Owlsong Chapter 1

Chapter 1 of the book Owlsong

Rider

 

I don’t know where I am. The first time I think it, I’m calm �" but somewhat concerned. Then the panic sets in as I repeat the sentence in my own head. I don’t know where I am. Instantly, I’m sweating, though the last time I checked, it was December. I could be wrong.

     My heart is racing, and I’m gasping for air. I swear I feel a set of cold, dead hands wrapped around my neck; their owner sitting on my chest. I can’t see anything at all. I’m punching and kicking at nothing but air. Honestly, I can’t even tell if I’m really moving my limbs. Wherever I am, it’s dark. I keep trying to scream, but I can’t hear myself. All at once I fell myself start to stop fighting. I’m giving up. I keep telling myself not to , but I am Just as I stop fighting all together, my eyes adjust and I realize i am in my own bed �" safe and sound. Great, a panic attack to start my day.

     I haven’t left my bed in weeks, it seems, and m to angry to consider it, today. Eventually, I’ll have to. Though, honestly, I wouldn’t mind dying here. I’m comfortable here. Well, as comfortable as I can be in this world without you. I have to pinch myself for thinking that last thought… I’m not without you.  You’re still here. The pinch stings and I know it will bruise. Sadly, I welcome the pain. Other than anger, it’s the only thing I feel anymore. And anyway, my arms and legs are full of little bruises from moments just like this one.

     Lafayette Memorial Hospital, Room 316… That’s where you are. That’s where you have been for 3 weeks, five days, and 13 hours. I visited you for the first 14 days. I hope you know that. I never left your side. And, I’d be there now; if your father hadn’t decided that I didn’t need to be there. If I didn’t hate him so much right now, I would chalk it up to him not knowing that I did need to be there.

     He doesn’t visit you. You’ve been alone for 12 days and 13 hours. And so have I. Well, every once in a while my mom comes in to make sure I haven’t slit my wrists or anything. I’m sure one day; I’ll have to remember to thank her. That is, if I ever make it through this.

     While I lay here, I think of the last time I saw you, before I saw you in that hospital bed. You’re ripped jeans, and faded Mario brothers t-shirt. Blonde hair blowing in the crisp wind that November always brings. Your green eyes flickering with the fire that I knew you had inside of you. Your freckles on your cheeks and lips daring me to kiss you… though I never had, and I never would. We’ve been best friends for 13 years. I couldn’t stand to lose my best friend just by confessing my love for you. I would certainly never do it uninvited.

     We were sitting in the meadow that connects my backyard to yours. Just talking like nothing bad was ever going to happen… and maybe it wouldn’t have, if I hadn’t been late. I think that over and over again. Maybe you would still be here if I hadn’t been late. That deserves another pinch. You are still here. I don’t know why I can’t convince myself.

     “We will leave tomorrow, then. It’s settled.” You said

     “Don’t flake out on me, Jayne.” The last words I spoke as you waved goodbye and hurried home.

     Only one more night in your personal hell and I would be the one to rescue you. I would save you from the terror you were consumed by. I would rescue you. And I have to admit, I hoped in my heart that that was all I had to do to make you see me in the same light as I see you. All I had to do was show up, and I was late. I wish I would have known that goodbye would be our last.

     “Damnit.” Pinch.

     I wonder what characteristics a person has to have for them to be considered insane. I feel insane now, in my bed replaying those last sentences we said to each other. I feel insane blaming circumstance for you being gone.

     Pinch. You’re still here.

     I feel insane when my mom comes in and asks me if I am hungry. And I tell her no for the 12^th day in a row. I feel insane when I realize I don’t tell her no. I don’t say anything. I let her make her own conclusions. I feel insane when I can’t sleep. I feel insane when I wake up.  I really feel insane when I realize I haven’t showered in a week and a half. I almost convince myself to get out of bed when those cold, dead hands slide back around my throat, and I realize I can’t. Its not that I don’t want to get out of bed, I can’t. And that makes me feel more insane than anything else.

 

 

Jayne

 

Everything is white. The air is even a dense white sort of fog. There is no smell, there is no sound. No matter how far I reach, there is nothing to feel. Even if I look down, I cannot see my hands and I wonder if they are even there. It’s not cold here, neither is it hot. Well, maybe it is… and I can’t feel it. I wonder how long I have been here. It feels like I just arrived, and I have been here for years in the exact same second. Wherever I am, it is very strange, but I am not afraid here. It is very rare for me to be in a place that I feel safe.

     I feel safe with Rider. He’s been my best friend for almost my entire life. I can’t help but think of him constantly in this place. It’s almost like the world is white here so I can paint my own pictures. So I can make myself feel safe. I don’t even have to close my eyes to see the paintings my memories create. I can see him and me sitting in the meadow for hours, laughing and joking with each other. I can see myself poking him in the side and giggling when the wind made his dark hair stand up straight.

     “Attennnnnntion!”  Id yell, mimicking a soldier. Then, I’d run while he chased me until we would both fall down and laugh.

     That was before our conversations ever got too serious. Rider trusted me the second he met me. It took me a long time to tell him about you. And that is your fault. You made me so cautious, so slow to let people in. I lost a lot of time with Rider, because you prevented me from being able to have someone that close to me .You robbed me of the first wonderful years of a lifelong friendship. It’s not the only thing you stole from me.

     Suddenly, my paintings go dark. They turn to ugly greys and horrid blacks. They blur together like mud in a downpour. The only thing I see now is red.  And this, too, is your fault. I open my eyes, thankful once again to see nothing but white. If I didn’t miss rider, I’d make sure it stayed that way.

     I can’t understand where I am. I try to remember the last place I was, and I can’t. Now I’m here, in the endless white. Part of me thinks I should yell for help. The other likes being alone and can’t help but be concerned about what would answer my call.

 

 

 

Rider

 

“Attennnntion!”

     I hear it loud as day, and I sit straight up in bed.

     “Jayne!?” I screamed.

     My heart jumped out of my chest. It was beating so loudly I could hear it. I was sweating cold sweat. I knew it was you. I would recognize your voice anywhere. You were here… in my room… mocking my hair. I didn’t even care; I just wanted to see you; to hug you. I was up and out of bed ripping my curtains aside when my mom burst through the door.

     “Rider! What is happening? Is everything alright?” she said, looking as confused as I felt.

     “Did you hear it, mom? Did you hear her? She said ‘attennnntion’ loud as day, I heard her. Is she here? Mom! Are you listening?!?! Jayne is here. I heard her… Did you hear it??” I was screaming right into her face and she just stood there looking terrified. She must have heard it.

     “You heard it, didn’t you?” I said, a little more calmly.

     “I did hear it, Rider. Sit down.”

     “No, mom, I have to see her.  Let me go see her. I can’t believe she is here. How is this even possible?” I screeched.

     I could barely catch my breath. There was no way I could sit down. My Jayne was in my house after 12 days and 23 hours. You were here! My mother stood in front of the doorway, I could tell, grasping for words. I could see tears in her eyes, and I knew before she could even tell me.

     “No, honey. I heard you say it”

     She stood there and stared in horror at me while I collapsed to the ground. My eyes were hot and filled with tears. The sobs were loud and embarrassing. My heart slammed back into my chest with the unseen force of a speeding bus. My stomach churned while thoughts of you being gone forever flooded my brain. I couldn’t even muster up enough energy for the pinch this time.

I was sitting in Mrs. Ledman’s first grade class one mid-September morning. We were learning the sound of the letter B. I remember because I was feeling like an idiot having to blubber the B sound in unison.

“B says buh… like bunny or bumblebee. Say it with me class. Buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh.” Mrs. Ledman projected from the front of the class.

Immediately, the whole class started in.

“Buh, buh, buh, buh, buh.”

Except for you. You were sitting there, looking around at everyone, and giggling. You thought this stuff was just as stupid as I did. I immediately stopped participating and watched you smiling and laughing. Even when Mrs. Ledman said:

“Jayne, is there something you would like to share with the class?”

I watched you struggle to stop giggling, and that made me start to giggle. Only my giggle was a chuckle. Then your giggle was a full blown, gut-busting laugh, complete with a snort. While the two of us laughed, and the rest of the class stared silently, I caught a glimpse of your sharp green eyes for the first time. And when Mrs. Ledman sent us both to the principal’s office, I didn’t even care. I knew right then, that I would follow your green eyes anywhere they went.

Halfway down the hall, when you started to panic and tears started forming in your eyes, I knew I could never stand to see you cry. I didn’t understand your fear then, but I hated seeing it in your eyes. So, when Mr. Bane asked why we were disturbing the classroom, I quickly answered:

“Jayne was laughing because I was making silly faces at her while Mrs. Ledman was talking.”

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Does this grab your attention? Any feedback will be helpful

Reviews

[Christyn Jeffries]

It does grab my attention and is interesting, but I have a hard time reading without any setting. I feel that the whole thing is very abstract, all thoughts and emotions. There is little physical action happening. While that is fine for this much of the book (and your character descriptions and plot, so far, are very good) I would like to be grounded in your story with a setting. I also suggest that you describe using other senses, like smell and touch. That way, it feels more concrete and less like being in a dream (unless that was your intention). That said, this is one of the better pieces of writing I have read on this site so far.

[Hadrienbarr]

Im about to post another chapter. thank you, this is helpful

[Christyn Jeffries]

No problem. :)

[Hadrienbarr]

chapter 2 posted. any feedback would be amazing. its my new years resolution to finish this book.read morechapter 2 posted. any feedback would be amazing. its my new years resolution to finish this book.

[J.E. Reed]

Lovely first chapter. I really think this has good potential. Im a sucker for sad stories and already my heart breaks for the main character. Looking forward to the following. Check out my writing if you're interested :)

[Schatzi]

Hi Hadrienbarr!

You have a very unique voice and that is interesting. I would agree with what Christyn Jeffries advised you. One other thing, a bit more description would be good to help immerse the reader into your world, such as when you describe the cold dead hands. I can't speak for others but that only makes me wonder, 'What do dead hands feel like, other than being cold?" Hope this helps! Best of luck to you!

Kind regards,

Schatzi

[Erin]

I really liked it, there were some excellent turns of phrase. The one thing I did notice was that at times, your sentences are all of a similar length, and that can make it quite "stuttery" for the reader. Maybe try varying that at times? I thought Jayne's viewpoint was excellent, though.