Overfamiliar

Written by Hannah Shapley

Leaves rustled. The sun cast warming rays down and the kookaburras laughed -- a perfect day. The taste of my coffee and my pizza just made this moment better. As I brought my chicken pizza to my mouth, the inviting smell filling my nostrils, I heard a high pitched wail. 

“Emily kicked me!!!” Groaning, I got up. What stupid little child had ruined this moment? A young girl, probably in kindergarten, ran up to me. Her eyes were red with tears and her long blond hair looked like a whirlwind. I sighed. “Where did she kick you?” The child pointed to her left arm and sniffed, there wasn’t any sign of a mark at all. “On a scale of 1 to 10 how much does it hurt?”

“One thousand million!!!!!” She cried and burst into tears. “Please go and get Emily for me,” I told her. She nodded and ran off. I sat down to wait for her to come back, eating another slice of pizza. I noticed a few kookaburras helping themselves to some crumbs dropped by some kids who had just vacated their spot. There were a lot of kookaburras at Springfield Public. This was very common.

The little girl came back with another girl who looked about 10 years old. “Emily,” I said, “why did you kick her?”

“It was an accident. I was playing soccer and this one ran right in front of me,” Emily protested, gesturing at the kindy.

“OK, well at least say sorry.” Emily huffed, like I had told her to do some impossible task. “Fine! I’m sorry.” Smiling, I waved the 2 children off and took a bite of my pizza, which had now gone cold. I left the remains out for the kookaburras.

The lessons I had to teach were so boring that I wondered if the person who made them was trying to make us go insane. Nevertheless I taught them like a dutiful teacher. When it finally reached 3 o’clock I was exhausted. I had a horrible headache that only got worse when I passed under the kookaburras and their laughing got louder. Putting my fingers in my ears I walked to the bus stop and went home.

I run to the school gate, locked. I hear the laughing, It’s menacing and promises pain. I fumble with the lock, reaching into my pocket. Where are my keys? The sounds are getting louder. The birds are getting closer. I turn around. Three kookaburras are there. They're surrounding me, eyes hungry. Somehow they are getting bigger and they seem to radiate danger. A blue and pink beak shoots down to my foot. Where are my shoes? I had them a second ago! I cry out and through my fear I see the deep red blood dripping down onto the grass. It’s strangely thick, like slime. When it touches the grass it floats upwards to the clouds. The blood is blocking my vision. But I can just see another giant beak coming down on my bare feet and I stumble back into - NOTHING! I tumble off the grass, I am falling. Why am I falling? There is nothing around me but air, and nothing below me but…

I bolted upright in my bed, sweat dripping from my forehead. Sun was shining through my long dark blue curtains. What time is it? I wondered. I looked to my left at the alarm clock, 7:40!? I hurried out of bed. I opened my brown wooden closet and picked out a dark blue shirt. I also grabbed some black tights on my way to the kitchen. Glancing at my clock I regretfully skipped breakfast. Hurriedly, I grabbed my navy blue bag and ran out the front door, slamming it behind me. 

My breath makes its way in and out of my mouth far quicker than I would’ve liked. Despite the cold breeze billowing at me from all directions I was hot. My feet felt horrible with pain and my arms ached from carrying my bag. I reached into my pocket for my keys. They were there, this was not a dream. The jagged golden edge does its magic and I am admitted into the school grounds. Brown and blue wings flap before my eyes. Beaks opening wide, almost smiling, laughing. I flinched backward as an actual kookaburra landed in front of me. Its beak looked too sharp for comfort and it tilted its head like it was studying me. Its tiny eye stared at me, its pupils dilated as it looked.

Thumping on pavement accompanied by shouts of my name broke my attention. I looked over my shoulder to see Madalyn, my colleague. I smile grimly at her as she chatters on about god knows what. All I can think about is the animals' round yellow eyes. “Juanita? Hey, you in there?” I turned to face her and tried to sound confident. “Yeah. I’m just thinking about the lessons they make us teach. They're so boring. I don’t know how the students stand it!” Madalyn frowned at me. “I… I don’t think they're that bad. Plus we’re allowed to slightly modify them.” 

“What do you think I do? Hate the curriculum yet stick to it exactly?? I’ve already gotten 2 warnings about not teaching my lessons properly!” I heard her fail to stifle a gasp and she said, “Juanita! You could lose your job. You have to be more careful with this stuff.” Sighing, I glance at her mournfully. “The only reason I keep this job is so that one day… one day I might be able to change the curriculum and make it more enjoyable.” Even though she tried to hide it I could see the doubt clouding Madalyn’s eyes. I felt that too.

Thankfully, I wasn’t on duty that day. Instead I ate in the staffroom, chatting to the other teachers. The whole school had won a longer lunch break, so we had pulled out a game of monopoly. Although the game provided me a little bit of a distraction, I didn’t miss the kids coming in. There might’ve been around seven or more, asking for food. “Kookaburras stole my sandwich!” A girl I recognised as Emily said. “It swooped in and took it, just like that.” She motioned with her hand the swooping motion the bird did, a great big arc. Me and the other teachers had discussed idly about why the kookaburras were becoming so aggressive. We came to the conclusion that it must be something about the weather. I glanced out the window. There was nothing strange about the weather today.

An assembly was held in the last session. The principal spoke about the kookaburras, telling everyone to be careful. He warned the kids to hold onto their lunches.

At lunch the next day more kids than I could believe streamed into the staffroom, complaining about scratches on their hands or even faces. Although the injuries were all different, all of the kids shared two things. All had their lunches stolen and all said that it was done by kookaburras. In the worst cases the kids had to be sent home. It was really horrific. Why are the kookaburras doing this? I wondered. 

Another assembly took place that day, talking about our new lunch break system. All the children and any teachers on duty would play on the field and then come back to the hall to eat. This way the kookaburras couldn’t steal their food. We tested it out and it worked perfectly. The mischievous birds were sitting high above, waiting for a child with food. Sometimes they swooped down, only to realise that nobody at all had any food. 

Pinpricks of pain hit my shoulders. I look up through the cloud of blood to see the looming shapes of birds. Giant brown wings with a spark of blue whooshed, cutting the air. Yellow eyes gleam in the dim moonlight. I try to scream, but all I manage is to blow bubbles out of my mouth. Bubbles? I take deep gulps of a strange liquid, not water. It’s red and oozes around me, blood. The pain in my shoulders amplifies and I gasp in more blood, I can breathe it. Flapping becomes louder and a hollow laugh follows it. My feet can’t find another footing, I am being lifted. All at once the blood, pain and birds disappear. In front of me is a brown wooden slab, with nothing on the other side, a door. I put my hand on the golden door knob but pull back. It’s burning me. Suddenly, a thing I immediately recognize as a bird beak shoves its way through the middle door. It is giant and the wood gives way, crumpling to the floor. I jump back and look on the other side, nothing’s there. But this time the bird opens the remains of the door. On the other side is no bird. Instead it is my bedroom. My queen bed is a mess and my clothes spill out of my closet. I step through.

This time when I looked at my alarm clock it read 6:15. Good. In no particular hurry I got up and made my bed neatly, got changed into the appropriate clothes and ate a large breakfast. I met Madalyn at the bus stop that day and chatted to her about kookaburras. I told her about my nightmares and how for some reason they unnerved me.

She laughed, which only reminded me of the hollow cackle in my dreams. Elbowing my side she said, “Juanita, c’mon! You’ve been acting so weird recently.” Suddenly, she turned to face me, her expression anything but casual. “Look, I know you’re freaked out by the kookaburras but you’re being stupid. It’s not like the kookaburras can kill us. We’ve got the situation under control.” I knew her words should’ve been comforting, but they didn’t quench my fears in the slightest. Madalyne huffed. Apparently I hadn’t hid how little that helped me well enough. Throwing a joking glare my way, Madalyne teasingly said, “You know that you are insufferable Juanita. It’s only 6:50 and I’m already sick of you! It usually takes around 1 pm for your depression to overwhelm me too, you know,” Then she glanced at her watch. “Oh shit! Not 6:50!! 7:15, bye bye Juanita. Gotta get to a class.” She ran off, her short black hair flying behind her. 

Nobody was inside the staffroom when I entered. As I stepped overthe threshold the ice cold temperature hit me. Someone had left the aircon on overnight. Grabbing the remote I turned the heating on, yanking my beanie from my bag and shoving it onto my head. It was November so I had to work on all the children's report cards. Looking back at the notes I had written in class I wrote down my feedback, Finn is a great kid and is always well behaved. Done. 

Going outside for recess I sat down on the grass. My stomach rumbled. It hadn’t gotten used to the new break times. I heard the rustling of leaves above my head and looked up. Beady yellow eyes glared down at me. At first I thought there was only one bird, but then I saw the many wings and tails and claws all fighting for space in the tree. When they all settled I realised they were in a sort of circle. Out of nowhere they all started laughing, like they were in a meeting. The riot of kookaburras stayed like that for a while. Sometimes glancing down at the kids playing. Even though I knew it was crazy I knew that the horrible birds were planning something. A shiver went down my spine as I started to suspect what that plan involved.

From then on I volunteered to be on duty every break. Unfortunately, I didn’t always get it. Every time I had to sit in the staffroom, unable to watch over the kookaburras, a lump formed in my throat. I was possibly the only person in the world who had any idea about the birds’ plan. I needed to stop them.

I was on edge all week, terrified that the laughing menaces were going to do something. Thankfully the other teachers had let me go on duty that lunch. The kookaburras were laughing louder than usual. This time, not like they were talking, but like they were actually laughing about something funny.

I heard the single flap of wings and looked up. One solitary bird flew out. It hovered over a young boy. He looked up laughing and tried to pat it with his friends. They didn’t see the cloud of sharp beaks and claws rocketing toward him. My blood ran cold. At least fifty birds surrounded him. His screams pierced the air and even from the other side of the field I could see his terrified face. His screams carried pain and shouts of help, but nobody stepped forward, everyone was frozen. The cloud lifted upward, carrying the boy with it. Tears streamed from my eyes, I came here to protect the children. To protect him. I failed, I FAILED! The brown and blue mass was more of a blotch in the sky now, the boy was or will soon be dead. 

His screams will always flow in my blood, be engraved in my skin. I remember every detail of his terrified face before it disappeared behind a flurry of flapping wings. Someone called my name, but I didn’t hear them, not really. I couldn’t bear to hear the name of someone who failed, me who failed. “Juanita! Where did they take Frank?? How do we get him back??” Numb to any feelings I looked down but didn’t really look at the child. “He’s gone…” 

“No!! My brother can’t be gone like that! He’s only in kindy.” I forced myself to focus my eyes. A boy probably in Year 2 stood there, tears streaming down his face. But what did I care if he was sad? “Shut up! He’s gone, ok. Frank’s gone.” With those words my legs failed me. I was now level with the boy. “I’m sorry, what’s your name?” 

“My name’s Fergus. I just can’t believe…,” Fergus’s voice cracked but he continued anyway, “I can’t believe he’s gone, how…” My heart warmed for this poor child. “C’mon,” I said, “let's get you home.”

I decided to walk home, breathing in the scents of the trees and grass. When I got there I sat on my bed and slept. I hadn’t realised I was so tired but as my head touched my pillow I descended into darkness.