The Bird

The symbol for humanity is only free for them. If they can learn to care she may also, perhaps, be free.

The flashes sting. They always sting. I never understood why they used those metal boxes that flashed. Were they trying to hurt me? My ears were numb from the shrieking kids running around and around my cage. “Look at her mommy!” “Why does she look like that? Is there something wrong with her?” Always the same questions. Always. I take a deep breath and prepare to stand. They wanted a show and I guess I was obligated to give them one. I stand and turn my back to the staring masses so that they may see my curse. The only light in the room came from a dim bulb that hung above me. It was just enough for them to see their entertainment. I shake and take deep breaths so as not to cry when they gasp in horror at my bare winged back. I was always kept bare from the waist up. My only privacy came from the thin, nude underwear they were generous enough to allow me. I spread my soft, black wings open. They are just a foot away from either side of my cage. When I can hear the shock of the people behind me die down I slowly turn around. I look at them as they open their eyes and mouths wide in a combination of disgust and fascination. My blood red birthmark cuts like scars down my mostly naked body. They crisscross over my face, past my bare breasts and torso, under my underwear, and back out to cover my legs and feet. 

“Look how big it’s gotten!” I can hear a man in the crowd exclaim to the people next to him. He must have been here before. Every second, of every hour, of every day my birthmark grew. It gradually grew in more and more lines all over my body. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes. I didn't want to see the pity they had for me. The cold air in the room stung my fresher cuts. I couldn't decide if the physical or mental pain was more excruciating.

The cage rattled and I jumped. My wings swung around me as I scrambled towards the ground to the back of the bars. People sometimes found pleasure in throwing things at me. The older kids especially liked to sneak in sharp rocks to throw and laugh when I coward. When nothing hit against my wings I peeked out, my eyes wide in fear. One of the little girls had grabbed a hold of the cage, which had been the cause of the rattling. I stare into her curious eyes.

“Come here honey, you’re scaring her.” One of the mothers tries to beckon her daughter to her. I now notice that my being startled had also startled my observers. They had backed themselves up against the wall opposite my cage. Even though most of the room was dark I could still barely make out the nervous tension they all had. 

“Hi.” I look back at the little girl who bravely continued to stand at the bars. “Come here.” She begged me over and I swallowed hard. No one had ever spoken to me in such a kind voice.  I slowly got up and folded my wings behind me. “You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t hurt you.” The sound of the little girl’s voice was calming. I cautiously walk towards her. She is small, so I must get down on my knees to look in her eyes. 

“My name’s Lily. What’s yours?”

I delay my answer. Locked up for so long I had almost forgotten.

“Vita.”

“Hi Vita. Can I see your arm?” She puts her arm slightly into the cage to grab my hand.

“Oh my god!” The people in the back scream in fear. Lily’s mother begins to cry and tries to run to her daughter. “No don’t! That thing might try hurt you.” Some of the others grab onto her and pull her back. I allow Lily to grab onto me. She turns my wrist to face upwards. One of the cuts is slowly seeping into my hand.

“Why does it grow?” She places a finger on the scar and it stops moving. 

“It’s the pain of the world. As long as it grows on me, it will not grow in you.” She lets go of my hand.

“You absorb our pain? You’re the reason people don’t cry anymore? Why we don’t hurt anymore?” I nod. “Does it hurt you?” I nod again. She gently places her hand on my cheek and I nuzzle my face into its warmth. I can feel a tear run down my face and I choke back the urge to cry. She wears a smile on her face, but keeps saddened eyes.

“Thank you for protecting us and for loving us.” She lets go of me and pulls her hand back through the bars. She goes to the back and is quickly flung over her mother’s shoulder and rushed out of the room. I stare into Lily’s sweet eyes every second she bounces away. She holds a look on her face that I can’t quite recognize.

As everyone leaves I begin to feel a slight cooling sensation on my wrist. I look down to see the cut Lily had touched slowly receding back up my arm. And in that silenced moment I realize. It was care. Care in her eyes.

Author's Note

I tried to put some meaning in all of the names and actions. For the most part anything taken from it is up to the reader.