Blackbirds

Once upon a time, there was a girl. She had no friends, no family. Only her imagination kept her sane. She wore a crown of metal on her head and ruled her domain with a bleeding heart. In the morning, the birds would wake her with their calls, and in the night, she would lie half-awake, afraid of the creatures that lurked in the shadows.

            She was a puppet. She was told always what to do and what to think. She expressed her worries to her best friend as she lounged on her throne, thinking.

            Her best friend was a briar pony named Timothy. He wasn’t real, but the girl didn’t know if she herself was real, so she talked to him anyways.

            She told Timothy about how much she loved the fox named Amari, but she was expected to marry the blackbird named Jacques. Girls were supposed to love the sky, not the earth.

            But the girl loved both, and she wanted both. She spent more time with Amari, hidden behind the looming house on the hill. They would talk about life, about love, and about how endless the galaxy was. They would sit for hours, and when the sun finally set and the girl retreated from the shadows, she would watch Amari from the lit balcony and they would mouth words to each other until one of them fell asleep.

            However, the blackbird Jacques was different. When the girl was with him, he would joke and they would poke fun at each other. They were ruthless, sly and cunning. Emotionless. This is what the girl was used to, and she loved the battlefield.

            She told all this to Timothy as she sat on her throne, with her crown of metal. She had long kept her love for the fox, Amari, hidden from him, but he did not seem shocked.

            “You must choose one of them,” he told her. “You cannot have both.”

            I know, she told him, her eyes downcast and somber. She was slowly wilting, transfiguring.

            “Amari is a sin, a disgrace. But the fox is a beautiful thing.”

            I do not know if Amari loves me back, the girl said.

            “Jacques is a brilliant creature. He will make a suitable king for the kingdom, and the sky is where you belong.”

            I do not love Jacques’ callous ways, the girl said. He is so harsh, so uncaring.

            “A fox is a tricky creature, however,” Timothy pointed out. The girl lowered her smoldering dew drop eyes to the floor and spoke softly.

            No one can outsmart me.

Author's Note

Listen to Yann Tiersen's works while you read it. (Amelie)
Chopin will also work.

Hmm...