Birds of Prey

Chapter I: Late Shift

Life. What is it exactly? Is it just a flicker of light, a fleeting moment that nobody will remember in the long run? Or is it something more? Something that we can hold onto, something that we can cherish and believe in?

I’ve often wondered about the true meaning of life. Growing up, I was always told to make something of myself, to achieve something great, to be someone important. But as I’ve grown older, I’ve started to wonder if that’s really what life is all about. Is it to achieve greatness, to make a name for ourselves in this world? Or perhaps it’s simply to exist, to breathe in the air that surrounds us and feel the beating of our hearts as we go about our daily lives. Maybe none.

But amidst this funny feeling, there is love. Love that is supposed to fill people up and leave them wanting more. Love that brings them joy amidst the chaos of this world. Love that reminds them that maybe, just maybe, life is worth living after all.

And so I ask myself, is it worth it? Is it worth living long enough to love? To finally… Be free?

Manchester, UK
Jacob Turner

“Good evening! What can I get you ?” I welcomed an old lady who entered the bakery alongside with her small, now soaked, greish dog. I was on my late shift again, trying to grind some extra money. It was pouring outside, typical english weather. I’ve lost track of time a long time ago. All I know now is that it was dark and cold. I wanna go home so bad.

“Hello darling,” she said signaling her dog to sit nicely on the doormat. “I’m so sorry about the mess. You still have any of those strawberry muffins? I know it’s pretty late and it’s okay if you don’t.” she asked nicely, making me sketch a smile under my tired eyes. My hands left the counter for a moment only for me to check in the back for the lady’s dessert.

“Yes ma’am of course we do. How many would you like?” I grabbed a silver tray with the last three muffins left. She looked at them and up at my figure.

“I would like two please. I’m taking one for my grandson. He had his math test today and he was kind of discouraged. I want to reward him.” Her reply filled me with tenderness. Them old people make me so happy sometimes, just like babies. They act so cute and innocent, well most of them. I wanna have my math test today and recieve a strawberry muffin from my grandma so badly.

“Right away ma’am. So how was your day?” I said grabbing my plastic gloves and a paper bag to put the muffins in, trying to make small talk meanwhile.

“It was fine, delightful actually. I spent most of it crocheting on the couch. I tried a new sweater pattern and it took quite some time to get used to it but it was okay. Then i took Barry out for a walk and the rain ruined our trip apparently.“ she told me with a small laugh. “And yours?“

“Well you know… just here and there. There was a fancy-dressed man today who ordered a white chocolate cake and when he came to pick it up he got a phone call and left in a rush. Without taking his cake. I had to chase him down the street to give him the cake. I guess that was my cardio for today. “ i said chuckling while taking my gloves off and pressing some buttons on the register.

“That will be £15“ I handed her the small bag and she put a £20 bill in front of me.

“Have one for yourself sweetie, you deserve it. Come on Barry. Momma’s got a gift for Jeremy!” she said winking on her way out. I need more people like this in my life. Not only for the tips but their comforting personality makes it all. And their- wet…dogs. Charming…Guess I’d better get to mopping. And maybe thank Jeremy later.

After about 4 songs and some glimpses out the window i was finally ready to go home. The rain has finally stopped and i was more than happy to see that. I packed my last muffin in another paper bag and stuffed it in my backpack, trying not to crush it. I quickly shut the curtains and locked the door and walked in a small alleyway where my motorcycle was parked.

I wiped the raindrops on my saddle with my sleeve and then put my worn out leather jacket and helmet on. Thank God my dad was a biker back in the day, otherwise i would be wearing some hoodie right now.

“Hey there girl. Sorry I left you in the rain. We won’t go hard tonight. The road’s still wet and we don’t wanna slip, do we?” I say patting the shining tank. I am talking to my bike. Or I’m slowly going insane. Or mabye both. She’s everything i’ve got closest to a friend. Despite the weak light shining from the a red neon banner nearby, she was still beautiful as a nymph. A white hornet, manually repainted because we had to take that rust off first, is still running like the wind. It was the only thing I couldn't bring myself to sell. I guess that’s the bike-biker relationship i’ve been hearing about in the movies.

I mount up and start her with a quick key gesture, her exhaust music to my ears. I look down on the small and dark screen near the tachometer only to check the time. 22 :37. Unsurprisingly late.

The ride home was like a nightwalk. Riding my bike already was second nature to me and it was also therapeutic. Barely a car on the streets, a calm and peaceful evening.

I parked my bike in front of our house and put the black cover on top of her in case it gets cold tonight. There was not a soul on the street, only a dog barking somewhere not so close. I slowly entered the house, trying not to wake my mom and sister up. It was pretty late and all the lights were off. Except one. My mother’s bedroom. I guess she’s staying up late to read again.

I went to the kitchen feeling kidda thirsty from the long shift. I grabbed a small glass and poured some tap water, reading between the lines of a random newspaper on the counter. I took a couple more sips and then decided to check up on my sister. Entering her room, I could only make out a small sleeping figure in the corner of her bed.

“Lera…" Isaid to myself smiling a little. School must have tired her with all those lectures. Sometimes I miss highschool, I miss having no responsibilities or having nothing better to do than sit on a chair for eight hours and learn all kinds of stuff. When I was about to enter her room, I felt an odd faint smell coming from my mother’s room. The candle slipped again?

I quickly rushed to the dimly lit room and finally identified the strange smell. Smoke. Smoke invading my mom’s room. She was still in bed not facing me. I ran up to her, trying to open a window.

“Mom? Are you okay?" I asked silently carefully sitting next to her on the bed.

“Jacob, my dearest boy. You’re re home. How was your day?” she whispered holding my hands.

“ It was fine mother. Exhausting but fine.“ I replied with a small laugh. Suddenly her hands were getting warm, warmer than usual. They were burning hot. And smoking. Her now burnt skin was slowly peeling off her hands turning to ashes when it hit the bedsheet. My eyes widened in shock.

“W-what’s happening?! Mom?“ I didn’t know what was going on. She was slowly vanishing before my very eyes like a phoenix. The air in the room became harder and harder to breathe, smoke invading my lungs making me cough hard.

“It’s nothing you should be afraid of, sweetie. I’m just going back to where i came from. You can leave momma rest now.” She added smiling gently. She was getting blurred like a cloud. I was holding a small cloud of smoke and ash that was slowly disappearing.

“No, no, no, no, I can’t leave now. I don’t want to. No please come back…mom… “ I replied sobbing. It was my fault. I wasn’t here. I should have been here. Why wasn’t i here ? WHY WASN’T I HERE ?!-

where was I?

My attention was drawn outside the window when I heard a pitched scream in the distance. I got up and glanced terrified. I could swear it was Valeria’s voice. When I wanted to leave my mom’s burned down room, I felt the ground shake under my feet. What was happening to me ?