The Owl by Lucia Morosanu (best motivational books .txt) 📖

Mike didn’t turn to look at him. Jason thought that maybe he did not hear him. He said it again, but this time he shouted as hard as his lungs could stand. He felt another hand touching his neck. It felt cold and strange.

“I’ve had enough of your jokes. I know you can hear me. Something I took made my body completely sore and I can’t get up. Help me out, you idiot. I have no idea how long I’ve been out, but I have to get home,” said Jason, gathering all his strength.

There was no response. The hands continued touching his body, as though searching for a sign of life. As the fingers found his heart, he could feel the muscles pumping blood with great difficulty. I’m not dead yet, he thought. Jason smirked at the owl.

“My heart is still pumping. I can feel it. I still have a chance to get the fuck out of here and away from you,” said Jason.

“I know,” said the creature, still sitting cross-legged.

Mike and the other unknown person raised Jason’s body. His arms were put around necks and his feet dragged over warned out carpets and squeaky floors.

“Help! Someone fucking help me. This isn’t funny anymore!” yelled Jason.

Why can’t they hear me? Am I really shouting, or is it in my own head? he thought.

With great difficulty, he turned his head to face his friend. Jason could barely understand the expression on his face. He hoped it was concern, but maybe it was just annoyance with the fact that he had to carry his lifeless body to a safer place. He looked around. He forced his eyes to focus, but the only things he could see were blurred shapes. He didn’t know where he was, or where he was taken.

“Mike?” he asked, “Buddy, it’s me. I need your help. I need to get home. Help me!”

There was no answer.

He felt his body fall on something softer than the floor. He guessed they had carried him to the couch underneath the window. Jason could feel a cold touch in the place the needle once was. Mike had wiped his arm with alcohol and put some sort of bandage over it. He didn’t notice he was bleeding. Mike tied the bandage tight. A bottle was raised to his lips. Even though most of the liquid ran down his face, some managed to find its way down his throat. Only then did Jason realize just how thirsty he had been. Mike put the bottle down next to Jason and left.

“Mike!” yelled Jason as loud as he could. “Come back. Don’t leave me here alone. I need your help!”

Mike stopped and turned his head for a second. A glimmer of hope grew in the darkest of his soul’s corners. But it disappeared just as fast as Mike was lost in the sea of blurred colors.

“Come back, you idiot. I, I, I...I have some money. You can have it. You can have my car; whatever you want. Just help me get home! I don’t want to die here!” bellowed Jason, desperation taking slowly over.

“He cannot hear you. I am the only one who can,” said the creature.

Jason was startled by the sudden appearance of the owl. He almost forgot about it. But there it was, sitting calmly crossed-legged as it had before. Some soft light was entering the room through the window and it cascaded over the owl. It looked almost transparent.

“When did you get here?” asked Jason.

“I never left. I never do.”

“I’m getting pretty sick of your evasive talk. Go get Mike for me. I need his help!”

“I cannot do that. I cannot interfere.”

“Then, you fucking help me! I need someone to help me get to a cab that can take me home!”

“Only if you chose to come with me. I cannot help you live.”

“Then, why did you take my needle out?”

“Because the decision had to be yours, not the needle’s.”

“But Mike would have taken it out.”

“Maybe, but the time that had passed since those two events might have meant the difference between life and death.”

“What the hell are you talking about? It couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes.”

The creature was silent. It just pointed at Jason’s arm. The bandage had fallen off and his festering vein was now exposed. What once Jason remembered as a few delicate, highlighted lines, now became a defined pathway of pain and regret. He looked down at the dying vein that was slowly oozing a liquid. Jason almost stopped breathing; terrified that one wrong move might open a river he might not be able to close.

“What the hell is going on? When I last looked at my arm it was fine. Now it looks like it's going to kill me. I’m not fucking around here, man. Get me some help. I need someone to help me!” yelled Jason.

The creature was silent.

“Get me some help, you fucking sadist!”

The creature was still silent.

“I see what you’re doing. You’re playing dumb. You want something, don’t you? Is that what this charade was about? I don’t have a lot on me, but if you help me get home I’ll give you my car,” said Jason.

“I just want you to decide.”

“I’ve already told you. I want to live, but I can’t move. If you can’t help me, then tell someone else. Find Jimmy, he’s my friend. He came here with me and he can take me home,” said Jason, desperation in his voice.

“If you cannot help yourself, maybe there is a part of you that doesn’t want to live.”

“Fuck you!” yelled Jason. “Don’t tell me what I want; you have no fucking idea who I am and where I’m coming from. There’s one thing I want; I want to get out of here, I want to get home. It can’t end here. And I can’t get up and nobody will help. Not even the only fucking person who can hear me.”

“I cannot help you live,” said the creature calmly.

“Stop saying that!” shouted Jason.

Jason gave a loud shout of frustration. He refused to accept this. It was wrong, it was all-wrong. He closed his eyes to make his thoughts clear. He took a deep breath and started crying. A few tears at first, but as all the years of oppressed emotions began to come rushing out of him, his cries resembled those of a wounded animal. He cried out of disappointment and anger; out of bitterness and regret; out of deep shame and hatred for himself. He felt like he was on the edge of a very tall building and a voice in his head whispered ‘jump’. He cried more than he had cried in his entire life. He had cried more than he had thought he could. He thought that crying was the only thing he could do.

Nobody can hear me, he thought, but if they could, would it make a different. Would they care? Would they help me? Would I help someone in my situation? Fuck this. Fuck all of this! I just…I just…I just want to give up.

He didn’t know for how long he had cried, but he did it until his demons stopped screaming. He looked at the owl. It hadn’t moved.

“What’s happening? I don’t understand, make me understand,” he whispered.

His throat was desert dry. He knew he had the bottle next to him, but he couldn’t reach it. A bitter smirk formed on his face, imagining dying of thirst with water just inches away.

“It is the moment of decision,” said the owl.

“You’ve been saying that since I met you. I’ve already told you I want to live, but…”

“But, what?”

Jason was silent.

“I can see doubt in you. You cannot ignore it. Let it out and examine it. Let it tell you what it has to say. Let it show you the side you have been missing.”

“Tuesday I decided to walk to work,” said Jason. “I usually take my car, but it was such a nice day out that I thought it was a waste not to get some fresh air. I walked by an apartment building and one of the apartments was under renovations. I could only see the balcony windows. Inside, there was nothing. It was so empty that is gave me the chills. There was no door to the balcony and the walls looked like they had vanished. It looked like something was there at some point, but now it was gone; as thought it had simply vanished. That’s how I feel now. And I think that’s how I’ve been feeling for a long time. Like an empty apartment where no one has lived in for many years.”

The owl didn’t say a thing. Jason felt like the creature understood what he was talking about; or at least wanted to believe that.

Jason looked down at his arm again. A fresh crest had formed over the place that was before oozing. He thought that maybe a few hours might have past again, but he had abandoned the idea of keeping up with the passing time. He tried moving his right arm. His fingers were slowly starting to cooperate. But he didn’t know how long it would be before he could stand on his own feet and walk home. He didn’t know if his heart would still be pumping by then.

“I wanted to be a pilot when I was young. It was my dream. I always loved flying; the feeling of freedom and of total control. I wanted that; I craved that. Like a bird unbound by any strings. I did all I could, but my body couldn’t handle the pressure. I can barely fly in a commercial plane without throwing up every time. And you know what I became, Owly? A fucking system administrator. I wait for people to fuck up, so I can solve their irrelevant problems. I’m just a little piece in a very big puzzle. I don’t matter and I don’t care that I don’t. I’ve been doing it for so long, that I’ve gotten used to it. I forgot what I wanted because my body fucked me when I needed it the most; and now it’s fucking me one last time.”

Jason gave a short laugh, as though to acknowledge his own short comings.

The owl was silent.

“I wanted more from life. I could’ve been better. But I wasn’t. Both my parents are dead, I never married and I have no true friends. I was barely mediocre and I don’t think I’ll get the chance to do anything about it anymore,” said Jason, a cold emptiness in his voice. “But the worst part of all of it is that, somehow, I felt like if I had been exceptional I still wouldn’t be happy. So, I never really tried and I ended up alone and empty. I think that hurts the most.”

The owl still was silent.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all these things. I’ve never told anyone that I wanted to be a pilot. I didn’t want to get mocked, or to receive false encouragement. I wanted it to be mine and mine alone.”

“It’s easier to show one’s true face to people one does not know. There is no pressure to perform, no need for acceptance.”

“Guess that sounds about right. I don’t know if I’m getting closer to death, or you’re actually starting to make some god damn sense.”

Jason never felt this alone before; it was as though he was the only soul in the universe. His eyes started focusing a bit, and he could see zombie like people walking around, desperately trying to get their hands on anything that could make them feel something. He never knew one could be so alone in the world. In a sea of colors and sounds, he was invisible. He didn’t know how much time had passed since he opened his eyes; could have been an hour, could have been a day. The owl came closer and looked at Jason’s left arm. The vein was deep blue in color, the