The Cycle

I’d like to say that I felt like I mattered. I’d like to say that people cared. But I honestly don’t know if I can say that and be telling the truth.

They say you find out who truly loved and cared for you once you’re gone. Well? I’m gone. Where are all my adoring fans? Where’s the list of nice things they’ll say about me? Why did no one attend my funeral?

How did I go from being the person that everyone could confide in and trust to dead, in a box, buried and forgotten?

There aren’t any flowers. Did you know that? I always thought that all funerals had flowers. Like they were part of the standard funeral package or something that the sleazy funeral home people try to push on the grieving parents. But no. Not mine. Nope not a single living thing. Ha. Get it? Living thing? At a funeral! Oh come on. I’m dead and even I thought that was funny.

I’m getting ahead of the story, though. Who starts a story dead? Seriously. So, let’s rewind. A week ago. Back to a time when...when things made sense.

* * * * * * *

“Woah slow down!! Where’s the fire?”

Rachel Hollerbrook, my best friend since grade school, was still jealous that I got my permit before her. She hated that she had to ride with me when she had always kind of been the head chick. To relinquish even a little of that power was devastating to her.

“Calm down,” I said, as I made a complete (California) stop before turning into the school parking lot. “I’m not going any faster than anyone else.”

We pulled into our usual spot, grabbed our bags and walked towards the school.

“Wait up!” We kept walking. “Hey Rachel! Wait I’m right behind you!” I quickened my pace, but knew that it was worthless.

“Trent. Hey. What’s up this morning?” Trent Calhoun. Resident jock(strap) and all-around “great guy” had been pining after Rachel since the 7th grade. And why shouldn’t he? She’s beautiful, popular, the head cheerleader...everything I’m not. Trent was captain of the basketball team and the baseball team, but Rachel wanted nothing to do with him.

“Ladies. How are we doing this beautiful morning?” he said, gesturing to the cloudless blue sky. “I just thought that maybe you’d like an escort to the building.”

Rachel laughed and shoved him. “Trent, you’re such a loser! It’s like 15 feet to school. We’ll be fine.”

For someone who had “no interest in that big-headed jerkface” (Rachel’s words) Rachel sure touched him a lot.

Trent didn’t take the hint. He continued walking alongside us until we walked into the school. Now, something you should know about Fairbrooks High is there is a hierarchy system when it comes to the lockers. Some schools separate by grade, Fairbrooks actually separated by popularity. Of course they didn’t call it that. But nonetheless, that’s what it was. Therefore, my locker, seeing that I had yet to “fully immerse myself in the high school experience”, Rachel’s words again, was at the end of the hallway with mostly freshmen and those you’d consider geeks or nerds. This was fine with me. They were kind of my people so it worked out well.

Trent and Rachel’s lockers were almost side by side, what with her being head cheerleader and him being the top jock in school. Between them, was Bryson Daniels, the quarterback, president of the sophomore class and ultimate school track star. He methodically deposited his backpack in his locker while pulling out his textbooks. He slammed his locker behind him and for a second, it drowned out Rachel’s annoying school-girl giggling.

I watched Bryson, for a bit longer than I probably should have. He turned down the east hallway, towards the science wing. He was the type of guy that I could see myself going out with. He was always friendly to everyone, not just the jocks or the academics. I may or may not have had a crush on him since like the sixth grade. I knew I’d never act on it, so stare from afar was all I could do.

The bell rang, signaling the five minute warning to get to first period. I hurriedly grabbed my books and rushed down the hall towards Mr. Jenkins’ English class. It was actually one of my favorite classes and I didn’t want to be late.

The day passed like all others before. Rachel and I met up for lunch and then had fifth period geometry together. Same old shit, different day. But tonight was going to be different.

“So you have everything all figured out then, right,'' Rachel said, talking over Ms. Williams the geometry teacher. “I mean, if I were you, I’d have everything planned out to the minute!” She squealed a little. It was so annoying.

“Uh yeah. I’ve got kind of an idea,” I said, not really wanting to talk about it. The truth was, I was kind of hoping tonight would be no big deal. A disappointment even that no one would even come to. I was throwing my first high school party. And no, I was NOT looking forward to it at all.

Rachel was reapplying her Perfect Pout lip gloss in Precious Pink, using an old fashioned cosmetic mirror. She kissed at her reflection in the tiny glass and pushed on. “Seriously. It’s like you don’t even want to throw this party.”

“Rach, I don’t! YOU pushed me into this. YOU orchestrated everything. I would rather curl up on the couch and read!” I shoved her, playfully of course, but enough to get across my frustration with her. Rachel had everything so why she needed me to throw a party, I never understood.

The bell rang and they filed out of the classroom. The rest of the day went by in a blur. Nothing exciting. Nothing new. Nothing ever was.

That’s when I saw it. It was almost black as night and staring very intently at me. The barn owl seemed to be a message, though I didn’t know about what yet.

Rachel was waiting by the car. “Come on!! We have a million things to do before tonight!”

Reluctantly, I crawled into the driver’s seat. “Alright. Where to first?”

Before she could answer, someone knocked on my driver’s window, nearly scaring me to death. I turned to see the absolute last person I ever thought I’d see….Bryson Daniels. It took me longer than it should have to react as I stared at my crush within touching distance!

“Uh, hey. I,” he seemed nervous, which was weird because I was definitely no one to be nervous around. “I heard there might be a party...at...uh...your place tonight. I was thinking of coming...I mean, stopping by. For the party.”

My mouth wouldn’t form words. It was beyond dry and my brain had vacated the premises. Rachel elbowed me...hard, and it kick started my brain.

“Oh h..h.hey Bryson,” I managed to stammer out. “Yeah. I’m having a party. I’d love you to come, I mean to the party. It’s tonight. At my house.” Idiot, I thought to myself. He already knew all of that information.

“Sounds great! I’m looking forward to seeing you...and everyone. At the party.” Bryson Daniels, the hottest of the hot, then turned and walked awkwardly away.

Rachel glared at me from the passenger seat. “Um, what the hell was that, space case?!”

I didn’t know. I was having a total out of body experience.

I was still lost in my thought process when the sound of my own car horn pulled me out.

“Rachel, what the hell?!”, I exclaimed, exacerbated.

She flashed me one of her I’m so sorry looks. “What? We have a million things to do before the party and you’re stuck in la la land.”

She was harsh, but also right. If I was going to pull off this party, I needed to get my head back in the game. I gave the creepy barn owl one more glance before backing out of my space.

We were headed down Lafayette Boulevard towards the party store when it hit me. The owl. My mom had told me a story about my great great grandmother. I had always thought it was a joke.

“Rachel, I’m sorry but we can’t have this party.” I looked at her with my most I’m 100% serious face.

“Girl you’re crazy. Bryson Daniels just said that he’s coming! How can you possibly think about cancelling now?” She rolled down the window and tossed out the grape Bubblicious she’d been smacking on for 15 minutes. “And besides, what could possibly be so important that you have to cancel at the last minute like that?”

She wouldn’t believe me even if I had a powerpoint presentation with actual pictures and facts. It was useless. The party would have to go on.

I turned in the parking lot that housed both the party store, grocery store and liquor store. It was basically one big corner lot designed for partying. Grabbing my purse, I stepped out of the car. There, sitting ever so quiet and calm, was that damn owl.

“Rachel, look. See that black owl?”

Rachel craned her head around, searching the sky.

“No not in the air. It’s on the sign post there.” I pointed, but I knew it was no use. She wouldn’t see it. Not if the story was true, which I was now feeling fairly certain it must be.

“Ok, I don’t see anything. Can we just get the party stuff?” Rachel’s patience had been growing thin and was not about to evaporate entirely.

A few hours had passed and we’d bought half the party store and almost all the grocery store. Our fake ID’s failed to score us the wine and Schnapps that we were hoping for, but after a quick peep show in the broom closet, Rachel scored us a 12 pack of beer from the pock-faced clerk. I didn’t judge.

Back at my house, Rachel was busying herself blowing up balloons while I twisted streamers to hang around the door ways. So much work for a party I wasn’t even going to be at. I had truly bought into the story of the old black barn owl at this point. So either I was totally bat shit crazy and seeing things, or my family was cursed for some ancient evil they’d performed. The world may never know.

As it got a little later, I thought that maybe I was wrong and I would get to see Bryson Daniels walk through my front door. I hadn’t seen the owl since we were shopping. Maybe it gave up on me. I actually started to look forward to the party.

Rachel had picked out an outfit for me and I was busily applying my makeup and the fake eyelashes that she had insisted on me wearing when the first black feather fell into the sink.

I tried to ignore the inky black thing as I smeared my eyelid with a sparkly purple powder. Feather number two landed on my hair brush.

I flicked it off and started brushing my hair. Suddenly the brush caught in my tangled mess of hair. When I yanked it out, there was not red, frizzy hair, but more black feathers. However these were different. These feathers had a hint of red to them.

The transformation took less than a minute.

You see, I’m not actually dead. But when I disappeared without a trace, I was just assumed dead.

I’ll return in 10 years. At that time, I get to choose. Human again by damning another family member to the life of the owl? Or stay an enchanted owl for life. No one has ever chosen the latter otherwise the curse would have been broken...allegedly.

See you in 10 years, little brother.