A small bird landed on my windowsill, it's tiny black eyes seeming to stare right at me through the dirty glass. I stared back, by own larger yet equally dark irises watching it as it hoped along the pane. I didn't blink. If I did, it would fly away and leave me alone in this silent hellish existence. No, I'd rather have my eyes burn a little than return to that.

Even so, my dedication to keeping some sort of companion was not enough to keep the bird in place. It flitted away, not even leaving a small feather for me to remember it by. It was getting harder for me to really remember things now if I didn't have some physical evidence to really proved it existed. My grasp on reality had just slipped to far from my fingers.

I sighed, looking away from the broken glass and old plywood that made my window. My gaze returned to the wall, where a cryptic message that made no sense, even to me, had appeared since I had left. Maybe I had left it there, and could no longer recollect my actions. Perhaps. Crazy, malnourished fucks like me blacked out sometimes, right? It was possible, wasn't it?

I sank deeper into the old soiled cushions of my couch, it's old springs less than comfortable as they poked against my bony frame. I am almost sure it used to be comfortable, but I'm absolutely positive it isn't now. Nothing in this shack I call a home is. No longer do I find some kind of pleasure in the bloody smears along the floor and walls, nor do I have any fascination with the various torture devices in the expansive reaches of my basement. Not even the screams of those that were unfortunate enough to be lured or dragged here sparked any interest in me anymore.

Was I, Johnny "Nny" C. becoming bored with the life of a serial killer? Am I ascending above the madness, or am I just sinking deeper into my personal hell? I can't tell. As I said, my perception of reality was far from keen.

I directed my gaze to the window again. Maybe the little bird will come back an stay this time. Maybe I should put something out for it. Maybe then it will have a reason to keep me company. Perhaps I could catch it and put it in a little cage, feeding it and keeping it safe from the world that is so corrupt and filthy in it's superficial beauty.

But no, I couldn't. I'll just do to it like I did to Nailbunny. And I don't know if I'll care or not. I'm not sure if I cared then. Again, I sigh. It's becoming a bit of a habit, like someone biting their nails when they're stressed. But I'm not stressed, at least I don't think I am.

I looked down, remembering I did have a companion in this house, though it wasn't making any noise at the moment. A deep pool of red surrounded it like a moat. "So, what did you think of last nights episode of Scumby? Pretty funny, right?" It didn't say anything. I nudged it with my boot, they steel tip of it becoming stained red. "Oh, yeah…Jeez I forgot, I have to bury you tonight. Sorry about that." I said, slapping my forehead, smiling a bit.

I returned my gaze to the window, but couldn't remember what was so interesting about it. I shrugged and turned on the TV, taking solace that I had something interesting to do later. And hey, maybe I can get back into the spirit and get my little buddy here a friend to go along the ride with!

Fin

Feather of a forgetful mind.