The Blue Bird

Chapter Ten

I can't tell you how long I lay in my bed, bathing in misery, and thinking it my only companion.

I felt completely hopeless. I felt like I had lost everything and everyone I had ever loved, and I felt so heavy with grief that I couldn't physically move.

Eventually, I had cried out all my tears, and ruminated on all the terrible things that had happened to me to past the point of exhaustion.

I remember lying there in emptiness for what felt like a year of night-time. Then one morning, I noticed the gentle glow of sunrise reflecting off my brass bed-posts.

Lacking the energy to get up and stand at the window, I rolled off my bed and knelt on the ground to get a better view of the sky.

The way the colours mixed and changed was absolutely awe-inspiring. It started as a faint purple that crept up from behind the mountains to defy the midnight sky. Slowly, the purple spread and lightened, easing into a bold and beautiful blue. The rising sun seemed to set fire to the mountain ranges.

Suddenly, a harsh light flashed in my eyes. I squinted, trying to find the source of the assault.

It lay in a forgotten corner, covered in dust and cobwebs, but its steel strings were still able to shine in the sunlight.

Though I remembered that it had once been a source of comfort, I had no desire to play my harp now, but I reached for it anyway.

I plucked one of the strings; it was horribly out of tune - as you would expect, I had neglected it for so long - but the sound still filled the room, and seemed to send echoes of a former joy through my mind.

I adjusted the strings, until my harp sang as it was supposed to, then played the start of Hector's favourite song.

As I played, I felt the unseen claw of sadness slowly loosen its grip on my chest. It wasn't like my life suddenly became perfect again and my grief and loneliness just disappeared, but I did feel...lighter.

I pondered the notion of perfection, and realized that my life had never actually been perfect, I had just been able to be grateful for what I had.

A wry smile tugged at my lips. Dina had made it extremely hard to find things to feel grateful for, she had been trying to break me for as long as she had been in my life - and, for a while there, I had let her think that she could - but there were things she couldn't take from me.

She couldn't change the fact that my father cared about me. She couldn't change the fact that Hector would rather die than renounce his love for me. She could take away my harp, but she couldn't take away the countless tunes I had stored in my mind. Even if she took away my window, I could recall a thousand sunrises from memory. She could lock me in a dungeon, but she couldn't chain my soul.

I looked back out of the window, and let out a deep breath. I could see the shadows of hundreds of birds as they soared through the clouds, and decided to envy them no longer.

I was going to be okay. Even if my absolute worst fears were confirmed, and my beloved Hector was dead. I was going to be okay.

As long as I had breath in my body, there was hope. It was time to stand up for myself, and stop letting Dina destroy not just my life, but the lives of my people, the people I loved.

I let out a harsh laugh. What was I going to do, grow wings? I didn't even have the strength to stand. Although, maybe the idea of growing wings was not as absurd as it seemed, Hector had managed it.

Okay, so, it was done to him by Dina and against his will, but it was still something to think about.

One thing was for certain. I'd had enough of my prison. It was time to reclaim my freedom.

I turned my attention to my prison door. I had three problems. One, the lock, requiring a key I did not possess. Two, - slightly less important, but worth noting - the hinges were on the outside of the room. Three, the wooden bar in front of the door that would prevent it from opening whether it was locked or not.

As I clutched my harp to my chest, I was struck by an idea that had never occured to me before.

"Forgive me, old friend." I whispered, as I started to unwind its strings.