Wanderer

The screams of a rooster startle me awake. I can’t feel a thing… or rather I can feel everything. Every ache in every joint between every bone. I don’t think straw is anywhere near a good mattress stuffer. Stretching out the kinks in my body, a few of my bones sing their usual morning praises of cracks and pops. I rise from my nest of hay and dirt, dusting the filth from the fabric of my clothes. I can’t even remember feeling sleepy after my nightly chores. I don’t understand how I could’ve just fallen asleep in the horse’s breakfast. The rooster crows again.

All right, all right I’m awake! I yell up at him, my voice raspy and nose stuffy from the cool of the night.

By the time my body has softened itself, so every part of me isn’t stiff, I’ve pretty much retaught myself how to walk. I know the clocks ticking, but I can’t help staring into the beautiful sunrise. Inhaling the crisp morning air, I stretch one last time and start scooping fistfuls of hay into my arms. I whistle for the horses to come get some, but don’t hear the sound of excited hooves thumping against the ground. I whistle again. Still nothing. Anxiously, I drop the load of hay from my arms and make my way towards the barn doors, stopping right before I reach them.

Not only are the horses not in their stalls, but I don’t see the pigs in their pen or the goats skipping about the property either.

Hello? I call into the distance.

The sound of my voice bounces back to me from every direction, mocking my foolishness as if I expect and answer.

Hello?! I scream again, quite a bit more panicked this time.

The same mock calls back.

I slump to the wood floor of the barn. I’m afraid to leave it, it feels so secure right now like it’s the only thing I know to be true. The feeling of barbed wire is dancing in my throat as I suppress the need to cry. I realize my attempt is in vain as tears flow from my eyes, cooling my cheeks further.

Crying isn’t going to fix anything.

My head snaps upward.

"Who said that?"

Up here.

I crane my neck backwards, until I see two large eyes locked onto me. I throw myself backwards into the hay I woke up from earlier. The owner of the giant, golden spheres reveals itself from the shadows. I stare in confusion and awe. It’s blindingly white feathers, reflect the rising sun. The small flecks of gold give a mesmerizing pattern to the bird.

Unfortunately, this spectacular spectacle is short-lived.

You don’t remember, do you? It says to me.

I blink, not even sure what is happening.

"Remember what?" I quietly ask him, terrified of the answer.

Leave the barn. It tells me.

Its voice doesn’t change at all. Just a flat-toned, deep, man-like voice talking down at me. I turn my gaze to the open barn doors. The sun is still shining the same way it did when I awoke, as if no time had passed at all. I look back up at the owl, it stares back at me without blinking. I lower my head to look at the doors again.

Hesitantly, I remove myself from my pile of hay. My boots scrape against the rotting wooden boards that make up the barns floor below me. I gulp down the fear within me and walk towards the doors. I can feel the owls eyes on me, burning through my body like lasers. I walk until I get to the floors end, but… I can’t step outside. I feel something press against my chest as I try to move onto the grass just inches away from me. I struggle for a moment, desperately trying to free myself from whatever was keeping me here, but the pressure feels like it’s crushing me. I stumble backwards and look back at the owl. Its eyes gaze at me in curiosity.

Would you like to see what happened?

I blink back more tears and nod my head. The barrier between the barn doors starts to change.

Survivor's guilt, commonly associated with PTSD, is when a person feels guilty because they survived a life-threatening event that others did not survive. This situation can create immense inner turmoil.

(https://www.fortbehavioral.com/addiction-recovery-blog/six-strategies-for-handling-survivors-guilt/#:~:text=Survivor's%20guilt%2C%20commonly%20associated%20with,that%20others%20did%20not%20survive.&text=This%20situation%20can%20create%20immense,may%20also%20spark%20this%20phenomenon.)

Before I can ask what the hell it’s talking about, a mushroom cloud appears on the doors barrier before me. I stumble backwards in shock and scream as the shockwaves of the blast rush towards me. Nothing happens to the barn. I watch as my house ignites and the pieces of it fly towards me. The fences and chunks of dried grass and hay in the pasture do the same. My animals scream in fear and agony and race past the barn at the speed of light. I can see blurs of their flesh wounds as they go by.

When it finally ends, the reality of the view reveals itself before me. Nothing was actually there. Everything was but a shadow of what it had been. Everything... but the barn.

"How?" I asked "How did I survive this?"

My voice rang with anger and pain. I felt the owls eyes on me again.

You were here doing your chores when it happened. It said in its cool tone. The blast appeared out of nowhere. There wasn't even time for an alarm to sound before it struck the Earth.

"But why did I survive?!" I screamed at the bird.

My face contorted with rage as I stared at it and its composure didn't waiver. My knees buckled and I fall to the floor, curling my body into itself. Tears splash onto the wood below me and hiccups invade my lungs as I sob into myself.

I didn't mean to... It finally said to me.

I lift my face towards the owl again and wipe my eyes with the backs of my hands. Regaining control of my body, I take deeps breaths to silence my continuous sniffles and hiccups.

"What?" I ask, still snorting boogers back into my nose.

The owl almost looked sad now.

You weren't supposed to be in here. I-I didn't realize you were in here until it was too late.

He continued, as I stared in confusion.

I am but a wandering spirit and came upon your barn. Thinking I could blend in, considering my appearance, I took rest in the higher levels of the ceiling. When I heard the blast, I merely created a seal around this barn to keep myself safe while I slept. I was... unaware that someone else was in here. I could not remove the seal entirely, but I could shrink it around myself and leave... But that didn't seem fair to you. It was an unintentional act of kindness, but how could I retract it and leave you to suffer radiation poisoning? You'd be unaware of the events you witnessed and unable to seek help before falling ill and suffering until the radiation rotted you from the inside out. I couldn't leave you like that.

I couldn't believe it. This "spirit" had saved me, but didn't mean to save me and instead of just ditching his accident he stayed until I woke up and... now what? I rubbed the sweat from my palms onto my jeans.

"W-well, thank you? For saving me... even if it was unintentional."

He nodded at me. I looked around, awkwardly.

Trying not to stutter, I asked him "What do we do now?"

He seemed a little surprised at the question. It was as if he hadn't thought this far ahead.

I'm not sure.

He said, staring outside the barrier he created. His eyes shone, reflecting the ever-moving sun. The universe stopped for no man, nor woman.

We could wait until the radiation levels drop enough to safely get you out of here.

"That could take years! I need food and water!"

Yes, I suppose. I could release you from the seal if you wish...

"I don't... I don't really want to die... I mean, this happened for a reason, right?"

Perhaps. Well, I could shrink the seal to simply fit us both inside, so we could get you to a safe civilization that wasn't effected by the blast. It takes quite a bit of my energy to sustain the seal while moving, especially the larger it is...

"Now you're talkin'! What do we need to do to keep it up while we're moving?"

His claws shuffle around a small rock next to him.

The quickest option would be for you to carry me. Unfortunately, we wouldn't be able to stop and rest much, because the seal could weaken if we sleep and you would grow ill anyways. I could simply perch on your shoulder if that is alright with you.

"Let's do it."

As you wish.

The journey was long and exhausting, but we eventually found a civilization. We had seen grotesque creatures that had been mutilated by the blast and shadows forever burnt into collapsed buildings or walls that refused to be brought down. Even animals with broken bones, or organs spilling from their sides were somehow painfully roaming.

The owl and I said our goodbyes at the gate of the city and, thankfully, they were taking in refugees that had been affected by the nearby bombing. I watched him spread his practically glowing wings and take off over the walls of the town. From inside people screamed and cried with joy as the owl passed over them. A guard explained to me he was the spirit of a very merciful king who reigned many years ago. He had been betrayed by his own wife and struck down in front of his loyal citizens. He had lost everything and in his final moments he vowed to seek out all who had lost as much as he did that day.

I laughed as he flew over me again. Running below him I shouted.

"Wandering spirit?! You were a king!"

He laughed.

A wandering king, then!

He turned himself upwards, flying towards the ever-moving sun. I stopped running after him and panted as his golden pattern took in the suns rays and reflected them towards the city. If I lived in this place, I was sure I'd see him again some day... and that sounded pretty good to me.