Twenty-Five Feet

The members of our community very rarely live their full natural lives. In fact, there’s a saying amongst us that when your number is up, you won’t even see it coming. The true terror that is the only life we know. There’s an ominous feeling in the air tonight. The weather has turned cold and a new moon has come, making it the darkest of nights. Our food supply has run out and has become scarce in the area, forcing our clan to travel deeper into the wild in order to survive. This time, we might have traveled too far, twenty-five feet away, and across a wide-open patch of grass. It might as well be twenty-five miles, for what awaits us on our perilous journey back home.

There is a family of giants that stand on two legs, and live in a large wooden structure across from our home. They have instrumented many devices of death around the area that have effectively banished us all from ever entering there. Horrific poisons and torturous traps have taken many us over the years, but their worst deterrent is an awful four-legged rogue that haunts the grounds during the day. It is a ferocious black beast with a white face and white feet, and sharp fangs and claws. The giants lovely refer to it as Mr. Kitty. So dominant is this beast in its cunning and insatiable appetite that it has forced us to only travel under the cover of darkness for when it returns inside for the night. Our clan does not have a word for the evil that hunts us in the night though. In fact, there are very few among us that have ever seen this phantom and lived. The giants have called it an Owl, or more specifically, that damn barn owl. We only know it as death, the silent winged assassin. The only warning of its presence is short little screams it emits that gives chills us to our bones. Recently it has increased its efficiency, taking one of us every night during the gathering missions. Will this be the night I meet my end? It is the fear that we all share.

My brothers and I, my last three brothers Richie, Ronnie, Roger, wait anxiously on the edge of the last cover, twenty-five feet from safety. It’s far too cold and dangerous for us to wait any longer. Our mouths stuffed with food, desperately needed to feed our family, we nod to each other and head out into the cold and vast void. Speed is our enemy. The faster we move, the more noise we make and can give away our positions. We will have to be as quiet as, well us. The first five feet go rather smoothly, as we reach cover near a small branch that has fallen. Together we look out over the field and still sense nothing of eminent danger. Feeling confident and with the urgency of motion, we hop over the branch and being again. Twenty feet away and suddenly we hear it. The telltale screech that warns us our winged nemesis has taken flight. Still, we know not to run straight away. We scatter slightly and try to vary our movements to look like the fallen leaves blowing in the crisp fall air. The owl’s vision is superior and can penetrate the darkest of nights. Even more terrifying is its sense of hearing. So acute that I feel it can hear the beating of my heart, or the thoughts in my head.

Fifteen feet away and a sudden realization washed over us. It is dead silent. The wind has stopped and the crickets have paused their songs, because they know what hovers above them. My ears perked up, and my whiskers had a tingling sensation. Boom! A lightning flash of brown and white streaked down from the sky, grabbing the smallest of my brothers, Roger. He let out a tiny squeal of terror and pain, and as quick as the dive happened, both he and the foul beast were gone. We quickly scatter in different directions. Richie scampered back the way we came, probably never to be seen again. Ronnie sprinted straight for a small bush far to the right. I ran and hid under a small pile of leaves that had gathered. My heart racing and head throbbing so hard I was sure the devil could hear it. Soon the silence returned, and I was forced to block out the knowledge that now two of my brothers were gone. This was no place or time to grieve. Only surviving mattered now. I looked across the field and made eye contact with my last remaining brother and we continued our slow crawl to safety.

Ten feet away and we both foolishly thought the abominable demon had found its lone trophy for the night. We quickened the pace, our home coming clearer in the distance. Was he going to make it, was I? Just then, I looked out the corner of my eye, and in seemingly slow-motion I saw the owl swoop down from a near by tree. Its wings spread wide, it floated effortlessly down and sunk its talons deep into Ronnie’s back and launched back up in the dark from which it came. Paralyzed with fear, I froze like a statue, motionless, breathless, for what seemed like hours, but was only mere moments. Was it possible there was more than one Owl out there?

Five feet away and the stealth approach had to be abandoned. Now, only a mad dash to the end made sense. I mustered all the courage left in my body and forced myself forward, knowing this was the only way I’d make it to sanctuary.

Four feet away and thoughts raced through my head. The owl, on only the most extraordinary of occasions, had taken two of us in one night. It had never taken three. The odds are finally in my favor. I’m going to make it.

Three feet away and this will be the longest yard of my life. The tiny hole into my home is now visible. I’m so close now.

Two feet away and a warm thought embraced me. Seeing the chubby cheeked smiling faces of my family as I returned triumphantly, a hero with the much-needed supplies.

One foot away and I’ve arrived near the doorstep. So much was sacrificed and lost this night, all so I could survive. I take the last few steps. I am home fr…