The Wings Of A Caged Bird | First Draft

side-story | alison

Alison Lockwood has never been too good at understanding her emotions, let alone expressing them.

When she was younger, she closely observed this particular aspect of herself. She realized that there is a deep intensity in the way she feels things, but for some reason, all of it gets internalized, evaporating within her, never managing to leave. And when she genuinely tries to let it out, things never go the way she wants. She either ends up saying the wrong things, or she says half of what she meant, while the other half gets drowned in her hesitation.

So at some point of her life, she gave up on herself. It doesn't matter anyway, she thought, and isolated herself from things that do matter. And when the time came for her to reintegrate, she failed. Or perhaps, she didn't try hard enough. She simply didn't have the energy to. Because trying hard is the only thing she had been doing for as long as she remembered, and her mind was at its limit.

In light of recent circumstances, she has been spending a lot of time pondering over where she went wrong as a human, and why.

She considers that the reason behind this might be rooted to the fact that she spent most of her childhood and teenagehood all alone. She did have a friend in high school, but she never managed to connect with her too deeply, despite the person making a lot of efforts to nourish their freindship. It was all Alison's fault, and there were many times she ended up hurting her friend unintentionally.

And hence, she didn't get to experience a lot of things or meet a lot of people. When she had enough and decided to leave with Daniel, everything changed too abruptly. After being thrusted into the real world so out of the blue, she didn't have time anymore. She had no time, or energy, to try and understand herself, to try and be kinder to herself. How else could she understand her husband and kids, how else could she be kind to them?

But it didn't take her long to realize, how while her loneliness and self-isolation might have played a role, it certainly wasn't the prime reason.

In reality, she knows it's because she has never been given a chance to have a say on things. She has never been given the chance to speak, to choose, to protest, to care. She has never been given the comfort to feel.

And though she had a lot of time to change herself for the better, she didn't. She couldn't.

And now, the ones suffering for her endless mistakes, are two innocent souls she brought to this world.

It's past midnight, the hour hand of the clock sitting on 2. Alison is sitting in her bed, back against the pillow. The lamp on the vanity table beside the bed is turned on, illuminating a piece of paper. About two weeks ago, she found this paper under her pillow, folded neatly, thrice. When she unfolded, what she found was a letter from the son who eloped hours before.

Dear mom,

I don't think I have ever told you this straight and forward before. So I'm going to tell you now. I want you to know that you have deeply hurt me. But maybe you already know that. I'm not mad, but I'm in so much pain.

I know you have always wanted what's good for me. I really do. But I don't know why you can't see how much you are hurting me in the process. I have always tried my best. Even after Dawn's death made me want to stop breathing, I still tried my best. Not only because I'm afraid of you, but also because I wanted you to love me just like Dawn's mother loved him. Instead all I received is bitterness. And I don't think the bitterness is directed towards me. I think it's directed more towards yourself, and your own life.

I don't resent you. Somehow I can't, even if I want to. And even if I do, a part of me still cries for you out of sympathy. But still, I sincerely hope that you will think about me, about our family, about yourself. Maybe it's naive of me, but I sometimes dream of having a beautiful family, and a mother who pampers me. Is that a lot to ask for?