Morbid Tale      by Daphne Chang

    Hi. My name's Raven. Yeah. Raven. As in black birds. No. My parents aren't
hippies. You saw them. Those well-pressed shirts, expensive suits…I chose this name
when I was a kid. Why? I don't know. The sound of it just attracts me. Dark-feathered
birds. Doesn’t it sound so mystical? Raven...I know what it symbolizes. You don't need
to tell me. In fact, this is what I need to talk to you about. Can you lend me an ear? Of
course you can. You are my psychiatrist. This is what you’re paid to do! Wait! Don’t get
up. You don’t need that writing pad. Just sit down and listen! Please. I really want to talk
without interruption. Thank you.
    This is going to be really boring. But you seriously need to know all of this first. Then maybe
you’ll understand why I’m here. Or rather, why my parents made me come here. How old
were you when you realized that there's such thing as death? Don’t just smile! Answer my
question please. Five or six? Yeah. I thought so. That’s when most people realize it too.
    You know how little kids learned it first when their fish died? It's not like that with me. The
first death that I'd witnessed was my grandfather's...I think. And then it was my preschool classmate.
    And I start asking my parents about death when I was three. Not silly things like, "Is heaven at the
other end of the toilet?" No. In-depth questions like, "Does people still live on after they die?"
    Since my first funeral -yes, I do remember- I had dreams about a dark place. There’s no light.
It’s wet and musty. When I was little, I use to wake up, shaking and dripping with cold sweat,
screaming and crying. But now I’m use to it. In fact, I kind of like it. I mean, it’s so peaceful…in a
way. It’s so quiet there. You can actually feel things in the air. Despair, joy, relief, anger…
    You can imagine how freaked out my parents got, with all the questions and the dreams.
    And then...as I grew older, more and more things begin to happen around me. All my pets died
almost immediately. Then there was other-
    What? You want me stop? Why? Come on. Just sit down. And relax. You don’t have to worry
about me going crazy on you. I’m perfectly sane. Look at me. I’m just a girl. I can’t do anything. I’m just confused.
    What do you mean? You want to send me to an asylum? Yeah…I can read what you’re writing even from here.
I guess I forgot to tell you that have really good eyes. But…
    What do you mean by asylum? I’m not insane! I have no mental problem! I mean, look at my medical record. It’s there. That one. The red folder. Look. There’s nothing wrong with me! My parents just send me to you so that I can have someone to talk to.
    You see? Perfect record. There’s nothing wrong with me. I mean, NOTHING at all. How many people do you know never get sick before in their life? Just my genetics I guess. Which is rather ironic…with all the deaths that I’d witnessed before. I think-
    I’m not insane! I will not just get a chainsaw and start whacking you with it! You don’t need to look so afraid! No…I’m not angry. I just don’t know why you want to send me to an asylum. No! I know what I saw! Stop talking to me like I’m a freak! That’s the one thing-
    Do not make me angry! Please…believe me…I’m asking you again…don’t keep asking me…
    I’M NOT INSANE! And I’m not a freak! I’m perfectly fine! Why don’t you people understand that? Why do you keep asking me that? I’m a human! A girl! Just a girl with some bad coincidences! Not everyone I know just dies! I mean, my parents had known me for sixteen years…you don’t see them dead!
    What’s my mother’s name? Lydia.
    Yes! That is her name…
    Why she wrote her occupation as dead? How am I suppose to know? And my dad too? I don’t know! They have weird sense of humor. You want me to calm down? Yeah. I guess I am over-reacting a little bit. All right. I’ll sit down.
    Water? No thanks. I can’t stand water…I’m fine. Really.
    So now, where were we? Oh yeah. Why do you want to send me to an asylum? I’m fine. Honestly. Stop looking at me like I’m the Grim Reaper. Come on, doctor. You’re a man of science and technology. You don’t believe in the Grim Reaper do you? Look at me. I’m just a girl! There’s nothing dangerous about me. And I’m going to repeat myself again, I’m perfectly sane!
    All right…I’m calm. No…I’m not angry…but my head hurts.
    Hey. Look at that. There. Outside the window. On the tree branch. See it?
    A raven.

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