"When a person dies, a crow carries their soul to the next world. But sometimes, something so bad happens, a great sadness is carried with them. And some times, just some times, the crow brings the soul back to set things right."
Sarah leaned against the wet rotting wood of the chapel and stared up at the gray skies that threatened to rain the moment she would begin to believe that it wouldn't. The rain was like that, it waited until she was beginning to believe that there would be sun, real sun, but there never was. It always rained first. Sarah looked over to the cemetery, where she knew Eric and Shelly were sleeping. Sleeping, that was the only way she could but it without going insane. She couldn't say they were dead, it's not just the fact she didn't want to; it was because she couldn't say so. Sarah felt tears, but she knew they wouldn't come; the last time she cried was when Eric…was when Eric came back. Yes that sounded about right, when he came back. She didn't want to say he arose from the dead, which sounded too comical. But in a way that's what he did, but he was not a zombie, but he looked like he did the last time she had seen him living. It was all still so strange, and none of it made sense. Sarah shrugged and pushed her skateboard back and forth, back and forth, just a little comforting movement to calm her down. Eric had come back to avenge Shelly almost three years ago, when Sarah was only thirteen. Now, every year she hoped he would come back just so she could see him again, but not as the avenger, decked in white make-up, but as Eric, before all of that. She must admit though, there was a strange power about him then, and it comforted her, it was comforting to see him in the makeup. But he had not come back, but that was the point, he had no reason to come back. She looked up at the gargoyles and pushed herself off the wall. She stepped on her skateboard to leave when she paused. She turned just a little and spit at the ground before the chapel. There was no God; no God was as saintly as the figure in the eyes of man. God was not supposed to take away the people you loved. God was not supposed to take away Eric and Shelly.
Sarah skated skillfully through the wet streets, the water almost threatening to spill over the board itself. It had rained more than she could ever remember. She passed crooked streets, homes long deceased, people whose lives have long been destroyed. Adults, teenagers, but the worst was dirty homeless children. Sarah tried not to look at them, the children anyway. The adults had fucked up their own lives, and they deserved what they got. She passed a group of teens talking quietly around a barrel fire, and they only gave her a glimpse before turning back to their conversation. Sarah had mixed emotions about her generation. How could they learn to be better if they had no examples? Everything was just too dark, any light was instantly quenched, sometimes in spite sometimes just because it was unfamiliar and they didn't know what to do with it. That was Sarah's theory about Eric and Shelly's deaths, they were light in the darkness, and the darkness couldn't deal with it. So the darkness stamped them out in the form of a street gang. It didn't really matter now, the gang was dead; Eric had seen to that. Sarah looked up and skidded to a stop. She looked up to the top of the dark building and looked to where the round window sat above all, a jagged hole raggedly fixed from where Eric fell to his death. The building had long been abandoned; hell it was empty before Eric came back. She was the only one who lived here now, it was her little sanctuary.
Sarah slipped through the boards and hurried up the steps, all six stories before she reached the door with Eric's band's icon still taped to the door. Sarah didn't even hesitate before she walked in. She used to stop, not sure if she wanted to go in, to awaken all of the memories, but she found soon enough that living in Shelly and Eric's old home gave her more comfort then her own home ever would. Oh yes, here mother had been the best mother she had remembered after Eric visit, but after two years she went back to the drugs and within six months she too lay six feet under in the same dirt as Eric and Shelly. Sarah didn't think her mother deserved to be even near Eric and Shelly, but she had no say. After that she was adopted by officer Albrecht, and she still lived with him to this day, but when she needed just to be alone or to remember and savor times before the only good times in her life, all of which happened in this apartment. She dropped her skateboard by the door and plunked down in a tattered chair, pulling her knees to her chin. She had cleaned up the apartment a little, the best she could anyway. Looters had taken most of the things here, but even looters have some dignity and had left some things behind. There was a desk still, and a table, and few broken chairs a big chair, the wardrobe, pictures, candles, some artwork, and other little things. Sarah couldn't do much about the peeling wallpaper or the broken window or the leaks in the roof. But she didn't care; this was it, this was home. The bed was gone, but she was glad, from what she had heard, that's where Shelly spent most of the last terrible evening of her life. She had cleaned up things pretty well, and it looked a little better but not much. She had left Eric's desk alone, candles and his makeup sat untouched from where he had last touched them. Sarah knew she might have been being a little paranoid but she didn't want to let go. Sarah sat there for only a few moments before she stood and walked slowly about the room, her feet trailing through puddles, and her mind adrift. But it was getting cold, and dark and it was time to go home. She walked to the window and peered into the rain.
"Eric…Shelly…I miss you." She whispered. She then turned and ran out of the room and out of the building as fast as she could. She ran for three blocks, before she remembered her skateboard still in the loft.
It rained even harder that night. As Sarah turned off her light to sleep she thought she heard the fluttering of wings. She turned eagerly to the window, hoping to see a crow, because if it were the crow, then Eric would be near. Sarah nearly laughed at herself. Every crow she had seen she had thought to be Eric's crow. She did laugh then and crawled into bed when her laughter quickly turned to sobs.
The rain continued long into the night. A crow perched on the black limb of a naked tree and ruffled it's feathers against the cold. He directed a beady eye at the grave of Eric Draven. It waited. The night grew colder, but it waited. Then at eleven o clock, the time at which Eric had drawn his last breath, the wet earth began to crack and shake and rise. Soon a coffin door opened, and for the second time, Eric Draven rose from the grave. Eric took a few shuddering breaths and then tried to stand, but fell forward into the mud. He kept gasping, as he rolled onto his back where his eyes landed on the crow who looked down on him with a look similar to sympathy. Eric glowered at him.
"Why?" He whispered through gritted teeth.