I know you.

16 Years later

It's been sixteen years since we left our hollow. I have grown used to it, but i would rather be anywhere else.

Twice a day I go for a walk in the forest behind the farm, which basically takes up about half of my days. The rest of the time I spend it with the horses...in the forest. Actually, I do spend all my time in the forest.
But I just can't get enough of it.
Even though i only spent a day in our homeland, I really miss it. And I know my family misses it too.
My sister has grown to be a beautiful tanned Eian with brown hair and eyes, like my father. I, on the other hand, look just like my mother. Pale skin, green eyes and coal-black hair.
My parents tried to have another baby, but my mother gave up years ago. They said that they needed "Another pair of helpful wings" in the house, which is not only contradicting but also counterproductive, because we are not aloud to fly.
We were banned from flying right after we got here, and none of us have ever even tried it; we have no idea how to. Of course my parents know how to fly, but they wear harnesses all the time, just in case a human comes by.
That is counterproductive too, because the only human I've ever actually seen was the one who sold us the ranch with the horses. It's been sixteen years.
As I was saying, I spend my time in the forest, which by now I know by hard. Usually, I take a horse with me just in case we find people having picnics and I have to run. It has never actually happened.
You see I wear a harness to fold down my wings but not a coat, it's too warm for that here.
In fact, i only wear shorts and special t-shirts my mother makes, because my wings take up all the space in my back.
As I've said before i usually take a horse with me just in case and that's exactly what happened today.
As soon as i took off with my mother shouting something in the distance, i asked the horse to go by the river side so we wouldn't get lost. If you turn by the first river bend you'll get to some waterfalls with clear water and a considerable amount of hollowed caves. It has always been my sacred hiding place.
So, as i was saying, i followed my daily routine and kept the horse on the path near the water. I started to sing to myself.
"I know you,
I walked with you once upon a dream,
I know you, the gleam in you eyes is so familiar a gleam..."
I continued to sing my favorite human song while asking my horse to turn into a cave hidden by the waterfall.
The echo inside made my singing sound distant.
"...Yet i know, it's true, the visions are seldom all they seem..."
I jumped off my horse and let it wander freely throughout the cave
But the moment I jumped on the floor, I heard a noise and turned around, unable to finish my song.
"But if Iknow you, I know what you'll do,
You'll love me at once, the way you did once,
Upon a-"
I searched for the noise, and stepped out of the cave only to find I was all alone. As always.
You're being paranoid.
I went back in, jumped on my horse and left the place. I usually like being alone, but for some reason the loneliness I was used to now was making me uncomfortable.
As i left the cave i saw something on the ground near the waterfall. A white tulip.
It had been cut off recently; it was still fresh. I couldn't ignore the fact that no wild tulips grew in Canada, and in my family's greenhouse house we didn't grow them either.
I searched for the humanoid responsible for this, but couldn't find anyone.
I decided not to panic, there was no use in worrying about it.
There was a possibility that a couple were having a romantic picnic and left there the flower. That would explain the noise.
No, they would have seen me.
As i unsuccessfully tried to convince myself that it was just some flower laying there, a part of me wondered what would actually happenned if my own species succeeded in finding us.
My parents have never actually told us the real reason we left our hollow, or why we had to hide from our own kind.
My sister and i have grown up in this place, and i'm not that sure that we want to live the rest of our lives stuck in here.