Owlsong Chapter 2

continuation

Chapter 2

 

 

 

Jayne

I feel like I have been startled awake, though I don’t think I have slept. It’s hard to determine what is real and what is not real here. When I try to think of where I am, everything is white. But, when I think of rider, I can see him around me. It's almost as If I am inside my own head. With every thought of Rider, of you, my surroundings change. But no matter how far or how fast I move toward them or away from them, I am never any closer; or worse, farther away. Whatever it is, it is strange.

I realize, suddenly, the reason why I am startled. I heard something. The first sound I have heard here. I sit and listen for a while, and nothing. I know I heard something, but what? From where? I whirl around to see something, anything, to identify any type of sound. However, it is very hard to identify a sound when you can’t remember what it was… and have only the faintest memory of hearing it. Something inside of me tells me it was real, but here, I can’t be sure.

The fog swirls into more paintings of Rider as my mind drifts away. Until I see myself, a small girl in the first grade with a case of the giggles. I always have laughed at the most inappropriate times. I see him now, watching me laugh with an emotion in his eyes I can’t identify. Then his laughter came. It was that loud, annoying chuckle that I couldn’t keep myself from laughing at harder. Within seconds, we were laughing so loud, and neither of us could explain what was so funny to Mrs. Ledman. When she sent us to the principal for punishment, and he took the blame, it was the first time in my entire life I felt safe. I’ll never forget that moment. It took me 5 years to tell him the real reason I was crying.

I watch that moment fade into black like the end of a sad movie, when I hear it again.

 

 

 

Rider

 

I must have fallen asleep. I’m awake now, on my bedroom floor. My mom must have stayed until I was asleep, because I don’t remember her leaving. I’m covered with a blanket, and my head is on a pillow. Thanks mom.

     I sit up and flip the light on. My alarm clock says its ten after midnight. 13 days and 4 hours. My entire body is aching, and my head is pounding.

     “I need aspirin.” I say out loud.

     The house is quiet, of course, because my mom is at work, and my younger sister is most likely at a friend’s house or with a sitter. Normally, that is my job. I guess I really am letting everyone down. Sorry mom. It’s just been hard without you, Jayne. I can’t believe you’re gone. Pinch.

     Once I am in the bathroom, I decide I might as well take a shower. No, a shower is too much effort. A bath will do. I turn on the water and wait for the tub to fill. Even this bathroom reminds me of you. The purple walls, your favorite color. The green accents almost the exact same color as your eyes when you would smile. I felt my eyes struggle to make tears, but tonight there were none left. I sat there; staring in the mirror, dry sobbing. I am so pathetic without you.

     I sink into the water and let my mind drift to thoughts of you.

“Hey Rider, Wait up!” yelled a blond, green-eyed girl as we walked home from school. “Why did you do that? I wasn’t laughing at you.”

     “I don’t know.” I lied, embarrassed.

     “Well, thanks anyway, and I’m sorry you’re in trouble because of me.”

     We walked the rest of the way in silence, all the way to her house as we had every day before. And, as I turned to walk through the meadow to my house, you said the weirdest thing:

“Rider, I really am sorry. I’ll see you at school tomorrow, if you can come.”

What a strange way to say goodbye, my six-year-old brain thought. I walked a little slower than normal, since I knew the principal had called my mother. When I walked in the door, my mom said:

“Alright, you’re grounded for today. Honey, you need to make sure you aren’t disrupting class anymore. The kids there are trying to learn, and you should be too. School isn’t time to play. I’m sorry Rider, but I can’t let you have any TV time tonight.”

Ugh, exactly what I had been dreading. Looking back now, I was such… a child.

I sit in the bathtub until the water goes cold. Even then, it takes all of my energy to lift myself out. My heart is so heavy, I can’t bear to even dry off. Lying in bed, I force myself to try and empty my mind of thoughts… even of thoughts of you. I don’t think I ever succeeded, but I nodded off a few hours later, my blanket and pillow still lying on the floor.

 

 

 

Jayne

 

I’ve been walking for what seems like forever, and I am no closer to the sound than I was before. I keep hearing it, and I know it sounds familiar. But I can’t remember. It’s a cool, soothing sound. It almost reminds me of nighttime. Does that make sense? It also reminds me of Rider.

     The only clue I have is the thick brush strokes of paint I see when I hear it. The blues and browns are all around, swirling like the wind does through the trees. It makes me feel like I’m outside in the meadow. As soon as I think of the meadow, the paint changes to yellows and sky blue like the flecks of color in Rider’s eyes. All around I see him, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t focus on the pictures I see when the noise comes back.  

     I also blame this on you. The only clue I have to where I am, to what this place is, and I can’t focus on it. I can’t directly blame you, but I know this is your doing. If you aren’t the reason I can’t identify the sound, then you are the reason I can’t focus. If you aren’t the reason I can’t focus, then you are the reason why I’m here. Immediately, all of the colors change to midnight blacks and blood read. Here you are, forcing your way into my thoughts.

     I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for the anger to pass. When I open them again, everything is white. Thank goodness.

My very first memory of my entire life is of my mother. She died when I was 4. At least I hope she did. But that’s a different story for another time.

     My very first memory was of my mother, in a long orange sun dress in the backyard hanging up laundry to dry. It was windy out, so I remember her getting frustrated with the clothes. After a few minutes of fighting, I figured I would go help her, though now, I know that I could never have been much help to her.

     “Go find something to do, Jayne. You’re just in the way.” She said as I walked up to her.

     I started to grab some clothes out of the basket when a firm hand grabbed my wrist. I looked up to see you, and as a two year old girl, I was excited to see you. I had been waiting to see you for days. I’m not even sure how old I was when that feeling stopped coming. But I do know that eventually, dread took its place.

     “Daddy!” I chirped.

     I was ignored, of course. But, my mother whispered something to my father that made him angry. I always wondered if she told you I spilled her coffee on the rug in the dining room, or if she told you I knocked the neighbor girl down on accident. I don’t have any idea, and I’ll never know now.

     What I do know, is your hand tightened around my wrist, and you pulled me inside the house. Immediately, my excitement turned to fear. You were holding on so tight, that I had tears streaming down my face. You walked so fast that I tripped over my own feet. When I fell, you yanked me up holding only my wrist and pulled me faster.

I remember you saying:

“If you want to cry, I’ll give you something to cry about.” Though, I thought you already had.

 I’m sure it wasn’t the first time, but it was the first time I remember. The worst part was the smirk on my mom’s face as I was dragged away.

Rider

When I wake up, the first thing I think of is the way I found out you weren’t here anymore. Pinch.

I went to meet you in our designated spot. I was almost a whole hour late. When I didn’t see you there, I knew something was wrong. I waited a half hour, and figured you went home.

I started back toward our houses, disappointed. I hoped you hadn’t changed your mind, but figured you had. We were young and unprepared, where would we go if we left, anyway?

I saw the red and blue flashing lights in the distance and I knew. Well, actually I had no idea, but I knew you were gone. My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach, and I threw up. I stood there in the middle of the meadow for what seemed like an eternity. I don’t even remember my mom coming and grabbing me, but I remember her hands on my shoulders leading me back to our house. That’s where she told me.

“Rider, do you know what happened? Did you talk to Jayne today?”

“I don’t know, mom. Tell me what is happening.”

“Honey, she shot herself.”

I don’t remember if I said anything after that. I don’t remember if I cried, if I yelled, or even if I breathed. I don’t remember if my mom said anything else. I kept replaying those words in my head for hours. For days. Who am I kidding; I still hear those words over and over again.

I thought you were dead. I mean, you practically are. Pinch. I really couldn’t believe it when I found out you weren’t.

I still can’t believe it. I can’t believe you are alive. Sort of. I can’t believe you did it. Why? I know I was late, but why? You know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t just abandon you. Was one more hour… not even an hour… to long for you to wait for me? It was only an hour.

It was a whole hour. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have stopped and wasted time. But I wasted time for you. I stopped to empty my bank account. I even took money off my mother’s debit card. I was preparing to leave. I know, I’m so sorry. I should have gone straight to you. How long did you wait for me before you decided to end it all?

I dream about you all the time. I think of you constantly when I am awake. I wish you would just walk into my bedroom like you did all the time. I wish you were in your ripped black jeans and your favorite sweatshirt. I wish you would plop your backpack down on my bed and lay on your stomach with your hair in a ponytail. I wish you would take out your journal and start….

Wait! Your journal! You always had your journal on you. But when they took you from the scene to the hospital you wouldn’t have had it with you. It’s in your house. With Him.

 

Author's Note

Do I still have your attention?

Reviews

[Christyn Jeffries]

You still have my attention. I'm starting to wonder where this is going, though.

[Hadrienbarr]

Wondering where it's going as in, you want to read more? Or you don't feel the story is going anywhere?

[Christyn Jeffries]

Well, either Jayne is going to wake up, or she isn't, and I imagine its has to be one or the other pretty soon. What then? Are they going to take on her father together? Run away? To what? After the problem of Jayne's coma is resolved, what is the rest of the book going to be about?

[Hadrienbarr]

Rider is looking for answers right now. Why did she do it, why didn't she wait for him? He believes those answers will be found in the journal, but will they? Will he find things that he wishes he'd never seen, are the answers even in the journal? How will he get the journal? Jayne is in a (Asgard as we can tell ) permanent coma state... Maybe she wAkes up maybe she doesn't. Honestly, the setting of where rider is doesn't matter, because the book will take place where Jayne is.

[Hadrienbarr]

As far* and excuse other typos... Holding an infant and typing