The Birds

I'm scared to death of birds. I have no idea what traumatic childhood event I was a part of that caused this semi-irrational fear, but whatever. Birds are scary, as this little girl will tell you.

A while ago, I went with Elaine to the duck pond near our apartment. I thought that feeding our leftover, moldy bread to the ducks wouldn't be too daring and that I would be able to handle it. False. Everything was going fine until I realized that there was a duck directly underneath me. He was hiding under the rock that I was crouching on. I looked down, he looked up at me with his beady, soulless eyes and quacked. I screamed and jumped up, running towards the street as the couples situated all around the pond turned to glare at me because I had interrupted their public make-out sessions.

So, I decided that feeding the ducks may not be the best idea for me anymore. I have to walk by the duck pond everyday on my way to school, and I swear that one duck remembers me. He'll stand on the sidewalk in front of me, staring at me with those creepy eyes, just daring me to try and walk towards him. He wins and I side-step him every single time.

Last week, I was walking home from school. The duck pond was far behind me, and I was carefree. I was bouncing past the parking lot lined with bushes when I heard something rustle. I stopped. Fear overwhelmed me as I turned and looked towards the bush that was still shaking with movement. I barely had time to recognize the fact that the duck was waddling maliciously towards me before I turned and ran, screaming, into the road. The fifty or so people that were also walking along that street all stopped at once and stared at the crazy girl running away from what I'm sure they thought was an adorable creature of God. Only I knew that that duck was out for vengeance.