Chapter Text
waiting in his room until the man leaves, he take a deep breath and slowly turns the handle of his door. mom left a while ago for her weekend job, but not before reassuring- or at least trying to- kaveh that his father loves him, he just doesn’t show it very well. he can see his reflection in the sliding glass door to the back yard, the sun set a while ago, and he can see the puffiness in his still-stinging eyes. he can see the hurt and exhaustion and anger in his red gaze reflected back to him.
is that really what he looks like?
it’s no matter. kaveh shakes his head and turns that angry gaze to his subject. perhaps the boy is no longer such; perhaps he is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. sharp and observant like a cat stalking a mouse. perhaps that nasty bird is his prey. approaching the creature’s cage, deft hands find no trouble in capturing her in a gentle but inescapable grasp. no matter how soft he tries to be, the bird still screeches at him. her small beak pinches the skin of kaveh’s fingers and hands wrapped around her feathered body. but none of it is hard enough to stop him. not enough to stop his anger.
a boiling, painful rage tore his heart apart and the boy’s feet took him to the front door before he realized what was happening. he treks through the dark to the far side of the yard, to the thick tangles of brambles and blackberry bushes that border their fence. with a deep breath, kaveh pulls one of the birds wings out, pressing his fingers against the muscular part. pushing down hard, the creature begins to scream in pain and terror. a terribly pleasing set of snaps crack through the night air. hollow bones easily break under the boy’s force, twisting muscles beyond their ability, making that pathetic little bird know that it’s life is in his hands. kaveh’s heart races and he doesn’t know if he’s excited or terrified, but he lets go of its wing and throws the bird into the bushes. it continues to scream as the boy runs back across the yard and into the house, leaving the door open behind him. deep down, he hopes that a raccoon or coyote will find it and kill it for him.
hands shake as the boy makes his way straight to his bathroom, pulling his sweater and shirt over his head, kicking shoes and pulling socks off. everything blurs into itself until cold water pours against his back and jolts kaveh into the moment. right. this never happened.
the familiar crunch of gravel under a car’s tires hits the boy’s ears and he holds his breath. father’s home. which means he’ll find his bird missing. and he’ll question kaveh about it. forcing himself to relax, the boy closes his door and goes back to playing his game. father usually takes a long time to get out of the car anyways, it’ll be okay. no big deal.
“hey, ⬛️⬛️⬛️? do you know where the bird is?”
kaveh freezes, his stomach dropping as he turns to half-face his father.
“no? is she missing? …she might be down under something. gimme a minute and i can help you look.”
quickly turning off his console, the boy hops up out of his chair and half heartedly takes a walk around the inside of the house, “looking” for the bird. behind the books on the bookcase, tops of picture frames, under some towel or blanket. not there. maybe she crashed into the wall and ended up stuck under the secretary desk. no. perhaps behind the blinds, or on the other side of the curtains. no luck.
“i don’t know where she could be… was the back door left open? or the front door? i thought i closed it but now i’m not so sure.”
“the front door was open when i got here. but i don’t think she would fly out the front door. she wouldn’t leave the house at all.”
“well if we can’t find her then… i don’t know.”
lowering his voice to a whisper, the boy shrinks into himself, hiding in his doorframe. he wants to get out of here, to be done with this. he can’t make up lies and excuses forever, and he knows that much. hopefully his father, however, doesn’t realize it. kaveh offers an awkward, sympathetic smile to the man, slinking away to his bed. snakes twist and coil within his stomach, sending mice scurrying around in his chest.
what’s this anxiety for? he doesn’t want his father to yell at him. to manipulate him and threaten withholding care. that man had once been close to hitting kaveh, and since then he’s been afraid of- yet anticipating- the possibility that he will. if he hits the boy, it’ll give him a “real,” solid reason to hate him. it’ll give him an out. an escape from that man.
kaveh takes a deep, long breath, closing his eyes and climbing into bed. this better have worked.
the next day, sunday, is ordinary and insignificant; if you ask kaveh what happened, he honestly couldn’t have told you. went into town with mother for groceries, played with his brother, played some video games. he doesnt even remember who he spoke to. the most notable thing is that kaveh retreated to his room when he knew father would be home.
gravel crunched under wheels and a car door outside slammed shut. the front door opened and the boy tuned out the rest, turning his music up.
it’s only after a few hours that he faces the man for dinner. it’s not like kaveh’s door was even closed, only mostly. ever since his older brother threw a hissy fit and barred himself in the master bedroom, doors weren’t allowed to be locked and were encouraged to stay cracked open. though it does occasionally get closed behind him, not wanting anybody to go in there. especially not father, who always goes where he’s told not to.
rounding the corner to the living room, kaveh’s stomach immediately sinks, his eyes widening. no, this can’t be possible. there father stood, the boy’s brother behind him, coming in through the door. on his glove perched that damn bird. kaveh thought he threw it far enough. but it had managed to get back to where his father would find it.
“y-you found the bird! where was she?”
“uh she was out by the blackberries. she’s fine, thank goodness. just a little shaken.”
the boy forced a smile to he man, silently praying it was believable. he’d always been awkward, though, especially with emotions. so hopefully it wasn’t too out of the ordinary or suspicious. the bird was given a lukewarm stare as it was returned to its cage, and it appears father didn’t notice or realize it’s wing was broken.
how did it survive the night out there? it’s october, it’s freezing. and there are coyotes and raccoons out there. when he’d left the bird, it was screaming so every predator around would know it’s there. forgetting about dinner, the boy turns away and slinks into his room, sitting on his table. clenching trembling hands to steady them, kaveh fishes for his phone, maneuvering to his alarm app. 1:00am. at 1:00am, he will finish this. the bird must be suffering, it must be terrified. but he’ll put it out of its misery.
he felt awake even before the alarm went off. as if sleep was as fragile as closing his eyes, nothing deeper. kaveh’s eyes flash open and he sits up, immediately dismissing the alarm. sleep wouldn’t return now even if he wanted it to. pushing blankets aside, the boy instead settles his stuffies off to the side, leaving a big hollow for him to settle back into when he’s done. finding the work adequate, kaveh climbs down from his bunk bed and flicks on the flashlight of his phone.
he already knows his way- he’s lived here for years, after all. but the phone helps to avoid cords or toys on the floor as the boy quietly sneaks out of his room to the kitchen. to the bird’s cage. the lights above the sink start up with the flick of a switch, and they’re give kaveh just enough light to find the leather gloves he’d left out before going to bed. the bird awakes as he approaches, its feathers ruffled, then smoothed, and ruffled again when kaveh raises his hands to grab it. the dumb creature was easy to catch, and it‘s growls of aggression were quiet.
a deep breath spurs him on and the boy slides the back door open and closed, surprised by the warmth of the november night.
months prior, the landlords had begun to build a home right behind the one kaveh’s family lived in. where only a wire fence once marked the edge of the backyard now stood a big wooden fence. one which left a gap to get to the new house. squeeze between that gap, then climb the hill after the fence ended, and one will find oneself in the wood-chipped part of the neighbour’s yard.
with one hand, the other occupied holding the bird, kaveh dug a small hole in the wood chips. a nice little crook where the bird could be settled into. only a few inches deep, it wasn’t for burying the creature. it was for bludgeoning it. many large, hand-sized rocks found home at the bottom of the hill in his back yard. so when the boy passed through, he had taken the perfect one. now he kneeled in the wood chips, feeling the dampness of an earlier rain seep into his pyjama pants, and holds the bird down by her tail.
his hand does not shake. he does not hesitate. he does not feel bad. he does not flinch.
he simply hits the creature with the rock. first on it’s back. then, when that does not prove useful, its head. when that isn’t working either, he moves to its chest. kaveh deals perhaps five blows, yet maybe seven or eight, and the creature in his hands has stopped struggling. he feels how limp it is, and his tense shoulders relax, his quieted breathing steadies.
the bird is dead by his hand.
scooping up the stone and the bird in one hand, the boy picks out of the dirt every small feather that had come off. kaveh feels oddly at peace as he returns to his yard, down the long, narrow gravel driveway, across the road at the bottom of the hill. there lies a cliff which drops away steeply down to a creek. he feels no remorse as he tosses the stone into the bushes, hearing it roll away. then the bird follows; flying one last time, finally free, into the night.
the feathers it had lost are hidden underground, a small hole is dug and filled where kaveh stands. wasting no time, he simply returns up the driveway, through the yard, over the hill, to the wood chips. to the scene of the killing. the boy fills in the hole he had left, then steps away a few feet to dig another hole, and fills it in. he repeats this process maybe ten times- it’s to throw anyone off his trail if they investigate over here. now all the wood chips have been disturbed.
yawning as he quietly slides the back door closed, he wipes off the gloves and returns them to the closet. his pants, the knees now wet and slightly uncomfortable, get changed for an identical dry pair.
climbing back to the top bunk to sleep as if this never happened, kaveh finds that his bed is still warm.