The Owl Girl

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The Owl Girl

In day she hides behind the fragile mask of humanity, thick glasses perched on a small nose, dark hair in wild disarray. Eyes on the ground, a quick step and an arm full of books to keep others away.

When the moon rises round and fat, the night creatures sing and Athene sheds the pale mask of humanity and slips from her human skin. Shining feathers burst from pale flesh. She flies screeching into the night, free to hunt and wishing the dawn will never come.

The world turns and night spills across the sky, strings of glittering jewels, necklaces of suns and worlds scattered across unending black.

The sun crests the horizon, golden rays falling on golden eyes and black and white feathers. Athene fights again the change, the slip back into human form. Feathers fly on the wind as her wing shifts to a human arm, bones twisting, breaking.

Fat tears roll down feathery cheeks, but the pain is too much to fight for one small masked owl and she lets her night shape slip away. Bones and feathers and cries of pain and a small dark haired girl is all that remains.

She crawls to the hallow she hid her clothes, dressing quickly in the cool dawn light. Wiping tears from her cold cheeks she slips her glasses on.