There was a stick figure lying on the ground, or at least what was left of him. He seemed to be missing his legs, one of his hands and a chunk of his face. His mouth was a dark black scream of an O. All around were birds, swooping down at him with blood on their beaks and talons. I saw that one of them had an entire leg in its mouth, and another had a hand. They seemed to be eating him alive. I stared down at the drawing, wondering why Charlie would imagine something so grisly. I flipped the paper over to see if there was anything on the other side and, to my surprise, found lines of writing.

Dear Mama,

I hope you get this letter. It might be difficult to send because Papa says the birds have gone mad. He says they’re ravenous, as if they haven’t eaten in years and years, and that’s making them do dreadful things. I know what it’s like to be hungry, so I understand. Papa says the birds tried to eat the other lighthouse keeper. All of him – hair, skin, clothes and bones. If Papa hadn’t been there, then there would have been nothing left of the other man. He was still 135hurt very badly, though. Papa says they’ve radioed for help, but the sea is too rough for anyone to come.

So we have to be careful and silent because the birds come into the lighthouse sometimes, and if you make any noise at all then they’ll realize you’re there and they’ll find a way to get to you. They can only rip small pieces from you at a time so it would take ages to be eaten. Hours, probably, maybe days. But you can’t fight them off because there are too many of them. Thousands and thousands on the island, Papa says. That’s even more than a hundred.

Papa says it’s fearsomely unnatural, and that God must be angry for some reason. I hope he stops being angry soon. I hope it isn’t my fault. I’m sorry for all the bad things I’ve done. If I promise to be good from now on, perhaps I can come home?

Your loving son,

C