I've always been skeptical about religion. I tend to live by my own morals, not someone else's. But that doesn't mean I don't believe in at least something after death. I always think that the existence of a god, demon, or angel, and perhaps even a ghost, is dependent on the person. If you believe it is real it will be. If you do not, it ceases to be as well. I've only had one experience with the death of someone close to me. It didn't change my beliefs entirely, but I wasn't completely against the idea of these things existing anymore. Ever since my dear friend Sylvia (name changed for privacy, of course) passed away, I've felt... a presence, of sorts. Not like a complete ghost, but it's as if she's still there with me. It's been four years since she died, but with the help of a little stuffed beanie baby owl, Sylvia has been by my side.

Mika. Mika was a raven. He had glossy but rumpled feathers that he never seemed to preen. I met him when I was fifteen years old in a humid day that never seemed to end.

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Coming back from school was honestly a drag, monotonous and completely boring. It had been a difficult day and it was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other. Until I heard a weirdly choked croaking sound. I thought about stopping, but then figured it was just my imagination. But the moment I stepped forward, I heard it again. The raspy croak came again. Out of sheer curiosity and hunched over and began exploring for the source of the sound. It came from a messy heap of--I had no idea what that was--in someone’s front yard. Cautiosly, I inched toward that ruffled bundle. The ruffled bundle raised its jet-black head... and croaked. A bird! What was a bird doing lying in someone’s yard? The raven cocked his head and struggled a bit, releasing another harsh croak. There was plastic, hard white plastic, entwining his neck, confining his wings, encircling his body. I squatted in front of him, wondering what to do.

His beady black eyes blazed with intelligence, and he seemed to be asking a question.

“Grawk,” he croaked, pleadingly. “Grawk?”

After a moment more of silent staring, I finally moved.

“Okay, Mr. Grawk. I’ll help you get out of this. Just promise not to bite me, okay?”

The raven fluttered his wings as much as he could in response, as if to say, “I promise.”

I decided to start with the feet, where I was least likely to injure him. Grawk--for I did not think of what else to call him--waited patiently for me to finish untangling him. When I completed the job, I expected him to shoot off into the sky like an arrow, but all he did was stretch out his wings and make short hopping motions, occasionally lifting off, but never reaching any altitude above my height. This peculiar way of motion continued until Grawk was out of sight. I sighed, feeling a strange pang in my chest. I didn’t want to stop on my way home, but now I wanted to stand still and...

It didn’t matter. I had to get home. Forget Grawk.

Thirteen Days Later

The back yard is a perfect place to get some alone time away from working, little brothers, nagging jobs, and relatively, the heat of the house. I sat in one of the chairs I have for this purpose. Hard, white... not plastic. But it made me think of Grawk all the same. I sighed, not wanting to think about him. To pass the time I had, I decided to read from one of my favourite manga series and eat some strawberries. I was completely absorbed in my book until...

“Grawk.”

I nearly fell out of my chair. The raven was perched on a railing supporting the deck cover. He ruffled his wings as if to say, “Remember me?”

“Grawk, is that you?”

He hopped off the railing and landed about two feet from my toes. Hopped, not flew. It was Grawk.

“Graaaaaaawk?”

″....fine. I’ll give you some strawberry.”

This I tossed, which he promptly gulped down.

“Grawk!”

“What do you want, Grawk? How did you know where I live?” I asked, tossing another bit of strawberry high into the air.

Grawk leaped up with surprising acrobatics for his seemingly crippled state and caught the strawberry in his beak. He reminded me of one of the characters in my manga, somehow, crippled in a way, but still amazingly mobile in more ways than one. With this in mind...

“Grawk,” I began.

He peered at me, probably anticipating more food.

I felt stupid. I was talking to a bird. However, I went on.

“Grawk, how would you like a new name? You’re a brave bird, and you seem quite smart too. How would you like to be Mika?”

He kept staring, eyes shining.

I went on dramatically. “Raven Mikaela, thou shalt be dubbed!”

Mikaela, or Mika, as I am sure he would rather be called, grawked once more. Either he agreed with his name, or he just wanted more strawberry. I will never know.

Present Day, Sunday the Fourteenth of July, 4:24 A.M.

I have... I have been thinking. For years, Mika has been visiting me at least weekly, for food or otherwise, and I have grown rather fond of him. As one who spends more time with books than humans, he had become a close friend and confident. I knew he would never spill my secrets, unless people suddenly understood the meaning of “Grawk!” However, since last month I have not seen him, or heard him, at all. One may say it is not unusual for a wild animal not to appear for a month. However, my Mika has faithfully come at least every week, save for an exception during a particularly unfriendly snow. Now in the fair weather of summer, it is truly strange to find him missing. I only hope that he is well and enjoying his food, hopping his strange little hop about the city. And if he is not... perhaps one day I will see him again, soaring on unbroken wings and never faltering on his journey.

“Together till the end?“Gideon asked. “You know the answer” Lucy stated. “We have no chance, I wouldn’t miss it for the world” I added with a grin, playing the arrows in my quiver. I looked at my two best friends; we had come so far from a boy failing to be a knight (Gideon), a runaway princess (Lucy), and a Blacksmith’s daughter (me). We now were leading a crew of sailors to explore the East, where dangers such as dragons, giant mysterious whirlpools, and sea serpents. Our journey had been smooth sailings until today; a storm with fierce winds had set in. Also, a warlock in odd robes appeared onboard warning us of a dragon heading our way, but we would not be deterred, that is what swore to do when took up this adventure. As we left the safe quarters of the office, a pit of dread settled in my stomach. A feeling that told me that this might be the last time I see the beautiful rosy sunset. Gideon held the door open as he, Lucy, and I walked out onto the deck.

Everyone stood still as Lucy opened up her mouth to speak, but before a single word came out, a monster large and scaly swooped down and picked her up. The men ran below deck like cowards. Gideon screamed as I loaded an arrow into my bow. The dragon had arrived. I wasted no time firing my arrow, but it was too late. My best friend, the one shared secrets and jokes with, the one who didn’t care about her station, was gone, dead. I held back a scream. I loaded another arrow, my anger, revenge, bitter and horrible, were the only things on my mind. Gideon ran in front of me as the dragon shot ice out its mouth straight towards me. My anger doubled, they both were dead, and I had to avenge them if it was the last thing I did. Little did I know it would be the last thing, I did. I pulled out the third arrow, a sudden calmness taking over, like the eye of a storm. I aimed and fired and hit my target, but with the last of its energy, it swiped me off the deck into the ocean. I tried to swim to the surface, but it was over. I floated downwards. I was dead.

When I woke up, I was in a comfortable bed, fit for royalty. The room was much like Lucy’s when she was a princess. I looked down to see, I was wearing my favorite nightgown. I rolled out of bed and softly walked towards a wardrobe near a door. Inside the wardrobe, was my favorite dress, a beautiful simple cotton gray dress with a few swirls here and there. I put it on and headed through the door. I came out into a corridor so I chose to walk left. When I came to the end of the hallway, I saw a throne room, golden glorious . There was Lucy, she was dressed like a queen, and she was knighting Gideon. They both turned there heads to see me standing there, clapping along with everyone else. Lucy walked over grabbed my hand and brought me the front, “and of course, my royal advisor, Lady Penny of the Underworld”. She held up my and hand and Gideon held up hers on the other side. Lucy whispered to us “Friends till the end the world ends”, Gideon responded, “Of Course”. I looked at both them with an impish grin “I don’t fancy it”. They both smiled and shook their heads and the three of us hugged while the people continued to cheer. We were friends forever bad times or good, sad or happy, dead or alive.