“Hideous things,” I said, and then scowled at the monsters at my feet. I grabbed a handful of bread crumbs from my brown paper bag and tossed them towards the creatures. The scurried around in an ugly sort of dance and pecked them up. I scowled again.

Petulantly, I kick my heel out and they flapped their foul wings as if making an escape but landed a mere two feet away only to simply dart back, their large red eyes glaring and misshapen beaks gaping.

I hastily grabbed a handful of crumbs and threw it at the creatures. They each took a quick step back before moving again to put the crumbs into their gullet. I glared at their bobbing heads. They were never grateful for my sacrifice of a meal. I feed them crumbs once a week to keep their glazed red eyes out of my dreams. It seemed to fend them off but it did nothing to aide their disfigured appearance.

It was odd that passers-by didn’t stare at them more. I sure did. Every time I passed I couldn’t keep my eyes off them. It seemed likewise for them also; and for any other being for that matter. Everywhere I went; all eyes were glued to me. It despised their accusing looks but I couldn’t escape them.

The monsters at my feet grew closer in impatience and I quickly tossed another handful of crumbs at them. My gaze caught that of one of the beasts and I found myself transfixed. The rouge gaze was so cold. It sent a shiver of uncertainty through me.

A voice brought me from my stupor. Such a pretty voice, I thought. I let it ring through me before I looked up at its owner. The voice matched the woman. She smiled at me.

“Charlie.” She said warmly, accompanying her word with another smile.

“Margo.” I recognized her suddenly. I don’t always though. Sometimes I’ll speak with her as if she’s a stranger until she verifies her identity. Sometimes I don’t ever know it’s her until weeks later when she brings up a past conversation. See, she comes to me in different forms. I appreciate her current one and return the warm smile. “S’nice to see you again.”

“Likewise.” She took on a pondering look. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” I nodded. She turned her gaze to the animals at our feet. “You still feed those things.” It was a statement. Margo knew a lot about me and rarely questioned my actions. She simply knew.

“I must.” I assured her. She nodded, but the look of disgust on her face remained intact.

“I understand that. They’re just hideous.” Margo turned her gaze to me, eyes softening. “I just don’t understand why people disregard your attempts at removing them from the park. They’re such an eye sore.”

“I told you before, Margo. They laugh. ‘They’re just pigeons!’ is what they say. But I looked them up, at the library. Pigeons look nothing like these…” I pause, gesturing to them, “Things…”

Margo’s hand covered mine. Warmth spread through me. “Don’t worry. People will realize their faults sooner or later. You just do what you have to.”

I can’t help but smile at her. She’s so good with me. Suddenly I felt as though electrified. My head snaps up and I see a couple passing. The man held the woman’s hand and her knuckles looked white. It looked so painful. I cringed at the look they give me simultaneously. So deep, yet cold, never blinking.

Margo placed her finger under my chin and gently tugged my attention from the people passing to her deep brown eyes. I then smiled again. “It’s fine.” She assured me as if it settled everything. It might have.

Then suddenly a crazy bright bouncing ball bounded into my peripheral vision. I jumped, startled. It was a slight relief to see the monsters scatter. A child with wide, piercing blue eyes followed the ball. It was hard to tear my eyes from those eyes, but I did and I looked at Margo, who now held the ball.

The child plucked the ball from Margo’s hands as if she weren’t there. I started at her, hoping she would say something so I had the courage to. The boy fallowed my gaze but looked as though he stared straight through Margo.

“What’re you looking at?” The child’s voice was impossibly deep.

“My friend, Margo.” I squeaked.

“There’s no one there, mister.” The child looked puzzled.

“Of course there is, you silly thing. I’m looking right at her.” I suddenly snapped defensively. I looked at Margo to say something but she only smiled. The child quirked a pale eyebrow.

“I think you’re crazy, mister.” The child stated bluntly in his deep voice, his eyes never blinking. Then it was gone. I glanced back and the child was walking away.

I looked back at Margo. The monsters were returning and I clutched the bag of crumbs tightly, the brown paper bag wrinkling terribly. She placed her hand over mine again, soothingly.

“You’re not crazy,” Margo reassured me. “Don’t worry about it.”