Self Medication

Nick massaged his temples, grunting as his forehead throbbed against his eyes. It was as if his skull was being shrunk around his brain, crushing his delicate muscle ever so slowly yet ever so painfully. The pressure of it has trickled down away from his head even- creeping down his jaw and tickling his cheekbones. Either his head would explode outwards like a balloon- or he would just collapse and die right then.

But either way, it wasn't coming anytime soon.

And so Nick was forced to simply bear it in all its horrid glory. That and maybe get as drunk as he could. Thank God Amber had left to sleepover at a friend's house- and thank god he was alone. He didn't have to cook, didn't have to hear the thumping of Amber's footsteps across the house. Just lay in bed with a bottle of-

Nick glanced at the label.

Absinthe, and try not to vomit.

The curtains had all been drawn and the lights shut off- giving the sanctuary of night without the outside dedication. And as he lay there in his strange pained and drunken stupor- something tapped on the windowpane.

3 polite knocks against the glass, gentle as could be. But still enough to rattle like gunshots within Nick's swollen brain.

He groaned- mostly out of pain- as he stood. Stumbling his way over toward the curtain and pulling it open just a tad enough to see this visitor.

The inquisitive yet regal face of a barn owl stared back at him. A strange sight to see a barn owl out and about in broad daylight. But to Nick he just squinted at it, annoyed.

"Damn." He sighed.

The bird seemed to hear him, feathers ruffling as it then tapped on the glass pane again. Seemingly insistent.

"King of the goblins and you can't even open a window."

The comment was a mutter but the owl's eyes narrowed, its head tilting as if it was glaring.

Nick scoffed a bit, leaning down to now unlock the window.

"Yeah yeah, you big diva." He smiled a bit as his own joke.

He cringed in pain as he slid the window pane up, not even waiting for the owl to move before stepping away and laying back on his bed again.

The owl meanwhile took its time entering the room, seeming to get a look around before puffing up a bit and flapping its way onto Nick's bed. It squeaked curiously, head bobbing forward as it trotted forward along his bed- like some strange dinosaur peering at its prey. Nick reached his hand out, not lifting his throbbing head from the pillow as he began to pet the bird. The owl squeaked again, its little head pressing against his palm in the way a cat searches for affection.

"Come here." Nick muttered, taking his hand away and scooting to the side to give the owl a space.

The owl however, didn't move, just straightened itself and stared at him. There was a feeling of mischief at how it puffed itself up, however badly hidden by the way it began to preen its wing. Like it understood nothing.