“The Raven” by Edgar Allen Poe

There was this one time, in the middle of the night, where I was skimming through some old books. I could hardly keep my eyes open, I was like dead tired.

Just when I was about to conk the fuck out, I heard some sort of tapping sound, it sounded kinda like someone knocking on my door.

For some reason I muttered aloud to myself, “it’s just somebody at my door.”

    B-t-dubs, this happened in December and it was kinda shitty outside. So I had a few candles lit, for ambiance and stuff, but they were burning low.

   And I really wasn’t having a good night. I really just wanted it to hurry up and be tomorrow. Because I was sad about my girlfriend, Lenore, being dead.

    Then I saw my purple curtains kinda move a little bit and it spooked the shit out of me.

    To calm myself down I stood up and said:

    “’somebody’s here for a visit, even though it’s late.”

    That made me feel super brave.

And I called out: “hey bro, sorry I didn’t answer you sooner I was totally asleep.”

I emphasized that this was a “fact” even though it was actually a bold faced lie.

   Then I said “besides, you knocked so gently I could barely hear you. So it’s not really my fault, guy.”

All the while I was talking at them through a shut door, so I opened it.

But there wasn’t anybody there.

I stood there for a long time just staring into space.

   Then I whispered “Lenore?”

And I guess it wasn’t that much of a whisper, because it actually made an echo.

That’s all.

   So I went back inside, kinda irritated by the whole ordeal.

Then I heard another tapping sound, even louder than the first.

    Still talking to myself because I often do that, I said, “that’s obviously something at my window…. The wind I bet. Let me go and check it out, you know, just to be sure.”

    So I flung the shutter open and I shit you not a real live raven flew right into my room!

    He wasn’t very polite, because he was a bird.

    He actually gave the impression that he kinda thought he was hot shit, the way he landed on the little statue head that I have above my bedroom door frame.

Ravens are black, in case you didn’t know, and something about the way he carried himself made me smile.

So I figured I’d make fun of him, for being a stupid bird.

I said:

“You obviously think very highly of yourself!”

I thought I’d get in a really good jab by asking as sarcastically as possible: “I bet you’ve even got some fancy-ass pretentious name or something, so what am I supposed to call you?             

The raven replied: “nevermore”.

Turns out, ravens can actually mimic tons of sounds, even human words— just like parrots! Pretty fucking sick.

That’s why I’m writing about it, because I’d venture to guess most people have never had a big-ass raven soar into their bedroom, and then perch on the sculpture above their door!

(Most people don’t even have sculptures on their doors! Am I bragging? Yes. But so what? Aren’t I entitled to feel good about having nice things?)

Any way, I digress, it’s also gotta be insanely rare to hear a raven speak.

   I wish he said more than one stupid word, but whatever.

It’s not like he was gonna stay and have a deep conversation.

Feeling kinda bitter about how I don’t really have any friends, I figured I’d try to guilt trip this bird for his inevitable future offense of leaving me, so I decided to talk about him as though he weren’t even there.

I said: “Eventually he’ll fly away and abandon me, or die or something, like Lenore did.”

   Then the bird said “Nevermore.”

    That startled me, even though I’d already been talking to him and looking right at him. Guess I was just jumpy that night.

Being a petty-and-proud kinda guy, I figured I’d just talk more shit about him.

I said “I doubt this stupid bird even knows any other words. And I bet his owner— whoever trained him to say ‘nevermore’— was a pitiful sad sack with an absolutely miserable life.”

    Wanting to gloat after such a deadly roast, I wheeled an office chair in front of the bird to watch his reaction.

It sounds foolish in retrospect, but I started to wonder— what if he actually meant something when he said nevermore?

   So I sat there for a long time just kinda overthinking the whole thing. Wondering all this deep philosophical shit, like: what even is language, and do birds know they exist, and if I was in a cage match with unlimited ravens, how many could I kill before they finally overpowered me??

All the while the bird just sat there staring at me.

    Eventually I lay my head on the chair’s cushion and then I couldn’t help thinking about how Lenore would never put her head there ever again.

Did I mention I had a lamp lit? I want you to know that. It’s important that I’m clear. The lamp light was kinda glimmering on my fancy-ass velvet cushion.

    Then my vision got kinda blurry, almost like the air was thick with some angelic smoke.

I guess what I’m saying is I had tears in my eyes.

In any event I’m not too proud to admit I kinda took it out on the bird.

Maybe I was embarrassed? Maybe I’m just the kind of guy who uses anger to cope with grief.

But no excuses! I’ll just tell you how it went down.

First I screamed at him and called him a “wretch”. I admit that was a weird go to for an insult, but in the moment I thought it sounded absolutely savage.

I told him “your god has given you a potion to help you forget Lenore!”

I know that was another weird thing to yell.

I mean, probably God didn’t give him a forgetfulness potion, lol. That’s ridiculous.

But I will say, the imagery felt true to me. after all, the raven didn’t seem to be losing his shit over my girlfriend’s death like I was. In fact he seemed indifferent and sure, I guess that was because he was a stupid bird. But isn’t ignorance bliss? Wouldn’t being a dumb animal be like the best, most heavenly gift imaginable?

To be honest, I don’t even know if a raven could remember a human being to begin with.

I mean, maybe they could… I read on the internet that ravens and crows have incredible long term memory, and that they’re smart enough to make and use simple tools.

So I’m choosing to give the raven some credit. If he ever saw Lenore then he probably remembered her or something.

But he didn’t have to grieve over her. Lucky little shit.

God, if he’s even real, didn’t give me any such blessing. Only absinthe, which is a fucking miracle in and of itself.

That’s how it all seems to me anyway.

I kinda doubled down on that idea, I shouted to the bird “let’s chug some liquor and drown our sorrows over Lenore’s death!”

The raven said “nevermore.”

Was he saying it’s impossible to forget her? Or that it would be wrong to even try? Maybe he was dissing me for enjoying the occasional adult beverage?

Either way it felt like he was telling me what to do and kinda pissing on my parade.

I pretty much lost it.

I called him a prophet. I meant it as an insult since he was acting like a know-it-all.

I also called him an evil devil.

Then I said, “whether satan sent you or you flew here on your own out of some storm or something, tell me the fucking truth: is there such a thing as like an afterlife, or like eternal peace in heaven or whatever?”

Yes. I was asking a bird if heaven existed. Don’t come at me. I was tired and grieving and a little drunk.

            Anyway, I bet you can guess what the raven said next: the Raven said, “Nevermore.”

Which I took to mean “no”.

Of course I was utterly heart broken, because legit, I’d always wanted there to be heaven. Especially after losing Lenore, ya know?

I mean, she was pretty hot so I’d kinda like to see her again.

And here this damned bird was telling me no dice!

I called him an evil prophet, and a devil-bird again, just for emphasis.

Since I didn’t like his answer the first time I figured I’d rephrase the question and ask again. I wanted to know if there was a chance of seeing Lenore and healing my soul. So I figured I’d be direct. I said: “listen here, you little shit! For the love of God just tell me, tell me if I’ll go to the afterlife and see Lenore there!”

Jesus I’m embarrassed to even admit all of this.

   The raven said “nevermore.”

Again. Duh-fucking-hoy

By now I had had e-nough!

    I kind of exploded. I positively shrieked at him. The neighbors in the upstairs apartment we’re probably wondering why the hell I was awake and why the hell I was screaming.

But whatevs.

I yelled “That’s it you demonic little fuck! get the hell out of my bedroom! Fuck right off!!! And don’t leave any feathers when you go! I don’t ever need to be reminded that you even exist, you absolute tool! I’d rather be alone than spend one more minute with a lying piece of shit like you!

The raven said: “Nevermore.”

    And then the bastard literally never left.

I guess he loves that statue head, because he’s still just chilling there.

I kinda feel like he’ll never leave and I’ll never get over Lenore.

Tldr: a bird flew through my window, I kinda freaked out a bit. He hasn’t left and I need help getting him back out of my apartment. RIP Lenore, 2022