Young Writers Society

     A/N: This is an alternative ending to the timeless classic The Birds, so if you haven't seen it, this just jumps right in from when Mitch, Cathy, Lydia, and Melanie are driving to the bridge in hopes of escaping the birds (final scene). 

     “Mitch, can I take the lovebirds? They haven’t harmed anyone.” Cathy’s eyes were begging, filled with unshed tears.

     “Alright, fine.” Mitch wound his arm around his younger sister’s shoulders and helped her carry the shiny, golden cage to the car. The grey, black, and white birds surrounded them. Their squawks pierced Mitch’s head, severing his mind permanently. He fought the urge to scream. He could feel Cathy quivering, tucked underneath his armpit. “It’s alright, Cathy. We’re going to the hospital; it will be safe there. Everything is going to be all right.” He could taste his lies, acrid and hot against his tongue.

     They waded through the mass of feathers and sharp beaks carefully, making their way to the car. Lydia and Melanie were inside, Melanie sprawled over Lydia’s shoulder. Cathy ducked into the car and huddled close to her mother, quaking with terror. Mitch began the slow, tedious drive over the curving road, his knuckles pale white against the cocoa leather of the steering wheel.

     The lovebirds cackled loudly, shattering the tension-filled silence. Melanie moaned softly, her eyes flickering open. When she caught sight of the green and red birds, she screamed, high and raw. Mitch yelled and swerved off the road, smacking into a group of unexpecting birds. They cawed loudly and scattered. Their black eyes flashed with loathing.

     “Get those birds out! Get them away!” Melanie wailed. She flailed about, hands smacking into Cathy and Lydia. The lovebirds shrieked in stress.

     “Darling! Darling, calm down! It’s alright!” Mitch couldn’t concentrate on driving. His mind was filled with a whirring sound, getting louder and louder with every second that passed. Just as he realized that the birds outside were attacking again, provoked by the sounds from the lovebirds, he felt something pointed and sharp nick into his ear.

     He whirled around, knowing it was the birds, the dreaded, horrible, flesh-gorging birds. He lunged forward blindly, anger curling like an iron fist in his gut. His hands fumbled for the black feathers that he knew so well, the coarse plumage that he had grown accustomed to over the past few days. He would kill those birds. He would kill every last one of them. He was sick of the demons, sick of the world of blood and violence that they had relentlessly created. He was sick of it and he would not stand for it any longer.

     His hands fastened around something round and soft, a bird’s neck, and he squeezed. He was too repulsed to look at it. He could hear Cathy and Lydia’s screams, their intermingled sobs. “It’s going to be all right,” he promised them. “They can’t hurt us when I’m here.” He pressed his fingers hard against the neck, eyes hardened with disgust and hatred.

     “Mitch, STOP! Please, please, stop…..” Cathy trailed off, sobbing, slumping into the cool leather of the car.

     “Cathy, shh. It’s going to be all right.” He felt the bird go limp beneath him, and satisfaction overwhelmed him. He pried his hands away from the hot skin.

     Skin?

     He finally looked at his victim, slain out beside Cathy and Lydia.

     It was Melanie. He had killed Melanie.

     Mitch felt sick, sick to his stomach. The world began to spin and tilt and he could hear somebody talking, and feel hot breath behind his ear, but it was like he was floating. Floating above everyone and watching them from above. Watching Cathy sob uncontrollably, watching Lydia scream and scream and scream, shoving Melanie’s body off of her. Watching Melanie on the car seat, her face absent of color, her eyes stained with scarlet threads.

     “Mitch! Mitch!” Cathy howled. Mitch blinked and stared at his sister, pointing to the lovebirds. They were flapping their wings anxiously, escaped from the cage. Melanie’s head had smacked into the top of the cage, jolting open the latch and releasing them. They flew near the window, pecking insistently, attempting escape.

     The birds outside battered every part of the car, and suddenly the glass shattered and everything got louder, closer, hotter. Feathers flapped everywhere, beaks poking and prodding. Cathy was still pointing and crying as the lovebirds delved into the mist of black feathers, two blotches of fading color amongst an ever-stretching darkness. As if a zombie, Mitch stood up and pursuited the lovebirds, knowing Cathy wanted them, loved them.

     The birds converged on him and he closed his eyes.