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Description
“He’s not human!”

“Yes, he is! Dad, please, stop!”

The young boy sat, hugging his knees to his chest, leaning against the door.

They thought he couldn’t hear them. But he could.

He always did.

His shaggy black hair covered his piercing blue eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks. Sniffling, he wiped them away with the back of his shirtsleeve.

Duncan didn’t know much about what his granddad and grandma did, but he knew enough to know it wasn’t exactly normal.

They were some kind of hunters… and sometimes, he felt like the hunted.

Grandma was nice enough to him, but granddad was… different. He looked at Duncan the way he’d look at the dirty dishes in the sink, or the way you’d look at complicated math homework that didn’t make sense and just got you angry.

He’s not human.

Duncan was pretty sure he was human, last he checked. He didn’t turn into a wolf or drink blood or sparkle or fly or anything so he just didn’t understand why his granddad always said that he wasn’t human.

He had five fingers on each hand, five toes on each foot; two arms, two legs… he didn’t have an extra head or anything like that.

The only things different about him were that he didn’t mind the cold. He could outrun all the other kids in his class, too. Like, really outrun them. He also didn’t sleep much or get tired pulling things or carrying things or anything like that.

But how did that make him not human?

Uncovering his face from the safe hold behind his knees, he breathed in. his nose picked up a plethora of different floral scents, his ears heard the twittering of the birds in the back of the room.

He was in his grandma’s solarium. It was bright and warm here.

Sometimes, whenever his granddad hurt his feelings, he’d come hide in here. It was his favourite room in the house; bright, colourful flowers, so carefully taken care of and nurtured by his grandma, brilliantly turning the room into Spring.

He got up slowly, and walked to the back, by the large window where the bird cage was kept.

His grandma had a stunning few birds. They were bright and colourful, and sung such sad, sweet songs.

But they were trapped, kinda like how Duncan felt.

Trapped in a cage.

Just like the colourful birds and their sad songs.

He sunk down beside the cages, listening to those birds.

HE IS NOT HUMAN.

“I am human,” Duncan murmured, the back of his eyes burning.

Stupid cages. Stupid granddad and his stupid hunting.

Angrily, Duncan semi shouted, “I AM HUMAN.”

And he opened the doors to the bird cages.

They flew out, happily, perching on the branches and sitting on top of the cages, free for a little bit.

One day, Duncan thought, I’ll be free, like those birds. One day, someone will open up my cage, and I can fly away from granddad, and find my real dad.

He smiled, sitting down on the floor, watching the birds fly and soar around him.

“I am human.”

Description
“He’s not human!”

“Yes, he is! Dad, please, stop!”

The young boy sat, hugging his knees to his chest, leaning against the door.

They thought he couldn’t hear them. But he could.

He always did.

His shaggy black hair covered his piercing blue eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks. Sniffling, he wiped them away with the back of his shirtsleeve.

Duncan didn’t know much about what his granddad and grandma did, but he knew enough to know it wasn’t exactly normal.

They were some kind of hunters… and sometimes, he felt like the hunted.

Grandma was nice enough to him, but granddad was… different. He looked at Duncan the way he’d look at the dirty dishes in the sink, or the way you’d look at complicated math homework that didn’t make sense and just got you angry.

He’s not human.

Duncan was pretty sure he was human, last he checked. He didn’t turn into a wolf or drink blood or sparkle or fly or anything so he just didn’t understand why his granddad always said that he wasn’t human.

He had five fingers on each hand, five toes on each foot; two arms, two legs… he didn’t have an extra head or anything like that.

The only things different about him were that he didn’t mind the cold. He could outrun all the other kids in his class, too. Like, really outrun them. He also didn’t sleep much or get tired pulling things or carrying things or anything like that.

But how did that make him not human?

Uncovering his face from the safe hold behind his knees, he breathed in. his nose picked up a plethora of different floral scents, his ears heard the twittering of the birds in the back of the room.

He was in his grandma’s solarium. It was bright and warm here.

Sometimes, whenever his granddad hurt his feelings, he’d come hide in here. It was his favourite room in the house; bright, colourful flowers, so carefully taken care of and nurtured by his grandma, brilliantly turning the room into Spring.

He got up slowly, and walked to the back, by the large window where the bird cage was kept.

His grandma had a stunning few birds. They were bright and colourful, and sung such sad, sweet songs.

But they were trapped, kinda like how Duncan felt.

Trapped in a cage.

Just like the colourful birds and their sad songs.

He sunk down beside the cages, listening to those birds.

HE IS NOT HUMAN.

“I am human,” Duncan murmured, the back of his eyes burning.

Stupid cages. Stupid granddad and his stupid hunting.

Angrily, Duncan semi shouted, “I AM HUMAN.”

And he opened the doors to the bird cages.

They flew out, happily, perching on the branches and sitting on top of the cages, free for a little bit.

One day, Duncan thought, I’ll be free, like those birds. One day, someone will open up my cage, and I can fly away from granddad, and find my real dad.

He smiled, sitting down on the floor, watching the birds fly and soar around him.

“I am human.”