Mother always said she liked shiny things. She loved feathers, too… I thought it was just some silly obsession, until she stole my new silver necklace…

Mother’s always loved shiny things. Even when I was a kid, playing in the sandbox like any other ‘normal’ child, she would start screaming and hopping up and down when she found a bit of tinsel or foil on the ground. I learned to ignore it.

Mother’s always loved feathers, too. Not just any feathers, but raven and crow feathers. She said she liked that they were black, like her hair and eyes. I ignored her when she tried to be a bird, sqwuaking like a mental retardie.

To tell the truth, I thought she was.

Mother did a good job of taking care of me though. I never said anything. Not even when she tried to feed me worms. How was I supposed to know something was really wrong with her?

I was thirteen when mother stole my silver necklace. My boyfriend, Lance, had given it to me the day before for my birthday. I had loved that necklace, for it had a little heart on it. But my mother stole it.

I had stomped into her room, screaming at her to give it back. She sort of cocked her head at me, like a bird. Then I saw the bed.

Mother had made a nest out of the things she had collected and her sheets.

“What is wrong with you?” I demanded, tearing the human-sized nest apart. “Your some kind of freak!”
Mother didn’t understand. She never did. Only enough to pay for stuff, but even now she can’t do that. I have to do everything.

It was a week later that I found my mother writhing on the ground in the middle of the living room, her flesh being torn from the inside. Her eyes were rolled into her head, and in her hand was my necklace. I screamed for help, but no one came. It was only a matter of minutes before mother was just a heap of flesh, and in the middle of it was a raven. It had my necklace in it’s beak.

It was my mother.