Doom and RevengeBy Max
Doom and Revenge
Screech! I slide across the rocky pavement like a rag doll. Rocks in my feathers and blood on my stomach. I’m flailing as I try to stand. He has been at me all day at school. My heart pounding, legs shaking.
“Not again!” I think to myself. “Can’t let him get in,” I croak.
The big, buff cockatoo slowly walks to my half wrecked body.
“Oscar, why do you do this to me?” I ask as my mouth foams with dread.
“Because I can!” he squawks.
His shoulders square as he stand over me like a monster. I feel his hot breath burn my face and I see his dry lips and broken teeth twitch into a terrifying smile. He looks around and around to see if anyone is watching. The last thing I see is his bony fist heading straight towards my face.
“Deep breaths Max, deep breaths,” a soft whisper lingers at the back of my head.
My eyes flutter open. “What… what. Where am I?” I stutter.
“Somewhere safe.” The voice replies. As my sight starts to get back to normal my vision clears and I see a big pot-bellied owl staring me dead in the eyes. His features as pointy as a knife. I look around the room and see lots of beams and bright lights blurring more of my vision. Lots of papers and documents fill large desks. It is a very boring and grey room like an old abandoned warehouse with only limited essentials.
“I’m Po, this is home. I would like to introduce my house and my friend, Beau,” he says in a deep hollow voice.
In the corner, a taller eagle with a slick hairstyle hobbles over to us and explains.
“Hi Max, it’s a pleasure to meet you. As you have been told this is Po’s basement in his house.”
“We call our group B.B.O,” Po adds.
I want to ask so many questions. What, when, how, why? But it all comes out as, “Whatwhenhowwhy?”
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions but first I would like to tell what our order stands for. BBO stands for Beating Bad Oscar,” Beau replies with an award winning tone.
He stands in the corner munching on a dried honey biscuit mixed with a range of seeds.
“Before you ask any more questions, we must leave right away. Oscar is leaving on migration and we must give him payback for what he did to you. We have been watching Oscar be mean to you for the last few months,” Po adds as he rubs his large stomach.
My mind is jumbled. I can’t figure out what to say. All I can do is nod as we fly and speed over to Oscar’s house.
When we arrive, Oscar is beating up a rubber dummy. In between the punches he pretends to dodge and then punch again. His shiny egg tooth beak getting darker after every punch. His house is dark and miserable with a painfully black tint.
“Hey Oscar, “ Beau calls out as he closes down his wings with aggression.
“Who are you and what is Max doing here?” Oscar asks when he pivots his body to face us.
“I’m here because I was told to come here. I would also like to see this group avenge me, after what you’ve been doing to me for the last few months,” I reply in my best brave voice.
“Bring it on,” Oscar squawks.
He bolts towards me with a knuckle duster between his feathery hand. I yelp as I try to rush back into the air. I am breathing so intensely I think I will take up all the oxygen in the world. My legs are wobbly. My mind is screaming. But before Oscar can punch me, Beau lets out a leg that flings him through the yard. I can see the anger burning through Oscar’s body. His body looks crooked. He stands up and limps over to Beau. But before he can clench his fist, he is scrambling, trying to flap his wings in the now dusty air, his mangled body not allowing him to do anything. He roughly lands on the ground and stomps off to his house.
“Who are you?” Oscar asks.
“Someone,” he replies and with that we fly into the distance, my body finally loosening as my heart softens with relief. Could this be the last time Oscar abuses me?