Short Story - "Feather or Bone"

Sharing my writing has always been scary for me. And yet, having people read the words that I write makes me inexplicably happy. It will forever be the paradox of a writer. 

I entered this story into One Year Adventure Novel’s 18+ Short Story Contest this past spring and it received 3rd place! Although it is a little nerve-wracking to send my words into the unknown, I am very excited to have you read this short story I crafted. 

So without further ado, here is “Feather or Bone”. Enjoy reading!

Feather or Bone 

K.J. Haakenson 

There comes a time in every woman’s life when she has to make a choice.   

Dried leaves and gravel crunch under my boots. The call of crows, the humming of summer’s lingering cicadas, and Eden’s walking stick thumping on the road keep me company. I shift my satchel to sit more comfortably on my hip and loosen the straps on my mask so that I can pull the leather beak away from my face. The early evening air cools my face and tickles my neck with my own wheat colored braids. 

“Briar,” Eden chastises, her voice muffled. 

I don’t even bother to glance at her. I know she has that haven’t I told you before look on her face under her own mask. 

The regulated face protection didn’t scare me like it did some of the other girls. I never got the nightmares they did. But I hated not being able to clearly see the eyes of my friends or breathe the fresh air directly into my lungs. 

“I know, I know. I’ll put it back on later.” I push renegade hairs away from my brow and stick my tongue out at her. “Maybe.” 

 Eden laughs, shaking her head at me. “I’m surprised you actually made it this far.” 

I grin, running my fingers absentmindedly over the copper rivets on the mask. “Not without testing the sisters’ patience.” But my smile fades away when we round a bend and the tip of a crumbling stone building peaks out from between the barren trees below. Our journey is ending too soon. I pull the bird mask by its beak from around my neck and tie it to my satchel. “I need one last rebellion. Besides, I can’t see through these blasted eye holes anyway.” I don’t add that I want to see this one last sunset with my best friend. 

Eden sighs but I know she’s not mad at me because she switches her walking stick to her other hand and links her arm with mine. “Do you feel ready?” 

I snort. “Of course not. Do any of the sisters really feel ready when it’s their turn?” 

She’s quiet for a moment. “No, I guess not.” But then she smiles – or at least her dark eyes crinkle beneath the glass eye holes of the mask. “I think we’re ready. I mean, all we have to do is make one more decision. And then…” She throws her head and arms back, staring up at the sky. “We can be free!” 

At the word free, I bite my lip and focus on the sun saying goodbye to the day and not my nerves hatching baby birds in my stomach.  

Layered hues of orange and gold splay across our path. I wish I could freeze this moment and soak in the sun’s rays warming my face like an upturned sunflower.  But I know all too soon the stars will poke through the dark canvas of night and and the moon will greet us with her luminescent rays until the sun decides to rise again.  

And I don’t know if we will be there to see it.  

I kick a rock down the path in front of me. 

Our kind cannot live on earth very long.  

The air we breathe poisons our lungs, the crops we grow eat away at us, the water we drink drowns us, until the ground we stand on swallows us up. We become the dirt we were born from. 

Mortal men live day to day with no fear of death. This is all they have ever known.  

But we women of the woods don’t have that luxury. Either we choose an immortal life as a beast of the air, knowing nothing of pain and joy for eternity, or we continue on as mortal women, doomed by the earth but blessed with the bounty and suffering that comes with a short human life. 

I kick the rock again and follow in its path. 

A gust of wind rattles the trees, whirling dead leaves and dirt around our legs. I inhale the scent of dried spices and pine trees, holding close the fleeting warmth of sunlight. 

Eden pulls down her own mask and takes a deep breath as well, letting the sun warm her olive face and her ebony hair free in the breeze. 

I grin. “Told you it’s better this way.” 

She rolls her eyes and pokes her walking stick at me but misses a step, stumbling.  

I gasp, catching her before her face can smash into the road. “You alright?”  

Eden nods, suddenly out of breath, her smiles gone. “Yeah, I’m okay.” She leans into me. “That blasted bad leg.” 

I glance around. “Do you need to sit down for a moment?” 

Chewing on her lip, she glances down the road. “I guess, but only for a minute.” 

She tightens her grip on my arm, hobbling beside me as I lead her off the path and down a small hill that slopes towards a trickling creek. The sun sparkles gold on the water and the trees provide a little shelter from the early autumn winds.  

We settle side by side on a large boulder, its warm surface dispelling the chills that have found their way into my bones. 

I glance over at my friend. In this golden light, Eden’s dark eyes are more amber than black. 

 I’m going to miss this.  

A crow caws above us, its cries sending shivers down my arms but Eden looks unaffected. Her eyes are closed and her face is upturned, soaking in the sunlight.  

I lay back on the rock, arms propping up my head.  

“Do you – ” I start but my voice tapers off. 

Eden turns. “Hmm?” 

“Do you ever wonder if we’re making the right choice?” 

She leans back with me and stares up at the sky. She waits so long to speak, I am afraid she didn’t hear me. “Sometimes… sometimes I wonder how I would live if I knew I only had few years left. Growing up with this choice ahead of me, I’ve always known what the beginning of the end would look like. What it would feel to finally be in that wide blue sky, flying forever into the horizon, no longer shackled to this stupid leg. I’ve always known I would choose the feather. But what if – ” 

“What if you chose the bone,” I finish quietly for her. 

“Yeah. The bone.” 

I turn on my side so that I’m facing Eden. “Does that scare you?” 

She nods, fingering her locket, the setting sun glinting off its golden surface. “Every moment could be your last. I would be too afraid to live fully.” She finally meets my eyes. “How about you?” 

The voice coming out of my mouth sounds so far away, I almost don’t recognize it. “It’s the deep never ending blue that scares me.” 

Her fingers find mine, reassuringly squeezing my hand. 

I must have dozed off for a moment because Eden is sitting up. She ties her long mask back on. “The sister’s will kill us if we’re late.” 

I snort, still staring up at the sky. “Too bad we’re not immortal yet.” 

 She tugs on one of my braids. “Come on, Briar. Let’s go.” 

I hop off our perch and instead of heading back up to the road, I walk over to the creek where something shiny caught my eye. Kneeling down by the rushing water, I pick up a stone. Washed bronze by the clear stream, the rock is perfectly smooth and fits in the palm of my hand.  

“You’re procrastinating,” Eden calls behind me.  

I chuckle, wiping my hands on my wool skirt and tucking the rock in my satchel. “I know.” 

Then it’s a pinch of moss from the ground, a scrap of ribbon tangled in a tree branch, a perfectly dried leaf caught in my hair, and the withered wildflowers by the graves. Little pieces of this world in the palm of my hand. 

By the time we reach the crumbling fieldstone building, the sun has disappeared taking its golden warmth with it. I shiver in the cool moonlight and cinch my satchel of treasure tighter to myself.  

“The sisters won’t let you take those beyond, Briar.” Eden’s words are chiding but her voice is soft. 

I smile and whisper “I know,” before stepping into the cold darkness. 

The scratch and hiss of the match makes me flinch. Sister Shiloh lights the tall candles on the table, burning a glow into the fading twilight.  

There must be at least thirty girls standing around the table. Ever since we could listen to the stories told by our sisters, we’ve all been waiting patiently for this day. 

I wonder how they will all choose to live. 

Eden pulls down her mask and slips her shaking hand into mine as we fall into the circle. I steal a glance in her direction. Her head is held high, her shoulders back. Her mind is made up. Although she fears the unknown, she does not fear her choice. 

She is stronger than I am. 

Sister Shiloh unwraps a cloth, letting the candlelight touch the items now bared to the world. 

And so is the choice set before us: the feather or the bone. 

The ceremony follows exactly how we were told. 

Sister Shiloh announces a name.  

The girl steps up.  

Sister Shiloh asks “How will you live?” 

The girl then chooses her future. Her fate. 

Those who choose the feather disappear, the number of bird songs outside increasing. 

Those who choose the bone leave with the clothes on their back and start the trek to the local village to start a new – but short – life. 

No one has chosen the bone yet this year. 

Every time a girl makes her choice and joins the flock, Eden takes a deep breath as if to steel her nerves. 

I can’t even breathe.  

“Eden Wildes.” 

My heart skips a beat at the sound of my best friend’s name. I force myself to watch her hobble up to the table, her fingers hovering over the items.  

But then Eden is facing me with tears threatening to spill over. She envelops me in a tight hug, the smell of sunshine and lilacs woven into her sweater. The shuffling of shoes and crackle of candles fade away as I close my eyes and breathe it in, my arms aching to hug her forever.  

Eden steps back too soon, her eyes full of tears, her smile bittersweet. 

“Farewell, Briar.”  

Tears stream down my cheeks and I raise shaking hands to her face, bringing our foreheads together. “Goodbye, Eden.” 

She slips something cold into my palm and squeezes my hand. Without breaking her gaze, she steps back to the table and lets her fingers brush the feather. 

I blink and Eden is gone. 

My heart hurts so much I can hardly breathe.  

A light breeze stirs through the room and out through the window. A crow sits on the window sill, the moon illuminating its ebony feathers, the stars reflecting in its eyes.  

It winks at me and flies away into the night. 

I go to wipe my tears but something gold catches my eye. I unfold my hand.  

Eden’s locket. 

“Briar Faulkner.” 

My head snaps up. 

I am the last one to make my choice. To choose my fate. 

Clasping the locket around my neck, I let my last tears slip down my face and I step forward to the table.  

To the feather and to the bone. 

Sister Shiloh’s question echoes around me and fills my heart. 

“How will you live?”