Osprey Criminal

The call of the early morning birds woke me from my pleasant slumber. Every morning, I have been awakened by the high-pitched songs from robins, jays, and the occasional sea gull. Seldom have they missed a morning, and I thank God for their songs of a new day of life. But today was different. A cry of the hunter sounded, that silenced all songs. I saw the deep dive, the splash, and the rise of the bird of prey. I could sense the urgency of the sing-song birds. Rarely did this happen during the early morning concert. The victorious cry of the osprey rang in my ears, and brought a primal fear to mind. The adrenaline rushed through me as I saw the shadow of the raptor against the rising sun. The act of killer instinct is not a crime within nature. Yet, this scene seemed more killer than instinct. I named the bird Osprey Criminal, my new wild pet. Little did I know that me and her would have a lot more in common. She came by everyday after that morning. It was almost like she liked the feeling and thrill of killing. Every morning, she came with her intent to kill. Her war cry came every morning, as though she liked filling me with the terror of a murder soon to happen. She was also very choosy with her victim. Some days she would wait for hours at a time, just looking for her prey. I feared every passing moment, yet I watched and waited. I was anxious every day, just to see how well she hunted. I was intrigued by her style and expertise. I soon started thinking like a killer, like a hunter. Everyone I saw was just a target. I started looking for the worst, the easiest, the quickest ways to kill someone. I finally decided on a life of crime.