(no subject)
The Locker Menace
That sound again. That damned sound again. I want to discover it's root, expose it for all to see, then eliminate it, to show the seriousness with which I despise its existance. I know not what it is, but I can tell you that I hate it, it's bitter sound, hiding somewhere above me. It sees me. It must, because the racket only starts when I'm nearby, seemingly.
At school there is a locker I never use - filled with empty shelves and papers of the failed sort, my friends use it more than I do. They use it for storing their drugs, skateboards, and their garbage. I stay away from there when I can. I can't stand the people, though they are my friends. On sunny days, I hide in the cool shadows and watch my locker, waiting... for what? I wish I knew.
There was one day, I recall, when I approached my locker to find someone had either ripped off my lock, or one of my friends was far too stoned to replace it to its original place upon finishing their business at my unwanted storage facility. The next day I went to the office and paid to replace my lock, and when I got to my locker with the new lock, I realized that whoever it was had put the original lock back on. I looked in my locker to see if anything out of the ordinary was in there, or anything was missing, and nothing was wrong. My first reaction was to shrug it off and continue on my way, but after a while I started thinking about it some more.
In my mind I developed a theory... a paranoid one, but a theory nonetheless. What if some person I don't get along with were to steal my lock and fill my locker with fruit, or anything that could over time smell worse and worse? I hadn't seen any of my friends that day, and didn't know if it was them who'd forgotten to replace the lock, so I naturally couldn't control my paranoia. I was, after 5 minutes, 100% absolutely positive it was someone who hated me. I wasn't sure what they'd done to my locker, nor did I care, if I could find out what it was before it embarassed me horribly.
A week later, on my way to throw another failed paper into my locker, not 5 feet from my locker I heard that bitter cry again. I looked around me, confused. Perhaps it was on the PA system? I stopped and listened, but heard nothing. I took another step towards my locker. An odd sound came from within my locker, almost as if someone was inside throwing papers around, however, I knew that the school had no midgets able to fit in a locker of such small size, and should there be one, of all the lockers, I doubted mine would be targeted. Perhaps they'd thrown a skunk into it? No, it didn't smell nearly enough. But what could it be?
I decided to rip up my paper instead and throw it into the trash, because it saved me having to open my locker.
The rest of the day went by in a haze. I thought only of that odd noise, and what lied in wait in the deep darkness of my locker. I was utterly bewildered, not to mention shocked. Who'd do such a thing? Nevermind that, I didn't even know what this "thing" they did was to begin with. But it drove me insane with time.
I decided to grab a nearby friend on my way to my locker, but by the time I got to them I lost all nerve in asking, for fear of sounding absolutely retarded, and so I continued on my way to my locker alone after class was done. I reached it, and there was absolute silence... like the deep breath before the plunge. I knew something was lying in wait, and the fact it made no noise at all unnerved me even more. I stepped forward to the door and hit it hard with my knuckles. No response. I hit it again, but to no avail. Was there nothing in there, or was I mistaken? Perhaps I heard things all along; Perhaps I heard it.
I grabbed the lock, my heart pounding so hard I could see it leaving my chest with every swelling, and then returning. And then leaving again.... I swung the needle to the first digit - 25. Then back again, a full circle, until reaching the number 1. Then forward again to 21. I pulled at the lock half-heartedly, hoping it wouldn't open, because then I'd have an excuse to take longer to open the locker... or not open it at all. I held my breath until I heard the click, and the lock shot down and swung open without strain. Shit. Now I had to open it and face the daemon inside. I lifted the handle to an almost-open position and took a deep breath.
I wrenched open the door and stood there staring. I saw nothing. Just papers. And a jacket. I moved the papers around, poking at them and hoping nothing would jump out and bite my arm off. Thankfully, nothing did. I was closing my locker, relieved, when I thought, what the hell, I'll poke at my jacket too, cause there's nothing in my locker! My bad.
I no sooner put my hand to my coat, when something whipped out of my locker, bouncing off my shoulder and falling to the floor, just around the corner. Shocked, I yelled out, and some people looked around and pointed at me, laughing. I didn't know why they were laughing, perhaps they thought someone being attacked was funny, or maybe they saw nothing, and thought me mentally ill? It never dawned on me the could be laughing at what had hit me. I turned around and shuffled over to the corner. I took my time, I admit.
I poked my head around the corner, and beheld the thing that plagued my mind and locker for the past few hours.
A starrling.
A tiny bird that you could fit two of in your palm. It appeared fine, so I walked towards it, to see if I could scare it towards the doors to the right of it. It feebly attempted to fly away, but seemed to have a broken wing. How it got there, I found out later: A stoned friend had come across the bird on the way to school the second block, and thought he'd help it, so he brought it to school, where he had nowhere to take it. He put it in my locker, and figured he'd return to bring it food and water... and take it home that same day. The idiot had been too stoned remember it was in there, and so he forgot it even existed, and I had come across it...
Nevertheless, we got it outside, and what happened to it after that, we don't know. I couldn't help it, and neither could the teachers, so we set it free, and this was the story of the lurking bird.
That sound again. That damned sound again. I want to discover it's root, expose it for all to see, then eliminate it, to show the seriousness with which I despise its existance. I know not what it is, but I can tell you that I hate it, it's bitter sound, hiding somewhere above me. It sees me. It must, because the racket only starts when I'm nearby, seemingly.
At school there is a locker I never use - filled with empty shelves and papers of the failed sort, my friends use it more than I do. They use it for storing their drugs, skateboards, and their garbage. I stay away from there when I can. I can't stand the people, though they are my friends. On sunny days, I hide in the cool shadows and watch my locker, waiting... for what? I wish I knew.
There was one day, I recall, when I approached my locker to find someone had either ripped off my lock, or one of my friends was far too stoned to replace it to its original place upon finishing their business at my unwanted storage facility. The next day I went to the office and paid to replace my lock, and when I got to my locker with the new lock, I realized that whoever it was had put the original lock back on. I looked in my locker to see if anything out of the ordinary was in there, or anything was missing, and nothing was wrong. My first reaction was to shrug it off and continue on my way, but after a while I started thinking about it some more.
In my mind I developed a theory... a paranoid one, but a theory nonetheless. What if some person I don't get along with were to steal my lock and fill my locker with fruit, or anything that could over time smell worse and worse? I hadn't seen any of my friends that day, and didn't know if it was them who'd forgotten to replace the lock, so I naturally couldn't control my paranoia. I was, after 5 minutes, 100% absolutely positive it was someone who hated me. I wasn't sure what they'd done to my locker, nor did I care, if I could find out what it was before it embarassed me horribly.
A week later, on my way to throw another failed paper into my locker, not 5 feet from my locker I heard that bitter cry again. I looked around me, confused. Perhaps it was on the PA system? I stopped and listened, but heard nothing. I took another step towards my locker. An odd sound came from within my locker, almost as if someone was inside throwing papers around, however, I knew that the school had no midgets able to fit in a locker of such small size, and should there be one, of all the lockers, I doubted mine would be targeted. Perhaps they'd thrown a skunk into it? No, it didn't smell nearly enough. But what could it be?
I decided to rip up my paper instead and throw it into the trash, because it saved me having to open my locker.
The rest of the day went by in a haze. I thought only of that odd noise, and what lied in wait in the deep darkness of my locker. I was utterly bewildered, not to mention shocked. Who'd do such a thing? Nevermind that, I didn't even know what this "thing" they did was to begin with. But it drove me insane with time.
I decided to grab a nearby friend on my way to my locker, but by the time I got to them I lost all nerve in asking, for fear of sounding absolutely retarded, and so I continued on my way to my locker alone after class was done. I reached it, and there was absolute silence... like the deep breath before the plunge. I knew something was lying in wait, and the fact it made no noise at all unnerved me even more. I stepped forward to the door and hit it hard with my knuckles. No response. I hit it again, but to no avail. Was there nothing in there, or was I mistaken? Perhaps I heard things all along; Perhaps I heard it.
I grabbed the lock, my heart pounding so hard I could see it leaving my chest with every swelling, and then returning. And then leaving again.... I swung the needle to the first digit - 25. Then back again, a full circle, until reaching the number 1. Then forward again to 21. I pulled at the lock half-heartedly, hoping it wouldn't open, because then I'd have an excuse to take longer to open the locker... or not open it at all. I held my breath until I heard the click, and the lock shot down and swung open without strain. Shit. Now I had to open it and face the daemon inside. I lifted the handle to an almost-open position and took a deep breath.
I wrenched open the door and stood there staring. I saw nothing. Just papers. And a jacket. I moved the papers around, poking at them and hoping nothing would jump out and bite my arm off. Thankfully, nothing did. I was closing my locker, relieved, when I thought, what the hell, I'll poke at my jacket too, cause there's nothing in my locker! My bad.
I no sooner put my hand to my coat, when something whipped out of my locker, bouncing off my shoulder and falling to the floor, just around the corner. Shocked, I yelled out, and some people looked around and pointed at me, laughing. I didn't know why they were laughing, perhaps they thought someone being attacked was funny, or maybe they saw nothing, and thought me mentally ill? It never dawned on me the could be laughing at what had hit me. I turned around and shuffled over to the corner. I took my time, I admit.
I poked my head around the corner, and beheld the thing that plagued my mind and locker for the past few hours.
A starrling.
A tiny bird that you could fit two of in your palm. It appeared fine, so I walked towards it, to see if I could scare it towards the doors to the right of it. It feebly attempted to fly away, but seemed to have a broken wing. How it got there, I found out later: A stoned friend had come across the bird on the way to school the second block, and thought he'd help it, so he brought it to school, where he had nowhere to take it. He put it in my locker, and figured he'd return to bring it food and water... and take it home that same day. The idiot had been too stoned remember it was in there, and so he forgot it even existed, and I had come across it...
Nevertheless, we got it outside, and what happened to it after that, we don't know. I couldn't help it, and neither could the teachers, so we set it free, and this was the story of the lurking bird.