Don't Fall

“Don’t!”

Someone screamed. She looked behind her. Who said that? She was the only one on the roof. She could have sworn she checked every foot of this area and blocked the door behind her. For a moment, she dared to call out to whoever had spoken to her; but decided to ignore it for her own good. She turned her head back to the scene below her. Toes curled over the edge, she took a deep breath and imagined what the sensation would feel like.

Will it be over quickly? She asked herself.

Is it going to hurt? She questioned.

Am I… going to regret it when it’s already too late? That one stopped her.

She stepped away from the edge, panting from the adrenaline coursing through every inch of her body. She groaned at herself, asking why she had to think of that question. Gulping in more air, she clenched her fists and made her way back over to the edge. She was breathing harder than the first time. She wasn’t as calm and level-headed about this now. Screaming in frustration, she threw herself backwards from the edge again and punched the roofing beneath her.

With her knuckles and knees badly scraped, she laid down for a moment. A single tear escaped her cheek, leaving the slightest trace of moisture on the small pebbles her body rested on. All she could to was breath… and think. She thought back to the things that had brought her up here in the first place. She laid there, remembering everything, reliving every tiny detail she could recall. Every moment that had hurt her now led up to this. I have a reason.

Without taking another moment to think about it, she launched herself from where she laid, ran to the edge, and jumped as high as she could from it. Mid-leap she hears a scream.

“No!” and BOOM something crashes into her body, forcing her back over the edge onto the roof.

With the breath knocked from her lungs, she is splayed out like a starfish on the sand while whoever tackled her fumbles to upright themselves next to her.

Then, a pair of huge eyes makes their way from her peripheral vision to her direct line of sight. They don’t blink. Still struggling to breathe, her own eyes grow wide at the sight before her, and she agonizingly rolls herself away from the creature and onto her side. She had barely managed to gasp in small gulps of air when it spoke to her.

“Why were you doing that?” The voice of the creature seemed airy and serene. It was almost familiar.

She froze.

Did that thing just talk to me?

Its feet scraped the graveled roofing as it made its way towards her. Feeling it getting closer, she rolled onto her stomach and finally looked at the creature before her. She blinked. It was still there.

“That might not have killed you you know…” it said gently to her.

“What the hell are you?” she asked, menacingly.

It looked at its feet and back at her.

“You don’t recognize your own mother?”

She sat up, rolling from her stomach to her backside. That voice… no wonder it was so calming.

“Hello, my little chick,” she said with as much as a smile a beak could create. “I always told you a barn owl was my spirit animal…”

She couldn’t believe her eyes. She was glorious. After finding out she had cancer, her mother had bleached her hair practically a transparent white with gorgeous golden tips as a one last hoorah, before the chemo treatments would take it from her. This owl had blindingly white feathers with shining golden flecks sprinkled into its pelt. Her beak shone gold, as well as her eyes, and the tips of her claws.

Finally, after aweing at her mother’s beauty, she stood up and ran to her. She hugged her tightly as all their memories together flooded back to her. Barn owls had always been her favorite animal. At one point, a small family of them had made a nest in the very shed her mother had built. Her mother always whispered to her that her soul called them to their home and how excited she was to give them sanctuary. That one was her favorite memory of theirs.

"You're beautiful!" She tells her mother.

She pauses when her mother looks at her.

"You always have been you know," she says quietly, looking into those glimmering golden globes of hers.

Her mothers eyes well up with tears.

"So have you, darling. Don't ever forget that."

"I love you mom."

"I love you too, my little chick."

The roof is cold beneath her. Her body ached, like she'd been hit by a truck. Opening her eyes, she looked around the roof, searching for the owl.

"Mom?" She called.

There was no answer. She rubbed tears from her eyes and her bottom lip quivered as she realized it was a dream. She must have fallen asleep when she laid down. She took a breath and sighed, staring at the ledge she was going to leap from just moments ago. How many moments, she wasn't sure, but as she looked behind her the sky was painted with purples and pinks; hinting that night began to fall.

She slowly lifted herself, dusting off the small pebbles that stuck to her skin. As she walked towards the ledge, she noticed something white lying in the exact spot her feet had been before. A feather. A white feather with golden flecks sprinkled in. Gently lifting it with her thumb and forefinger, she looked at the view below her. She stared as people closed up their shops for the night and children ran up and down the sidewalks as their mothers and fathers watched through the windows; cooking dinner for their little angels.

Catching herself smiling while the children played, she longed for that feeling of joy again. She looked at the feather, noticing she had been holding it a bit too hard and its strings of fluff stuck together from the moisture of her hand. She turned towards the setting sun and held it above her head, gently releasing it. It swooped downwards and her heart skipped a beat, thinking it would just fall to the dirt below. Before she could reach down to grab it, the wind snatched it from its downfall and the feather soared into the distance, following the sun.

Smiling, a single tear snuck down her cheek and she unblocked the door on the roof. She had left her shoes as the ledge with a note, which she looped into the laces. She made her way back down the long flights of stairs below her, and looked to the sky. All she could do was hope that someone read her note, because "Even though you may not see it, somebody here loves you."