The Ruins

After a sonic boom of thunder rumbled throughout the sky, I bolted. I hear the crunching of the frozen ground and snapping of random twigs as I stomp through the uneven forest grounds. I feel the shrubbery prickle and tear into my face, and hands as I claw my way through the foliage.

But where exactly? Where am I?

After a crippling branch snagged onto my heavy coat, I finally stop to take a breath. It's foggy, the humidity in the air is so palpable I feel it mixing with my shallow breath.

Why did I decide to venture into the forest? Alone, and in this weather, for heaven's sake.

Why am I like this?

So irrationally willful?

Undeniably, this is my life as it stands. A chaotic mess of questionable decisions, sprinkled with a dash of hot temper. A rustle in the distance halts my self-musings. Startled, I glance around and start taking in my surroundings trying to identify my location, but with all the haze from the rain it seems impossible.

It gets darker as thunder and lightning continuously crackle throughout the heavens.

Desperately, I crouch under a maniacally crooked tree, seeking refuge.

“Heavens above, help me find refuge from this dreadful storm.”

I murmur as I hold my head between the palms of my hands. A shrill scream tore through my throat as another flash of lightning struck. The electric charge is so tangible I can feel the hairs on my nape standing on edge. It's getting closer. I’m chilled to the bone, and terrified.

‘I need to find shelter.’ I think to myself.

Another flash of lightning illuminates the sky, and then I see it. I catch a glimpse of a shadow of a building. I make a mad dash to the nearest alcove, desperate for cover. Glancing around, trying to catch more glimpses of the dilapidating structure.

Subsequently, I realized I’m standing in the ruins of a once beautiful Victorian era castle. I pinch myself, as I murmur, “Please wake up,” under my breath. “It's real,” I whisper in a breathy tone. “I cannot believe it,” I mumble through trembling, frozen lips.

Suddenly as quick as a bolt of lightning, I remember.

When I was a little girl, I recall hearing tales, or legends, if you will. They spoke of a wealthy lord with his beautiful wife. They lived in a beautiful castle, surrounded by glorious gardens manicured to perfection. The lord was completely entranced by his lovely wife, their love was a thing of fairy tales.

After their first child was born, the lord promised his wife anything her heart desired, in exchange for giving him his male heir. She had but to ask, and it would be hers. The only wish his lady love ever voiced was a desperate desire of a nocturnal bird not native to their land. What she desired the most was to possess a Tytonidae owl. More commonly known as a night owl. She completely adored their cream-colored heart shaped faces, and their dark eyes. They were two black pools, as dark as the moonless night.

Unfortunately, the night owls were seen as a bad omen, they represented death and destruction and brought desolation and misfortune to all who witnessed them. She believed the accounts to be false, undoubtedly those creatures were continuously misunderstood.

The lord hesitated; he knew to hunt and capture these creatures would bring forth nothing but the greatest misfortune. Alas, his devotion was so great that he said farewell to his family and set off on his quest. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and yet her husband failed to return.

During that period of anguish, a dark owl appeared and made its home in the surrounding forest of the castle. Without warning, a strange plague spread throughout the land. A plague that took the natural life of many of the castle’s residents, including their only child.

The wife, riddled with guilt for what she had brought upon her once happy family, in a fit of despair jumped to her death from the highest tower. Upon the death of the mistress and the heir, the castle was abandoned, never to be inhabited again. The villagers, to this day, say they hear a night owl screeching sorrowfully into the night. The creature they had dubbed the death owl.

A murderous clap of thunder transports me back to the present. My head snapped up to the skies and I gulp; It’s gotten even darker. The winds’ ever chilling howls are deafening as the clouds open once again and rain begins to fall in a frightening downpour.

Desperately searching for my cell, I manage to stumble my way inside. My phone light is faint, nevertheless it illuminates the passageway rather clearly. The howling of the wind is muffled once inside. I hear my footsteps echo through the empty halls, while I observe how evidently the castle is eroding away. Becoming one with nature once again. With years of neglect, this architectural beauty has become nothing but a rotting carcass; filled with specters of the past.

Once I arrive at the entrance hall, I’m startled by the enchanting twin staircases leading up to the second floor. In my amazement, I failed to notice a rather ruffled creature perched on the ancient chandelier. I pause, frozen in terror, as a terrifying screech pierces the surrounding air.

Abruptly, as a vibrant flash of lightning illuminates the room, I see it. The night owl. I stand there transfixed by this exotic creature, and suddenly I come to realize that every legend has a tiny sliver of truth. However, how much of the truth is obscenely exaggerated?

Hypnotized as I am with this foreign soul, I know deep in my being this is where I was meant to stand.