The light of morning filtered through the bars of my prison, yet I found no mental strength to sing my songs. What is the use now, anyways? No one can hear my delightful voice when I sit here, waiting for my release. I've lost count of the days since my capture, but the memory of lush, green trees and the beautiful flowers is still fresh on my mind. I missed the delicious fruits and seeds I would indulge upon, but here all I was fed was stale bread and dried… cheap knockoff of a sunflower seed? I don't know what it really is, but it is a disgusting excuse for a meal. No matter how hungry I was, I still fought the urge to put my mouth to something so vile. I am too good for any of this nonsense.
As my eyes adjusted to the sun's glare, I hopped off of my seat and moved towards the large bowl of water that is left for me every early morning. I stared down at my own faint reflection, watching as my dark, tired eyes scanned over my ruffled body. It was unnecessary for me to be here, yet I couldn't get away. I bent down and sipped the water below me, closing my eyes and swallowing my pride for accepting something so unsuitable for one like me. I began to reminisce, thinking of my life outside this forsaken cage. I remembered the delicious fruits I would snack on; in the woods I called my home.
I turned my head, to see if my captors would come back to bask in my magnificence, but the only being in this dark room is me. I deemed this moment worthy of my memories. Delving into the depths of my mind, I found myself imagining the light green leaves I'd seen many large, brown animals with horns sticking out of its head would feast upon. Of course, I would never stoop to that kind of level, but only because I could be as tall as I wanted to be. The sky was the limit for me, not the ceiling of a cage.
It was ironic, though, how someone like me would be the kind to be captured. I was fast, and I can cover long distances pretty well, but apparently I was careless or something. That would explain a lot of things, but I was too smart to ask questions. Why would they take me, I feel as though they were keeping me here for some sort of entertainment, but what fun is it to watch me sleeping in a cell praying to be set free. I wish I could go back to my brother and my home made of twigs and sticks. I try to forget but, every now and then my mind seems to wander back to that day.
I woke up even before the sun. Early bird gets the worm, I guess. I scrounged up some berries and started to eat, but left about half for my brother. I decided to get some exercise - I pretended as though I was a hawk and flew as fast as I could, dodging trees like traffic cones. No one could catch me! I was zipping through the brightly colored forest, feeling the wind against my face. Then, before I knew it, everything went black. I always wondered if I ran into something, or if I just fell asleep. That wasn't like me, though. I felt the weaving of the burlap sack every where. I was beaten until I blacked out. I awoke in horror as I was let out of the bag only to be pushed into a cell barely big enough to sleep. They stared at me and smiled; I was terrified, was I a slave, a prisoner, were they going to kill me, what did I do to deserve this? They had clipped my wings; I could fly no more.