the streets, the deep dark green and black clouds swirled in the sky, lighting striking from within them. I sighed looking at the dead city around me, people who had already lived there lives or the ones whose were cut to short. They never got any second chances, although I bet they all would like one. Me on the other hand, I've had about a hundred. I never change, and I probably never will. I die, doing stupid things, drugs, sex, alcohol, crime, then I come back just to do it all over again. I know it's wrong, I know I have 'gifts' and 'abilities' other people would kill for. But I never asked for them, I never wanted them. And if other people had them, they would see why. The wind around me began to pick up speed, in a quick motion I was pulled up off the ground into the sky. Being consumed by the giant funnel. It felt like I was going a thousand miles per hour, the worst part of it all was, when people say when you die "your life flashes before your eyes" but what they don't say is it does when you come back to life too, and it sucks. You feel every pain you ever lived through all over again, every busted knee, splinter, paper cut, broken heart, or in my case bullet wounds, stab wounds, ODs, falling off buildings, and every single hangover I have ever had, which is alot. I saw the light at the end of the tunnel, cheesy I know, but true.

______

I jerked up in bed panting heavily nearly giving Jason a heart attack who was sleeping in the chair beside my bed.

"Holy shit dude! A little warning next time?" He grabbed at his chest. I chuckled slighting, I went to move but then the pain hit. This part was worst then actually dying. I groaned wincing. I grabbed at my neck snapping it back in place.

"Ah, that's better." I groaned, swinging my legs off the bed. I looked up at Jason who clearly didn't know what I was wanting, I slumped my shoulders waiting.

"Oh no, dude, you know I hate doing it." He whined.

"Well you know I can't do it myself, so suck it up you big baby." I told him he rolled his eyes grumbling, "Fine." He bent down grabbing my leg, gripping the ankle and right above my thigh as he twisted it back into place hearing a satisfying pop.

"See, was that so bad?" I asked standing up pushing up off my knees. Then the wave hit me, knocking me back down to the bed. The screams, the cries of pain, the begging, ugh the begging. I grabbed at my head cringing at the pain. I couldn't hear what Jason was saying, or could tell that he had ran out of the room. I fell back onto the bed, rocking side to side as the pain consumed me. I could hear screams, only to realize they were my own. Jason had sprinted back into the room, tearing my hand that was tangled up in my hair from my head, holding it down as he shoved a needle in my arm. I gasped taking in as much air as I could, my pupils dilated, everything became silent, and peaceful. I sat up, my mouth hanging open as my eyes wandered the room. Jason stood over me worried.

"Dick?......Dick? Dick!" He screamed the sound finally some what coming back to me. I looked up at him startled. "Are you okay?" He asked.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just a little 'whoo- hoo' you know, hey do we have any food?" I asked pushing past him out the door. He sighed shaking his head.