The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!
It Wasn’t So Cute Anymore
by Melissa R. Mendelson
The cabin was a great idea. At first, my friends wanted to go hiking and then camp outdoors, but not me. I didn’t mind the hiking. I just didn’t want to sleep outside with the wildlife and insects, especially the insects. We decided on a cabin for the weekend, and I needed to get away, unwind and not worry about anything especially work.
That night, we had pot roast and then roasted marshmallows over an open fire. We laughed and told ghost stories. We sat outside, wrapped up in blankets and stared at the stars. It grew late, and my friends were giving each other that look. They asked me if it was okay, and I wasn’t bothered by it. It was only nature, and my body was telling me that it was time for sleep.
I crawled into a soft bed beside the window. I stared out at the stars, so many stars, and a smile crossed over my lips as the sound of my friends grew louder. I yawned and closed my eyes when something flew past the window, landing on a branch nearby. It was a cute, little white owl, and it stared at me with its large, yellow eyes. I smiled again as sleep crept over me.
I don’t know how long I was asleep for, but the cabin was quiet. My friends were done and probably passed out cold. I stretched my arms and legs and looked out the window. The stars were gone, but not the owl. The owl stared at me.
“Don’t you have anything better to do than stare at me?” The owl blinked. “I’m trying to sleep here.” I closed my eyes but then opened them. The owl was still there. “Fine. Be like that.”
I turned around, facing the door, but I could feel the owl’s eyes on me. Where they fell, my skin turned cold. I rubbed my arms and pulled the blanket up to my chin. I shut my eyes, but I could still feel it staring at me. And it was really starting to bother me.
“Go away.” I looked over my shoulder, and it seemed like the owl was closer to the window. “Go away.”
I shut my eyes, but I couldn’t sleep like this. I was more comfortable on my other side and flipped over, facing the window again. The owl was gone.
“Good. Maybe now, I could sleep.”
I felt its stare once more, but when I looked out the window, the owl was not there. Something touched my feet. It felt like feathers, and as I looked down toward the end of the bed, there were long, white feathers brushing against my feet. The owl was perched nearby with its gaze resting upon me, a gaze that it would give a mouse right before devouring it. The owl was not so small like before, and its feathers were not light but growing darker by the minute. And it wasn’t so cute anymore.
Fiction © Copyright Melissa R. Mendelson
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com.
About Author Melissa R. Mendelson:
Melissa R. Mendelson is a Poet and Horror, Science-Fiction, and Dystopian Short Story Author. Publications featuring her writing can be found here: https://linktr.ee/melissarmendelson