A pure white room.
White walls, a white floor, a white ceiling, white furniture...and in the center of the room, a large bird cage, filled with white cushions.
Inside the cage sat a girl. A pale girl wearing a plain white dress. The hair that she had swept over one shoulder was a light blonde, and her eyes, which seemed to hold the whole world within them, were the color of the sky. She looked so natural there, as if she belonged, and despite the fact that she was chained inside a cage, she seemed content.
Well, it's not like she was alone in that room. There was a man who often visited her there. A man with messy hair and deep blue eyes, a man who always looked somewhat sad and tired.
He would lay on the couch with an arm resting over his eyes and she would sit and watch him in silence. And then, after a while, he'd let out a light sigh, signaling that he couldn't sleep. He'd look toward the cage, and, in a soft voice, he would ask the girl to sing him a song or to tell him a story.
And so she would.
She would close those eyes that seemed to see everything, clasp her hands together, and let the room be filled with the soothing sound of her voice. And the man would close his eyes and let her voice wash over him with a soft smile on his face.
Otherwise, her eyes would light up and she would begin to weave together a fantastic tale. The girl told stories of all kinds, and she never told the same one twice. Sometimes she told short stories that were over in less than an hour, and other times she told long ones that took days to tell. No matter what kind of story she told, though, he would always listen just as intently, always hanging onto her every word, occasionally throwing in his opinion in a soft voice.
And sometimes, on those days when he looked particularly sad, he would stride over to her cage and grasp one of the bars in his hand, staring at her silently. She would move closer, and then she would reach out and embrace him. She would rest her chin on top of his head, and hum quietly with a small smile on her face. He would close his eyes, and they would stay like that for a while, his body gradually relaxing, until he felt that he no longer needed her comfort.
And on those days when he never showed up, she would be all alone. But she didn't mind. Even if he was the one who had locked her in this cage, even if he didn't let her leave, even if he didn't let anyone else visit her, that was fine. As long as he continued to visit her, and they could continue their routine, it was alright.
No matter how strange it was, she truly felt that way.
And so, one day she began telling him her longest story yet, taking her nearly a week to finish. He seemed to like this story more than the others, listening more intently than usual, watching her spin this tale, and he was always disappointed when she had finished for the day.
Finally, many days later, she finished, feeling quite proud of herself. A heavy silence filled the room and neither of them talked for a long time. Eventually, the man spoke up, asking if that was really the end. She said yes, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion at his expression. He was disappointed, that much was obvious. It wasn't the first time he'd been disappointed at the ending to one of her stories. Usually he got over it when it was time for the next one. But this time he didn't just look disappointed. He looked almost...angry?
He stood up and approached the cage, staring into her eyes silently. He looked like he was searching for something, but she didn't know what. As they continued to stare at each other, his expression grew desperate, and yet she still didn't know what it was that he was looking for. Suddenly he heaved a sigh, sounding more tired than ever, and then he turned and walked over to the door. As he placed his hand on the doorknob, he turned his head in her direction and said a single word-
Goodbye.
And then he was gone.
And she was confused.
He didn't come back the next day.
Or the day after that.
Or the day after that.
The girl curled up in her cage and sang quietly to herself, waiting for his return.
But he never came back.