Everything Was Fine—Until He Picked Up That One Chicken

A Strange Moment with Marbles
My cousin Eli was playing with our chicken, Marbles, when suddenly all the other chickens froze, staring at them like something was wrong. The boss rooster backed away slowly toward the shed, and the others followed silently. Eli said, “She’s not letting go,” referring to Marbles clutched tightly in his arms. I noticed scratches on Eli’s arm forming letters: “DON.” Eli whispered, “I don’t know, but I think… she does.” Marbles’ eyes seemed to look through us, and her feathers bristled like static. The shed door creaked open behind us, adding to the eerie feeling.

Messages and Fear
The scratches deepened, spelling “DON’T.” Eli said quietly, “I think she’s scared… of them.” We went inside, locking the door. Eli told me, “She’s talking to me… Not with words. But with pictures. Like dreams… but I’m awake.” He described a man buried in the shed. I remembered the previous owner, Don Whitmer, went missing years ago. I found out no body was ever found, though Don supposedly left a note saying he was leaving.

Discovery Under the Shed
Eli insisted Marbles wouldn’t let go, so we went outside together to check. Eli showed me a disturbed patch behind the shed. Digging there, we found a rusty box with bones and Don Whitmer’s ID. I said, “We have to call the police.” Eli added, “She said thank you.” Marbles calmed and quietly walked away. The police later confirmed the bones belonged to Don, revealing foul play.

Aftermath and Reflection
Nana, who gave us the chickens, later admitted, “I didn’t know it was him. But I knew those birds were watching something. Protecting something.” The chickens returned to normal. Eli said, “She didn’t want justice. She wanted to be heard.” Now, I see Marbles watching quietly, like she’s making sure things are right. Maybe “even in a chicken coop—truth finds a way out,” scratching through years of silence to set something free.