E

Here I sit again.
Alone, and in silence. It's cold for I've left my dress off for the night,
but can't find sleep.
I feel so trapped.
Caged in by unseen metal bars, warping around me and sealing me in.
When I feel this way, I let the bird out to fly about.
If only I could do the same.
Fly, fly away somewhere. Anywhere, anywhere but here.

. . . . .

Little birdie has started to molt again.
We haven't any books on birds in the orphanage,
so I don't know if it's the season for it to do such but I still enjoy it.
Seeing him fly around and lose a feather or two as he does,
Only to have it flutter and twirl down to the floor, landing ever gently.
I like to imagine walking down the hall-ways covered in red feathers,
As if covered in a velvet rug and from above more fluttered down.
Red is such a beautiful colour.

. . . . .

I woke in the middle of the night. Nightmare.
My bird was taken and crushed. Blood streamed everywhere and stained the halls.
Feathers were everywhere, stuck to the wet floor and more fell from above me.
Nothing like my day dreams, far too grim. Quickly I checked the bird cage.
My blood shot cold, like ice. Empty. It was I still in the nightmare?
I took my sock off and counted my toes. 5. It wasn't a dream.

. . . . .

Almost an hour has passed, and I've finally calmed myself.
I sat there, lifting the cage door up and letting it drop down again... Over and over.
No matter what happens I can't show that face to anyone.
If this is the doing of Diana, that is exactly what she would want.
A few molted feathers laid within the cage.
Similar to blood left behind from a victim snatched away from their home's safety.
I can feel that my heart has been taken from it's safety as well, but I must remain cold.
At the first sign of weakness, that is when they will attack...

. . . . .

Jennifer walked in without any notice. Thoughtless girl.
It's no wonder why Diana says she's such a pain.
In her hand she held a crinkled piece of paper with visible red crayon stains.
Dropping the cage door up, releasing it to drop back down with a clank, I
Only took my glances when she was not aware.
"O-oh!" She said this with a pathetic and meek tone. Must have not expected
to find an aristocrat member within this room, despite what the sign had said.
That girl had an odd habit of trying hard on these monthly tasks.
I just don't understand it. Whats the use of playing this childish game?

I gave her a look, and then stood. For a moment I paused before taking hold of the cage's handle.
Quickly I then walked toward the door, she moved herself out of the way as I did.
Without a glance to her direction I spoke to her in a low voice.
"...The red bird. Have you found what you're looking for? Something dear to you?"
By the time I finished, I was at the door and leaving, back turned toward her.
Maybe she understood the clue I was giving her, but likely not.
May she think she is just the player this time, but eventually she'll be the victim.

. . . . .

As cold as ice, I reminded myself. Cold, solid ice that can't be broken so easily.
Turning toward the Aristocrat club's door, I could faintly see the sign from here.
The crude red marks writing out the fate of her little red bird.
Just the month before it was issued for Wendy's dearest pet to be sacrificed.
I narrowed my eyes as I thought. It will only continue to get worse.
Turning around I walked away, spotting Meg and Diana peeping from corners.
A joke to them, a cruel one but all for their amusement.
I won't give what they desire. I won't crack.

. . . . .

In the halls there are little red feathers left here and there,
as if plucked from the bird as they walked.
Bread crumbs to follow, a taunt leading you along an ugly path.
I had a hard time breathing seeing this along side the doodles on the walls, my
hand grasping tightly around the metal S atop of the bird cage.
Was I so foolish to believe in happiness? The chance to find forever land?
The others believed in far more foolish things. Mermaids and romance, and I'm
The one being punished for just believing in a place outside of here?
I hate them. They won't last. They will each get their own.

. . . . .

I decided to stop looking. I found a box but it's much too tedious.
I'll just watch from afar, and wait for that girl to take care of it.
She is much too eager for these things. When her time arrives, she will
be probably more devastated than Amanda. Much too naive to survive.
This stupid doodles. Various colours and numbers, all mind games to try
And make you seem stupid and below them, while they sit by and mock.
Meg, always being pretension. Diana, always being condescending.

. . . . .

Jennifer found the boxes.
With quite a bit of running around like a fool, she opened the boxes.
If rules are in place, she will follow them. You would think that girl
Saw those boxes as giant locked cases that you have to put in a code for.
They weren't. Just simple boxes with questions on them, something
I wouldn't waste time on if it didn't mean punishment later.
The girl did though, so now it was my time to step in.

. . . . .

Entering the room, she gasped and turned to me. I looked away, cold.
Shaking her head before she even spoke, she said
"It wasn't me, honest!"
I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling my stomach tighten with anger.
Of course it wasn't you. I'm not a fool.
Taking three slow steps toward her, I plucked the bird from my clothes by it's tail.
Setting the cage down, I lifted the door and tossed him in.

. . . . .

I don't care anymore, I'm not even sad right now. I'm just so tired of this.
I turned away and walked quickly. Up the stairs and to the attic.
Reaching the door I stood there for a short moment. Took a deep breath.
I could barely see them peeking around the corner.
I have nothing for you.
I sat the cage down and removed him, before flicking him into the box.
Jennifer followed me for some reason, Some weakling's concern.
Didn't change anything, I walked into the club room and Diana and Meg
followed. Before they entered, Diana had to make sure to give Jennifer
a look to intimidate her. Meg mirrored this action like a child to a parent.
I stood there like a statue, as they then entered and the door slammed shut.

It's not over.