The Barn Owl Knows

This wasn't the first time I sat alone in the barn. Listening to the echoing hoots of the barn owl in the chilling night air. The smell of hay lingering on every breath I took. Looking up into the rafters at the feathered body perched high above, watching me like he did every night. I'd like to think that if the owl could speak, he'd have kind things to say about me. I imagine that we would go on adventures into the woods together. I could live this life my father had made for me and I could finally start to live. Maybe make a friend. But no.Not after what I've seen.

I learned at a very early in life that the kindest of people have a hidden monster inside of them. Here I was, only 10 years old, and having seen the truest of evils that people hide from the rest of the world. Although, my father does his best to keep me safe, he can't protect me forever.

"Who's my little princess?" He would ask almost every night when he would tuck me into my bed. Pulling my thick flannel comforter up to my chin.

"I am." I would coo before he would kiss me on the forehead. Just like many nights before, we both hoped that the night would go on without the monsters that one hears about would creep out of the darkness and come crashing down into out quiet cottage. But like so many nights before, there's no protecting you from the monsters that live under the roof with you.

Maybe that's why my father moved us out here to the middle of no where, to make sure that the unspoken monster that lived within could somehow be contained if we removed temptation. But as I sit on a hard stack of hay, the barn owl watched as my father dug yet another hole in the cold earth and buried another body.

I've come to love the sound of the hard metal shovel crashed through the earth as my father labored away in the dead of night. That sound meant I had been spared another day. That as someone else, wrapped in a white sheet, was being lowered into the earth instead of me. I looked around the backyard at the other spots I knew to contain human remains. Each mound of dirt told a story of someone who didn't know what they were getting into when my father brought them into our home. But I knew. So did the barn owl. So far he and I were the only ones kept safe from the monster that father has kept hidden out here in the woods.

"Maggie, go inside. I'm almost done here." Father's voice sounded nothing like you would imagine as someone who had just finished burying another lifeless body. You'd think there would be the sound of remorse or sadness. I only heard a slightly fatigued nature in his tone as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. But I guess he could be hiding how he truly felt. If he could hide his feelings as well and he hid the dead people in our yard, he could absolutely keep his feelings unknown.

I hopped of the hay bail, skipping my way back to the cottage in my nightgown and slippers. A matching set of pink white flowers embroidered though out. A gift from my mother, long before she became one of the mounds of dirt in the yard. Father cried when he buried her. He blamed himself for the death of our mother. He said that he should have spoken to a doctor a long time ago to help rid this world of the monster that kept lashing out at the people who got too close to our family. He thought moving us out here would lower the chances of someone we knew getting caught in the fits of rage that exploded and ended the lives of anyone caught in the crossfire. But all it did was make sure that the ones who are now buried were those of the ones we held the most dear.

I sat down on the sofa, pulling my feet up to my chest, holding onto them for warmth as I waited for father come in. I wasn't there for long when his footsteps were heard making there way through the gravel path leading up to the house. Closing the door behind him when he entered the home, he wouldn't look at me. I knew what this meant. He was in fact feeling guilty about what had happened. He was still holding the shovel, which was different. Usually, it sat idly by in the barn until father needed it to dig another grave. But this time, father held onto it firmly. He stomped through the living room until he planted himself on his lazy-boy chair, letting out a deep sigh.

"I can't do this anymore Maggie." His eye's weren't open, but his fists were still tightly wrapped around the handle of the shovel.

"What's wrong, daddy?" I knew I just needed to talk this out with him. Keep him calm so that the monster wouldn't be coaxed out with a yelling match.

"It's getting harder to keep doing this, princess." He sounded tired. Not from the exertion of digging another grave. A mental fatigue. His resolve was wearing thin.

"Why, daddy?" I didn't the tone of his voice. I knew that if he wasn't going to protect me anymore, I didn't have much more time in our cabin.

"This time was different. It was your sister." I swear I saw a glimmer of water on the corner of his eye. Just one tear. That's all he would give my poor fallen sister. The latest victim of the monster we didn't speak of.

"Don't worry, daddy. You'll always have me." I was hoping that he would agree with me and end my worry. Hopefully he'd get over whatever inner turmoil he was facing and do what he needed to do to keep his last child safe.

"I have to call the sheriff." That's when he broke. The one single tear turned into a sob. More tears streaming down his face now. He knew that the list of possible victims was growing smaller everyday and there was only one left. "I have to end this."

"Why did you let it go on for so long?" I asked, curious to his answer.

"I thought I could keep you safe. I thought I could stop the death." He realized now that all his attempts to save me were done in vein. He had failed.

"Well...." I took a deep breath. Giving him a moment to compose himself. "No one will believe you." He didn't like the sound of that.

"I have to tell the police what you've done, Maggie." Was he really trying to make amends? Trying to reason with a monster? Had he learned nothing from all the lives I've taken?

"No one will believe that a little girl killed all those people." He wasn't crying anymore, but his eyes stayed closed. He accepted that I was right. No one would believe that I had done the horrible things to the bodies buried in our yard. Not when my father was the one with all the strength. He would protect me for now. Until the monster lashed out again and then it would be up to me to dig the graves from now on.