Albert the Owlet

Dear Diary,

I've always been a very shy bird and it's hard for me to open up but since last year, when my teen-sister Alisa moved to New York City in order to pursue a career in show business, I've been inspired by her bravery.

"I bet they never saw a feathered creature singing rock and roll," said Alisa before she left.

"Hoot, hoo, hoo," I giggled.

I hope her beak doesn't get too big for her wings. She's a nice birdie. I can't believe she is my sister.

Here is the thing: I want to do something amazing as well, but I'm not sure yet what it will be. All I know is that it will be something incredible.

My name is Albert the Owlet. I'm among the youngest of my family, and besides our amazing Alisa, I've got five other brothers and sisters, and can't count how many cousins, all of whom are owls, of course.

Albert Twofeathers is my full name. My siblings typically refer to me as "Albie," which is not that great, just okay.

However, I absolutely dislike my last name. Twofeathers. All adult owls in our family have two bright orange feathers in their wings and that's why we all have to carry the name "Twofeathers" down our line, except for my Uncle Bob who was a great wizard in his time and changed his last name to "Lumina" before entering the wizarding world.

My mother's side of the family is called the "Barleytwistes" which is nothing special but does have a decent ring to it.

We are the Northern Saw-whet family of owls. All in our family have large round eyes and a pale grey face. My eyes, however, are not yellow; they're sky blue and my face is more white than it is grey.

I believe it is wrong to single out birds for not looking exactly the same as one another. I am saying that because I am often bullied for being so different.

"Awww! Are these bedside lights?" My blue eyes would be mocked by some bad bird.

"Twofeathers! You're a freak!" Another bully bird might scream.

I'm confused. Why should I be ashamed of my appearance? On the contrary, I actually like being different. I'm not going to lie though, it's been tough for me because apparently, I am the only blue-eyed barn owl around here and I don't know anyone else who is like me.

My family is cool though. There is no real judgment among any of them for anyone who is different. Quite the opposite actually. My Father Owl (he goes by Owlie-dad) is fond of literature and art. He's got shelves upon shelves filled with books, magazines, paintings, drawings.

When I was younger I used to sit next to him while he read me some of the classics like "Charlotte's Web" or one of Dr. Seuss' books. And when no one was looking I would steal a magazine and take it back to my room to sneakily read (it was National Geographic, if you must know).

Our barn is in dire need of repair. There are three floors plus an attic, a basement, and a loft. The barn was built by non-birds known as humans in the mid-1700s when they first settled into this land that used to be called Harmony Ridge before it became known as Owl Hollow after our arrival. It was a homestead for a long time and then it became a graveyard, but that's a long story for another day.

Okay, I'll give you a short version of it.

The legend has it that our barn used to be haunted before we moved in. Our history teacher at Bent Tree High explained to us why this is so: In 1740, the non-bird guy who owned the homestead murdered his entire family. After he killed his family he put their bodies in one of the barn's many empty rooms and then hung himself by a rope on the rafters above them.

That's why we moved in the barn because no one wanted to live there other than the ghosts of his misfortunate family.

Moving on.

It wasn't our entire class that was particularly mean towards me; just my one rude classmate, Artemisia Featherstone. She was Saw-whet just like me and I guess that's how we started our troubled relationship.

I think, she hated the fact that I liked reading and drawing, let alone the fact that I wasn't as social as all of my other classmates were.

So pretty early on in first grade, she started calling me all sorts of mean names like "bookworm" and "egghead." Not to mention, she didn't think I was cool because I wore glasses even though my parents said they were very stylish.

(For the sake of privacy, let's just call her Artie.)

I'm willing to bet that if this Artie hadn't moved away after fourth grade, she would've continued to make my life a living hell. But because I had enough of her teasing and taunting, I just stopped talking to her and that drove her nuts.

The more time went on, the meaner she got until it finally came down to one day she just didn't show up in school.

"Thank you, Bird Gods!" For the first time in my life, I didn't have to deal with her negativity.

But when my mother told me what really happened -- that she had been sent off to a special boarding school for troubled owlets because of her constant bullying problems -- I started feeling bad for Artie even though she never once felt bad for me.

Unfortunately, according to my mother's friend, Mrs. Whistlewich, a fine owl lady, the boarding school was a complete disaster, and Artie ended up running away from there before she even graduated sixth grade.

That summer, I had the same nightmare every night, in which Artie returned to Bent Tree High looking for me and finishing what she started.

Enough about her. Back to my goal of becoming famous.

First off, I will write a series of novels about my own life. I'm going to call it, The Class Treble: A Fable in Verse, because that's exactly what this story is all about.

It's going to be a "coming of age" tale with a moral message everyone can relate to. Not only that but the first book is going to be a poem because I've always found it much easier to express my deepest thoughts in verse.

In it, there will be a painting of myself as an owlet with enormous blue eyes and surrounded by a diverse group of friends in every shape, form, and size because I've always wanted to be depicted like that! There will be an array of birds, butterflies, and even flowers (why not) all bonding over my story which is about overcoming adversity.

I will dedicate this book to Artie because even though she was the bane of my existence for so long, I feel sorry for her in a way. She doesn't have any friends because everyone is scared of her.

Hopefully, she will read my novel and realize that all of her horrid ways are not what's important in life! What's important is being yourself and accepting other birds for who they are! Or something like that...

Maybe I'll give the book a happy ending where we finally get married and have a bunch of baby owlets together! Wouldn't that be awesome? :D

Okay, so now you know what my immediate plans are for my future...

Got to run. I'll write more tomorrow.

. . .

© by Irina Patterson, January 25, 2022

Thank you for reading, my other stories are here.

Love, Irina