Oo0oO

How could the birds stand it? How could they perch so gaily on the swaying trees -their delicate limbs like toothpicks as they grasp the open arms of the elm- and stand to whistle their same sweet serenade day in and day out? Surely the birds must eventually get tired of their endless melody, their tuneless drone that tails them like a limp shadow. She would think that it would drive one mad, to hear the same sound every day for the rest their life, the wretched song being their only companion through the harsh, snowy winters and blazing summer evenings. Nests, mates, offspring; they would all come and go throughout the lifetime of the bird, just as the sun rises and falls every day without fail. Yet every morning they would be greeted by the same chittery voice, the steady maiden that dances so lightly through the breeze, and carries her long train on the rising gales.

She could imagine what the bird must feel like, waking daily to the golden rays of sun to shout their melody to the world. Yet her song, her personal torture, was not one that could be hummed, or shared with others in any sort of way. No, her song was hers alone to sing, given to her the very moment she touched down on this Earth. Like the bird, she was given no say in choosing, it was simply bestowed upon her.

She was born to die.

Now, shut in the silence of her own mind, she laughed long and hard. It was by no means a cheery thing, however, for her mirth was riddled with bouts of coughing and gasping. But still, the sound of it delighted her. Her curse seemed so simple, so easy compared to that which plagued some of the other Sohmas. She would bear the heart of the zodiac curse -without turning into an animal herself, mind you- and die young. In return for her sacrifice then, she would be the head of the Sohma family. Her word would be absolute, her commands unquestionable.

But even that was an understatement of the truth. Their family's curse, her curse, was so much more horrible than anyone could imagine.

At first glance, the Sohma's curse might seem almost humorous, turning into a cute little animal that corresponds with a zodiac year. Like one of those television shows for children where the people had superpowers, and it was because of their powers that the heroes were adored and loved.

But their curse was by no means a blessing. Those bearing the curse could never be embraced by another, never be held by the person they love. So long as the curse held strong, the option of love didn't exist for them. For how could someone love them, this… thing that was not completely human or animal, but some horrifying mix of the two?

It was for this reason that memories were so often erased, so no one would have to sleep with the horrible truth that their friend was a living and breathing monster. Of course, many times they had tried to make it work, the outsiders always claiming that they accepted the curse and did not judge the Sohmas for it. But in the end, they were all driven to insanity, becoming hollow shells of their past selves and turning into something unrecognizable.

So many times she had warned them, and so many times it would happen again. Why couldn't they see?

She felt something shatter against her clenched fist, splintering into pieces beneath the pale iron of her skin. Yet she heard nothing, felt nothing, but the warm fluid as it snaked down her arm, carving intricate patterns on her exposed skin. Anger and frustration rose in waves to meet her, and she was nearly shaking with the effort it took to hold it in. Why couldn't they see? She was only trying to protect them from the inevitable, and yet still they insisted on bringing in outsiders, convincing themselves that they could make it work this time.

And then, at the center of it all was her. She alone stood at the heart of the Sohma family curse, she was their god. She had been born to die, born to be weakened by constant sickness and pain, born to have the entirety of the Sohma family placed on her shoulders. To some, it would seem she got off much fairer than the others who bore the zodiac curse, given that she was the head of the Sohma family.

Her fist tightened.

But she didn't want it. She had never asked to take the core of the curse, to have to sacrifice her own life so that the rest of the Sohmas may live freely. She did not care to have control over the Sohmas, it was not worth the price. She did not care if she was being selfish, but they were not worth it. They were not worth living like this. You could not call this life, forced into the isolation of your own room for days at a time, feeling the void of loneliness pull you into its clutches.

She knew that if she truly desired, she could leave this place, try to run and hide. She could do anything she wanted. But no matter how far she ran, no matter how much she tried to deny the truth, she knew that she could not escape her part in the zodiac curse.

That is what the others did not know. They still lusted for that freedom, for a way out. They searched so desperately for something, or someone, to break their curse. They held on to the dim hope that if they kept searching, they would eventually find someone who could change the curse that had haunted their family for generations. It was a blind and hopeless dream, but it was a dream, it was their light in the darkness of the storm. They were afraid that letting go of it would send them over the edge.

But she knew this was not true, that this fabled outsider did not exist. If such a person did exist, they would have been found long ago, not now.

They were chasing after a dream. And until they let go of that dream, that hope for a normal life, she would have remind them of who they were, of what they were. It did not matter that they feared her; she could live with their fear.

Suddenly, a small, pale bird fluttered in her open window, beating its short wings rapidly and coming to perch ever so lightly on her outstretched leg. She glanced at the bird out of the corner of her eye, watching as the creature thoughtlessly pecked at her shin. It was said that when one was deep in the deepest state of meditation, a bird may very well perch on your head, thinking you are an inanimate object rather than a human being. And now, the bird seemed to think just that of her, staring her in the eyes and tilting its feathery head to the side as if to ask "Are you really alive?"

No, she replied to its silent question, watching it silently lift off and return to whence it came. No I am not.

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A/N: Please review and tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: This story's summary is a quote from Rise Against's song "Black Masks and Gasoline".