This is the very beginning of my story. I wanted to get to a fast beginning to catch peoples attention. I only wrote about half of the whole story.

A clear sky, without a single cloud or plane in sight; looking out my bedroom window was something I seldom had reason to do. That all changed one lazy Tuesday  afternoon. The sun was setting and an orange haze crowded the horizon. A lone and majestic bird appeared in the distance and slowly grew in size as it approached our town. I thought nothing of it – even forgetting about the birds presence as I returned attention to my homework. When the number of birds continued to grow and multiply, I couldn’t help but let my intrigue get the best of me. I watched as hoards spilled out from behind the mountains. From the safety of my bedroom I observed as the sun slowly became blocked out and the flock steadily approached. A sharp scream pierced the silence that my quiet neighborhood was so accustomed to. It was coming from outside so I instinctually rushed to my window. I forcibly pried it open and stuck out as much of my body as gravity would allow me. Craning my neck, I peered all the way down the straight road that was my neighborhood. Locating the source of the terrible commotion nearby was of no difficulty. About one hundred feet away – smack in the middle of my street – hovered a rabid flock of about a dozen birds. Cawing, plucking, and leaving a whirlwind of feathers in their path made it impossible for my eyes to define any discernable shapes. Like the sighting of a ghost out of the corner of your eye, the hoard dispersed as if it were never even their. An eerie silence now filled the void left by the horrible screaming. In the place of the floock remained a stiff, motionless, and mangled body. My eyes stuck to it as if they had been super glued together. The only thing that could snap me out of the trans was the sound of another scream – this time in my own home.