The sky was a swirling gray and blue, the lake a deep and cloudy emerald green. The dock had been freshly painted. Whistling trees of

muted browns and greens permeating with fresh pine surrounded the lake. And by the lake, a house.

A pair of beat-up New Balances lay staggered across the fresh coat of sealant, sticking to the dock as it dried. Toby didn’t care much. She lay limp-bodied in the water, her bland clothes flowing around aimlessly, and her eyes enticed to the raging basin above her. A single bird circled the lake endlessly. As the gentle current pushed back and forth, up and down, the noise of the wind and trees cut in and out from her ears. It was calming, it was simple. And it was the only time all the noises of everything else around her were drowned out.

This moment was hers, and hers only. Not her mom’s, not her brother’s, and not anyone else’s. It was quiet to her, and it felt empty yet full. Toby wanted to believe she deserved it, and maybe she did. Empty nests of scolding couldn’t bother her, carcasses of disappointment and congealed anger couldnt distract her from this moment.

Her moment.

Splish. Splash. The current grew stronger as waves of water splashed over Toby’s paisley-patterned face. Drip. Drip. Drop. Spots of rainfall adorned the lake as the livid soup above got darker and darker. The bird was gone. Toby was cradled back and forth by the current, up and down, side to side. There was a BOOM, followed by a

streak of lightning. The moment was over. Toby hurled herself onto the now paint-streaked dock, soaking her stained sneakers. She squeezed the water out of her clothes and hair, then started heading back towards the house. When her hair was wet it looked much more brown than it did ginger. Or rather, auburn, as she liked to call it.

Cuh-koo.

Cuh-koo.

Toby heard faint coos coming from the trees. It always happened when she was near, and almost always after she got out of the water. It halted her in her pace, but the fear to look behind her was growing larger than the will to face it head-on. Koo. Cuh-koo. She felt as if it were right behind her. Almost grazing her back, breathing haphazardly. The rain became a beating drum, becoming louder and louder. Drip. drop. Drip. drop. Her shoes sunk into the wet dirt beneath, trapping her in place where she stood. Dark inky feathers almost forming shadows in front of her, becoming larger, sharper. Toby could see her breath starting to show. She felt colder now, helpless.

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. A beak protruding from its head, opening to reveal jagged razor teeth, ready to enclose on its prey. Drip. Drop. DRIP-DROP. Still Toby didn’t turn around, her heart beating faster and faster. DRIP-DROP-DRIP-DROP- This was it. Hands trembling, eyes still observing the grotesque shadow that evolved in front of her. Fear freezing her in her place. Cuh- She gave in and turned around. Koo.

It was gone.

She headed back towards the house.

Toby closed the back sliding door behind her, and took off her mud-soaked, paint-streaked beat-up sneakers to lay beside the wall. There was a faint whistling coming from the kitchen.

“The school called again.”, her mother said tiredly.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the diner?”

“Took the rest of the day off.”

“…hm”

Toby’s mother lay on the living room couch still in her work clothes, taking a long drag from her Newport menthol. She wore a loose ponytail, with stringy blonde to brown hair. Her eyes were always sunken in, with crow’s feet tugging at the corners of her lids. If not for the rouge and shaky eyeliner, her mother almost looked dead.

The living room was dimly lit, with old exposed wires coming from the ceiling where a hanging overhead lamp used to be. A glass ashtray was placed adjacent from the couch atop a rickety worn coffee table.

Old reruns of tasteless sitcoms were playing on the tv while her mother sat mindless in front of them. The wood paneling of the walls were coated in a thin film of brown sludge. After waiting a commercial break for no response from her mother, Toby headed towards the kitchen to find some leftover takeout.

The kitchen was much better lit, with a warm yellow hue coming from the overhead lights. The front right stove was on, with the dark iron kettle bubbling and steaming on top. Toby let out an exasperated sigh, knowing that her mother would never turn it off and actually pour herself a cup of tea. She trudged forward to turn the kettle off and-

“they said you’re failing a class!” Her mother yelled from across the room, then began coughing and wheezing.

“So?” Toby was a bit annoyed. She emptied out the kettle over the dishes in the sink then headed over to the fridge.

Her mother sighed, “Well tell them to stop calling me.” she said quieter, and raspier.

“Ok.”

Toby opened their stark white refrigerator, though the back was stained yellow, but that was how she always remembered it. Inside there was an array of takeout boxes, eggs that were her mom’s, a half empty

gallon of milk that was her mom’s, low fat yogurt that was her mom’s, an entire untouched Diner’s Special Chocolate-Fudge Salted Caramel Buttercream cake that was… completely off limits, a small assortment of slightly moldy fruits and vegetables, and various other things that were not exactly a meal. She opened one of the takeout boxes and grabbed a half of the three-day-old club sandwich her mother brought home from the diner, and put it on a paper plate to heat in the microwave. The sink was full of month-old dishes, the dishwasher only had a few clean ones left. Neither of them had embraced the responsibility of cleaning out the sink or putting the clean dishes away.

Outside was still raging on, but inside the rage felt calming. The low hum of the microwave and soft tapping of the rain was creating a sweet symphony. Tip tap tip tap.. hmmmmm. Toby leaned against the counter top while waiting for the microwave to announce its completion, She felt the rain from her clothes start to drip onto the floor. Drip…. Drop…. They formed tiny pools onto the linoleum flooring that slowly evaporated. Low rumbles started to erupt outside, and the rain droplets became larger. Splish splash splish splash…. Scritch scratch. A scratching sound started coming from the kitchen sink window, but just as soon as she- Beep! Beep! Beep!

Her food was done.

Toby pulled the microwave door open and grabbed the edges of the paper plate, being careful not to touch the steaming middle. She put her meal down in front of her seat at the kitchen table, then went back to close the microwave door. Ssssccrrrrrrtttchhhh… Another piercing scratch came from the window. Toby ignored it. She sat herself down in her seat, with her back facing the kitchen sink. On her left and across from her were 3 other matching wooden chairs, and a displaced dining room armchair. On her right was a big wooden rocking chair with a different grain than the rest of the set. The chair looked completely unbothered, had a deep cherry-wood stain to it, and on the headboard was engraved “For Mason” .

Toby dug into the club sandwich half, as little bits of charred chicken and lettuce fell onto the paper plate below. It kind of felt like she hadn’t eaten in ages. Eating food felt warm, and as she finished the last bite, with only crust, lettuce, and sauce left, the warm feeling was gone. Toby got up to dispose of her plate, and headed towards whe-

scccrrreeeaaaatchhhh!!!

There it was again. Toby tried to ignore it this time but it only continued, becoming more and more ear-splitting. Her back was still to the sink window, till her heels started pivoting her around. She shut her eyes quickly, and her hands curled into fists. Toby almost felt as if she were being pulled forward, inching closer by force. She had dropped the paper plate onto the linoleum, and from what she heard

it was just where the water had dripped from her sweater. Her fists were trembling, and now she was only a few feet away from the sink. SSCCCRRRRRTCHHHHH. It felt as if the whole house was shaking. Toby outstretched an arm, preparing to punch whatever messed-up creature was behind the window, happy to torment her. The glass was old, untempered and ready to break. She still kept her eyelids shut, tighter than knots of thin twine. SCCCRRRREEEEAAAAAATTTCCHH- Toby swung forward with her right hand, hitting the glass. It shattered but remained in the frame. Her fist didn’t connect with anything else but the weathered window.

She opened her eyes, and only for an instant, did she see it. And then it was gone again.

A monster.

“What the hell is wrong with you.”

Toby’s mother stood vexed in the hallway, arms crossed and still holding her Newport. She looked fed up as always, her dark circles even darker. Toby looked down at her hand. There was glass in it. Drip. drop. Drip drop.