There's so much noise, so many people talking at the same time.

The burning sensation I felt earlier from the coffee, is now a dull heat.

The last thing I remember was riding the car with Mr. Raynard, and him ordering Mr. Bernese to drop me at the hospital.

The hospital! I jolt upright, I'm sitting in a hospital bed surrounded by doctors, and patients.

Seeing how hectic this place is and, and what's written in a large font on the wall, I'm in the Emergency department. My burns were bandaged and covered, my bag was placed at the end of my bed, and judging by the clock on the wall it seems I'd been here for a couple of hours.

What the hell am I doing here? This is such a waste of a hospital bed.

I notice a nurse nearby, her eyes locked with mine but she quickly averts her eyes, pretending to busy herself with checking another patient's medical papers.

"Excuse me?" I called making her jump at being caught.

"I'd like to remove this," I said after getting her attention, pointing to the IV hooked to my other arm.

"Uh... okay, just let me call your doctor first," the nurse said then quickly scurried away.

Some time passes, and the nurse comes back with a doctor in tow.

"Hello sir, how are you feeling?" The doctor greeted me and asked getting right into it, I can't blame him, with how hectic the ER is right now, I'd not be wasting time on chitchat.

"I'm fine, can you remove the IV please, I'd like to leave," I explained.

He sighs, "are you sure about this? We would like to monitor your burns for infections," the doctor said.

"I'm sure," I said extending my hand so he could remove the IV needle.

After he removes it, I finish the discharge papers and leave.

Once out I head to the subway, the subway is practically the only transportation I use, unless I'm accompanying my employer in his car, I use trains because the card scanner doesn't discriminate against my hybrid animal.

I tried busses before, some drivers would refuse to let me get in, and others would simply drive off.

Taxis and car apps don't need an explanation, they see who it is, and they just don't have to think about it twice.

My destination was the office, I need to make up for the time I lost sleeping in the hospital.

And after a good twenty minutes on the train, I arrived at the office building around twenty past six.

Six o'clock is the time your workday ends, I'm not expecting a lot of people to be here, in my previous workplaces, some would even take their work home with them to avoid staying longer in the same space as I.

And just like I assumed, the last woman who was still there quickly grabs her bag and scurried away.

Coming around my cubicle, I notice a pile of folders on my desk, putting my bag on the chair, I sit down and sigh, again not something I wasn't expecting,

I mean I'm not mad at the fact that I have to actually do my job, but I'm kind of anxious about the content of these folders.

Still wanting to be optimistic, I take out my post-it note and my red pen, putting these aside in case I need them, I grab the first file and relax in my swiveling chair.

I had the lunch I made in the morning to have for dinner and the thermal mug with my coffee.

For the next three hours, I went through the folders one by one, criticizing every point or paragraph that was poorly written, some had grammar mistakes, or misspelled words, and some had outdated data, and copyrighted ideas.

Only a few made it through the punch.

Once done, I sort my stuff out and put everything back in its place, turning my computer and the lights off, I finally take my leave for the day.

Exiting the building, I feel the vibration in my pocket, which makes me pause and fetch my phone.

One new message from Paloma.

I stare at my phone for a couple of seconds before two more messages followed up.

- "Hey, how have you been?"
- "Heard you started a new job."
- "Do you want to meet up for dinner, and talk about your new job?"

My thumb hovers over the screen for a moment while I read the messages, then I proceeded to delete the chat history, and ignore her messages as I usually do.

Paloma is my sister, twin sister to be precise, we are not identical though, especially our hybrid animals, while mine is the symbol of ill health, misfortune, and death, hers is quite the opposite.

Hers is the symbol of peace, love, and hope.

Things I could never give to human-hybrids, and things no human-hybrid could ever give to me.

Things I could never fault her for having, but things I also could never stop myself from feeling envious of.

I don't have a relationship with my sister, mostly it's my fault, some of it is my lack of trying or communication, and some of it is that I don't want a relationship with her.

If a relationship with her means a relationship with my parents, then I don't want it.

My life is a lot quieter like this, I've got myself, and I've got my back.

I don't need anyone.

I put my phone away and take my walk to the subway station, during the ride home I think about my day so far.

Day one out of ninety. Positive outcomes of today: One, Batricia gave birth safely. Two,... Two...

My eyes wander to my reflection in the train's door glass window, my burnt hand is clutching the pipe so tightly, the pain is... I wish I could say unbearable, but I've had worse.

It doesn't make it better though, it doesn't make the pain less painful.

Day one out of ninety. Negative outcomes of today: plenty.

My phone vibrates again in my pocket, I pull it out with my uninjured hand.

One new message from Batricia.

- "How was your first day? I heard your hand got burnt, is your hand okay?"

The genuine concern in her message sends a warm feeling to my chest, something that rarely happens to me.

I sit down on one of the empty seats around me, freeing my burnt hand to reply to her message.

- "It's fine." I typed, and it was a general answer, my day was fine, and my hand is fine.

Seeing the typing message pop and disappear a couple of times, I decided to send her a second message to end her misery.

- "Congrats on the birth of your child, I hope you had a safe delivery." I sent, to which she quickly replied.

- "I did, thank you."
- "And thank you for the flower arrangement, they're lovely."

Did Mr. Raynard tell her I picked them? Huh, that's a first, usually, the human hybrids I've met, tend to take the credit for the things I got done correctly, after all, they don't expect an owl hybrid to do anything right.

- "Anyway, if you need a day off tomorrow, it would be completely understandable."
- "Have a good night, Puma."

It feels like Mr. Raynard is communicating to me through her, which kind of makes me feel disappointed, and the warmth I had felt earlier evaporated.

- "Noted, thank you."
- "Good night."

It's really easy for me to trust someone, rarely does it ever happen that someone is being kind to me out of the goodness of their heart.

But it's also easy for me to lose all the trust I've built in a person, I can't help but doubt every good, or nice thing they do to me.

What's their true motive, or intention behind it?

I mean Batricia didn't really have to text me to ask me about my hand, or to let me know about taking tomorrow off, she didn't have to take the time off her evening, on her day off, on the day she gave birth to her child.

She didn't have to, but she probably did it because Mr. Raynard asked her to.

Reaching my rundown apartment, I take off my shoes and put my bag away, placing my lunch box and thermal mug in the sink, I don't bother to turn the lights on, then I walk to my bedroom, and take my suit jacket off, I flop on the bed and close my eyes, sighing, I let my body sink in the comfort of my bed.

Allowing old nightmares to creep into my dreams again, nightmares I worked so hard to put behind me in the past.