The Owls Who Watch

Chapter 11 - Insider Information

Kevin awoke at 6am. He had gone straight to bed once he returned home, sleeping for the remainder of the day, and through the night as well, ignoring a cardboard box that Daniels had left in the corridor when he dropped Kevin off. His dreams weren't as vivid or memorable, but the same sensation of comfort lingered once more, even after he finally rose from his bed and opened his bedroom window. At several moments throughout the morning, he thought he could see specks of green light throughout his bedroom, reminiscent of the dream Daniels had woken him up from yesterday morning.
The fresh air was energizing. Kevin left his bedroom and picked up the cardboard box, placing it on the desk by the living room window. Inside were most of his old clothes, some cutlery, shampoo, canned beans, two plastic cups, two plates, a bowl, and a key for his front door. I can finally leave? Even if they don't let me, perhaps I can get away with it.

Feeling energized, Kevin put away his clothes in his chest of drawers in the bedroom and placed the utensils in a kitchen cupboard. Most of the cupboards were empty except one. Inside was a small lemon cake in Supersaver packaging. It was hunger at first sight. Kevin realised he hadn't eaten for days. He retrieved a wooden chair from the living room and placed it by the kitchen window, then placed the lemon cake on one of his plates, retrieved a knife, opened the window, and sat by it.

Outside the window, grass descended downhill until a path blocked the spread of grass and weeds. The path extended from the flats on Kevin's right, and twisted out of sight far to the left, submerged by trees on either side of it. On the left side, there were no flats. Kevin's apartment complex seemed to be on the edge of town, He sat by the window, savouring the fresh, smogless air and ate some of the lemon cake while he watched the swaying of trees listened to the singing birds and cicadas. Three patrollers atop horses strolled past, heading into the forest to the left. All three stared at Kevin unblinkingly. He tried his best not to flinch, yet closed the curtains and retreated from his kitchen as to not attain an impractical reputation. I'll play the troubled, miserable youth, and maybe they'll leave me alone. He wondered where the path may lead to, and by extent, how he could escape from the village. But where would he go once he escaped? Olga was right, it is a cold and cruel world out there, and there wasn't enough basis to antagonise the village in its entirety. Perhaps Olga and her patronising demeanour were onto something. Perhaps he was mad.

Kevin spent the majority of the day laying in bed, tinkering with his new phone, and drawing at his desk. When his clock neared 8pm, he wondered whether he should meet Dean or not. He had found his address easy enough, and it was only a short walk through cramped paths which interlinked the sporadic composition of the grey apartment complexes. He spent the next hour debating on what he should do, remembering the seeming prevention of meeting up with others. I have my own keys, if I'm interrogated, I'll say I was out a stroll to get some air. Then blame them for not giving me my inhaler. Kevin donned a black hoody, left his phone on charge, and left his apartment.

Kevin made sure to close his door quietly, not to alert the neighbours or any detection technology. The cars in the field at the very end of the path were gone. As Kevin walked into the wide path, he noticed a middle-aged woman walking into an apartment after throwing a cigarette onto the ground, several feet below her. He scoffed.

Deciding to avoid any potential employees, he followed the path outside of his window and into the sporadic paths littered with grey flats to the right. All of the paths and apartments looked the same. Cheap, grey squares with slanted roofs, tightly packed and divided only by narrow paths or open staircases. Through the few open windows, loud shouting, screaming, or snoring could be heard now and then. Some people were at their window smoking, many of which stared at Kevin as he walked through the dimly lit paths. Dean's house wasn't far from his, and the directions seemed somewhat easy. Kevin's late-night strolls back when he lived with his father and wicked stepmother made him something of an expert in interpreting directions.