I was sitting at my desk when a bird flies through the screen, straight at my face. I smack it away from me and it bounces off the wall and onto my bed where it starts flapping around. I look back to the window and see another bird heading straight for me, so I slide it shut just before its body slams into the glass and then flops to the garden bellow. The bird on the bed is tangled in my sheets and is madly trying to free itself.

From then on my life was madness. Birds were slamming into my house and trying to break in and **** me constantly. The police and then the FBI and soon all organizations were involved, trying to figure out what was drawing these murderous animals to me. At first they had moved me around the state, then the country, yet no matter where I went it made no difference.  Day in and day out birds would pile up outside wherever I was 'hiding', killing themselves from slamming into the buildings. Eventually they brought me deep into a mountain but even still, this didn’t slow them down. As the weeks passed it was obvious that soon there would be no birds left on the planet. Winged demons from all over the world were flying to wherever I happened to be, all bent on trying to **** me. So many birds slammed into that mountainside that it changed the way it looked.

Once all the birds had died I was finally able to leave the mountain and live a relatively normal life, though quite a few people were upset about the situation. I was reminded constantly of what happened and the world felt different for a while, quieter, and cleaner. You wouldn’t think so but living in a city without any pigeons or bird **** makes quite a difference!

Eventually I settled into a career and had children and forgot all about it, as my days are now preoccupied with thoughts of suicide.