3:33 AM

‘Damn it!’ There it is again! Everytime I close my eyes there is that ghostly owl, seemingly piercing into my soul with its gaze. Every night for the past week I have had the same dream, I close my eyes and there it is. Just starring at me, it almost feels like it’s waiting for me. I can’t scream, I can’t move, I just look at it, looking at me. I miss sleep, I miss rest, all there is now is him. I’m assuming he’s a male because he just sits and stares at me and says nothing, females have way too much to say to waste such time. I wish I could ask my mother what he is, why he’s here, but she would just cry voodoo and I would succumb to another mambo bathing me in Florida Water and oils. It took me weeks to get the smell out of my locs last time.

3:33 AM, I have to be up for school in less than 3 hours, yet I lay here, eyes wide open, still seeing him. Wondering why such a wise creature would come to me in my dreams, I’m only 15, what could I possibly have to offer him? I guess the better question is, what could he possibly have to offer me? Wait! It’s 3:33, maybe this is a sign from the ancestors! I can’t believe I’m just laying here. It’s time to make an offering at the ancestor altar. I can’t believe I sat here for a week with no intention of asking the ancestors for guidance.

I jump from my bed and run to my altar sitting in the Southwest corner of my room. I light the white candle sitting upon the soft white egyption cotton cloth I’ve draped over my small square wooden table, I light my sage and cleanse the space around the alter and around my body. I take the clear crystal bowl I have and pour in fresh spring water so the ancestors might drink, and pour some water into the vase of Sunflowers sitting to the right of the altar, they were my Grandmother’s favorite, I will think of her as I open myself up to guidance from the ancestors. She was the wised woman I’ve ever known, she will know who this intruder is. I silence my thoughts, and sit in a lotus pose, meditating on the owl, wondering his name and who sent him. I feel a warmth hovering over my chest, I sense it rise up through my throat, filling my head with light and warmth. I am silent.

For a while I heard nothing, just the echos of my own thoughts, but then I realized, I could no longer feel the floor beneath me, I couldn’t feel my breath in my diaphragm. I felt weightless, as I slowly drew my eyes open, there he was, in my room, much large than in my dream, he seemed to take up all of the space in my bedroom. My bedroom seemed to have melted away and all there was was him, his gaze soft, his beak gently opening to whisper, “Oktavia.” He said gently, my name, I felt tears rolling down my face in a wave of overwhelming joy, but why?! “Who are you?!” it felt as though I shouted with every pore in my body, but my voice could not be heard. He opened his beak again. “I am…”