Free Amid the Recesses: A Short Story Collection of Fear by J. A. Crook

close.
    The light went out and the
door closed. Desirae fell asleep.
     
    Tap, tap, tap.
     
    Desirae shot up. Sam was
gone.
    “ Sam?” She
cried.
    She looked to the window
and found the crow. A smothering buzz of flapping wings and cawing
lurched in a bassy drone behind the feathered harbinger. Desirae
peeled the comforter away and swung her bare feet and pajama-clad
legs from the bed. Her toes dug into the padded carpet. She adopted
an unnatural grace in her trek toward the window. She did not want
to disturb the creature. When she arrived at the window, her jaw
fell and her mouth hung open.
    A cloud of miasmic black
thickened the sky and turned a dark night into a vacuous space
without stars. Her aunt’s green yard was a dusky sea that pulsated
in rhythm with her frantic, young heart. She sat in a mild
sanctuary at the center of a flapping tornado beyond the window.
Haunting, dark birds with their violent grey eyes were the churning
wind of the abysmal funnel. The crow at the window observed her
shock. Her eyes drifted from the cawing cataclysm to the lone bird
on the sill. She neared it. A rebellious smack of its sharp beak
against the window sent a crack vertically through the thin pane.
Desirae shot back and screamed for her aunt. Her voice was
swallowed by the swell of the birds’ rage. The crow watched her. It
cocked its black head back and prepared for another strike. Then,
without apparent reason, it stopped and hopped to its right. The
crow looked around Desirae. No later it flew into the mass of
darkness behind it.
    Desirae sat in silence. She
burst from her place on the ground and kneeled in front of the
cracked window. The birds began to disperse. Something shuffled
behind her. Her small hands clutched the inner sill of the window.
Her curiosity took her and overcame an intensifying fear—she turned
around. She kept her eyes on the carpet. She saw large, brown
leather boots, soiled and stained with thick, unknown muck. Her
eyes rose. She saw torn denim overalls and a checkered white and
red shirt. Her eyes rose. She saw the sewn mouth and large button
eyes. Her eyes rose. She saw scraggly black hair under a large
brimmed straw hat. She saw Sam.
     
    RETURN TO THE TABLE OF
CONTENTS

At the Bottom
     
    The camera focused in and
out. The cameraman zoomed in on the grinning face, the long, greasy
hair. It was a wild man’s grin. It was uneasy.
    “ Am I okay?” He had a deep
voice. “Should I move?” He adjusted without
recommendation.
    “ No, no, Eddie. You’re
fine.”
    “ Yeah?”
    “ Alright. This is simple.
We’re just going to ask you some questions and you’re going to
answer them. However you like. No stress.” The cameraman
said.
    “ No stress.” Eddie laughed
and nodded. Sweat covered his head. He fidgeted. The red light of
the camera stared at Eddie like the devil’s eye. He pulled at his
collar as the questions began.
    “ Alright, Eddie. How long
have you been a compulsive hoarder, would you say?”
    Eddie paused. “Five years?
That’s when things…” He gestured behind him.
    The cameras followed the command of
his gesture.
    Stuffed animals and board
games, porcelain trinkets and trash, old magazines and newspapers,
toys and gardening equipment—a large room made small. Piles of
items merged into shapeless masses. The smell of trash overwhelmed
the sight of it. Eddie sat in a silence so thick that he heard the
spinning gears of the cameras zoom.
    “ This is me.” His twisted
grin faded to embarrassed solemnity. “Can we stop?”
    The cameraman looked around
the camera to Eddie. He lowered the camera, but the red recording
light remained lit. “Eddie, we just started. You’re gonna to have
to be patient, alright?” The cameraman smiled. “I know this is hard
for you.”
    Eddie shook his head. “You
sure?”
    The cameraman sighed. “Work
with us. Let us swing these cameras around a bit, answer some
questions and we’ll get you help you need. It’ll come free of
charge.