Note: trying SO hard to fix formatting. Help me!
Sarah had noticed. How could she not?
The bundle of white feathers huddled in the nook of the tree near her window. The dark eyes that would, on occasion, flash a pale yellow at night as her bedroom lights hit them just right. The near complete silent rustle of leaves as the ghostly form leapt from its designated branch.
For a while it had been coming and going, seemingly at random, without purpose and at any time of day. Sometimes, the nocturnal creature would not visit for days or even weeks. The large round eyes would peer into her room and every now and then, she would catch it dozing off. Its head slowly sinking down into the feathery body, eyelids drooping.
Admittedly, it was rather cute.
To anyone else, this pale bird would seem like any other absentminded local wildlife.
To Sarah, it was much more. Behind those large, dark eyes lay something much less innocent. Past those tanned feathers hid something wilder and in between all that fluff sheltered something much more… magical.
Many people, friends and family alike, had looked at Sarah with almost patronizing smiles. When she gushed on about a book she had read on Celtic traditions and mythos it didn't take very long for people's eyes to glaze over. When she doodled goblins, dwarves or vulpine knights, everyone gave her a mild "that's nice".
At times, people seemed so uninterested and unbelieving in her interests and fantasies, that she wondered if her adventure in the Labyrinth had happened at all. Maybe it was her overactive imagination running off with her. Maybe, she had just dreamt it all.
But then she would see the masked creature by her window again. Patiently grooming itself, or nibbling the bark at the tree. Like it was waiting. Biding its time for… something.
Or maybe, Sarah was just being silly again.
Maybe it was just an owl. Maybe it was just a creature with a nearby den that would just, by coincidence, perch on this particular tree, on this particular branch. Maybe she was growing senile before the age of thirty, talking by her window to this white apparition.
But then, what random predatory bird would just waste its peak hunting time decorating a local tree branch?
Yes, she had definitely noticed.
And the bird had noticed her. How could it not?
Sometimes she would just sit by her window, arms on the window sill, staring at it. In summertime, as the sun warmed her face and caressed her hair, she would fall asleep. And later wake up with a crick in her neck. Sometimes, the owl would still be there. But most times, by the time she woke up, it had gone.
In the beginning, she had attempted calling on her friends. The grumpy dwarf, the energetic fox and the large and fluffy beast. But ever since the night she had come back from her adventure, it didn't work. She would call, look in her mirror like she had done that night. But they never showed.
All the focus had gone to the owl. It seemed her last opportunity to experience that magical world.
She would place objects that had a link to her adventure in the Labyrinth on her window sill. The lipstick, her music box and even the little red book.
The owl did not seem interested nor impressed with the artifacts. Truth be told, the large beady eyes and small beak didn't really show much of anything. On occasion, the owl's head would tilt in response to something that she did. Sometimes, she even thought she could see it smile or frown.
But there's only so much a face full of feathers can tell you. Frankly, Sarah was getting a little frustrated about it.
Perhaps, it was time for action. Perhaps, it was time for resolution.
Either this was just a pale face in between the greenery, or it was something more. And if it was, she figured it was about time that she was let in on this strange secret.
Blinking a few times, she snapped out of her train of thought, lifting her head from her arm that had been resting on her desk. Pushing back the chair with her hands braced on the wooden edge, she got up.
With a strange feeling of adrenaline, she strode over to her window and threw it open. As she stuck her head out of it and as she took a gulp of air, mildly startling the owl near the house, suddenly all collected courage dropped like a ton of lead into her shoes.
Large and slightly bewildered eyes stared at her, wings slightly unfolded in cautious anticipation, it remained in place.
Feeling a little uncomfortable with her lips parted in intent, her mind drew a complete blank. What had she even planned on saying?
"I…"
"Sarah!"
She jumped, hearing a knock at her door. Spinning around she quickly closed the window, attempting to assume a casual pose. "Yeah, dad?"
Her father's head peeked in, holding a set of keys. "Let's go pick up your driver's license, kiddo. You can drive me somewhere nice to grab a bite to eat before we head back home."
"Sure dad, I'll be down in a minute."
As her father left, closing the door behind him, she let go of a breath she hadn't noticed she'd been holding. Turning back to the window, she looked out to the tree but found the owl gone. A strange mix of relief and disappointment washed over briefly. After that, she put on some shoes, grabbed her purse and headed downstairs.
There was no easy way to say it.
Sarah was a coward.
After that day, the bird had been gone for about two weeks again. At that time, she had kicked herself for not doing anything. Afraid she had missed her chance and her confrontation had scared off her feathery visitor. Every day, before and after work, she would check the tree, but every time it was empty.
Except for one time, when her neighbor's fat cat had been sitting there. She didn't like that cat. Sarah was sure if it was possible, the grumpy looking thing would have given her the middle finger every single time it saw her.
She just hoped that this feline wasn't going to deter the owl from visiting again.
After those two weeks, she still hadn't seen the owl. But, one day there was a white feather stuck in between her window sill. The slight tan coloration with golden specks, couldn't be anything else. Sarah knew that the bird had been there again. Whether the feather had been left there intentionally, or if it was just another thing to chalk up to coincidence, she didn't know.
Another month passed, and Sarah was growing anxious. After the feather, there had been no sign of her elegant friend.
Yes… a friend. Possibly pathetic, but now that the owl had gone, she had started to miss him.
Time was ticking, as Sarah had been preparing to move out of her childhood home and out of town. She had been offered a job about a three and a half hour drive away from home. Not as the actress she had dreamed of as a child, but as a designer. More specifically, an illustrator, for a children's book series.
It was a job Sarah was satisfied with. It was largely independent, and her employer had put a lot of trust in her to deliver. But the frequent trips to the office - at least three times per week - left her tired and severely lacking in further social contact. Not to mention that the long drives were doing a fine job of sucking every bit of inspiration out of her.
So it was time to move. A new chapter in her life that both left her excited but also frightened. The few friends Sarah had gained in her life would remain here or move away as well, some as far as Europe. Her family wouldn't be exactly close either. She had an aunt living not too far from her new place, but hadn't been in contact for a few years now.
But before she left, she had to see the owl again. She needed to know if there was anything more to all this. When she moved, she knew she would never see it again.
It had been a long day.
Sarah was stressed.
Tearing the large hair clip out of her hair, her dark tresses tumbled down onto her shoulders. The heavy shoulder bag was flung onto the floor, a few papers slipping out onto the floor. She didn't even bother to turn on the lights. She kicked off her shoes, put down her purse on her desk and did the cursory glance past the tree outside her window. It was already dark outside, but the street lamps provided her with enough light.
She didn't see it.
One more week and she'd move out. It wasn't going to happen. She would leave and probably often wonder if the bird had ever visited again.
Stupid bird. It hadn't been here for more than two months now. It had never been gone for this long. Certainly it wouldn't have been completely deterred from that one time she had approached it?
Sarah collapsed on her bed, looking at her alarm clock. It was nearly 11 at night. The house was quiet and dark. With a deep sigh she took a second to enjoy the silence and rest her eyes. Feeling herself already sinking into a slumber she scrambled up and got off the bed. With an unflattering yawn she took off her blazer and used her last bit of energy to head to the bathroom and brush her teeth.
That is, before she heard a shrill screech outside, piercing the silence with a gastly cry.
Her heart jumped and adrenaline prickled in her stomach. Nearly tripping over her shoes she ran to the window and looked out.
There it was.
The ghostly visitor, with its back to the window.
The white shape turned its head, large black eyes staring at her. It must have been her current exhaustion, but just seeing this little guy sitting in the tree made her so intensely happy that tears started brimming in her eyes.
It was now or never, and never wasn't an option.
Opening the window, she barely even noticed the cold air streaming past her arms. Her brimming tears made the streetlights twinkle in her peripheral vision.
Despite the adrenaline, her mind was too tired to coherently take steps. Without fully realizing she was talking at all, the words came involuntarily.
"I thought you'd never visit me again. I was worried sick! How could you just leave me like that? You coward!"
Had anyone caught her yelling out to the empty street so late in the evening, they surely would have thought her to be mad.
The owl tilted its head curiously but otherwise remained motionless.
Sarah almost felt drunk and slowly but surely, she was realizing she was making a right fool of herself. But in the heat of the moment, she didn't care. "You're him, aren't you?" Silence. "You must be him! No stupid ass bird would be hanging out by my room like this, for months on end." The owl blinked. "Talk to me! I have a right to know." Sarah's heart leapt as the bird unfolded its wings, looking away from her. It was going to leave. "Don't you dare fly away, you overgrown chicken. Or this will be the last time you ever see me."
The bird halted, its head turning nearly fully backwards to look at her.
"Face me like the fucking man you are, Jareth!" Sarah slapped her hand over her mouth. Startled at the volume of her voice and her verbal abuse.
"Sarah?" A sleepy voice meekly mumbled from her door. "Are you on the phone? Can you please keep it down a bit? We're trying to sleep."
Sarah winced and quickly tiptoed to her door, opening it a crack to see her dad standing there in his pajamas, rubbing his face. "I'm so sorry dad, I'll be more quiet. Sorry if I woke you guys up."
"Don't go to bed angry, princess."
"I won't, dad. Sorry again. Goodnight."
"Night." Her dad shuffled back to the master bedroom, yawning once.
Quietly, Sarah closed the door and let out a breath. Rubbing her brow, she turned back to her room. Walking quietly to her open window, she somewhat dreaded seeing the bird again after what she'd yelled. Looking outside again, her stomach dropped.
The branch was empty.
The owl was gone.
It was her fault. She shouldn't have lost her temper. She shouldn't have taken it out on him. Quietly, she closed the windows and rested her forehead on the cool glass. Lightly thudding her forehead against it once in silent self-reprimanding, she turned back to the room.
"Well, well, well…"
Sarah jumped so harshly that she quickly covered her mouth to suppress a scream. Bracing herself back against the window she spotted a large black silhouette standing near her door.
"We meet again."