All she wanted was to fly

All she wanted was to fly like the birds

She always looked at the birds by her window sill with envy. She just wanted to escape and fly in the sky away from the cold empty world she grew up in.

She wanted to soar through the skies without a care in the world and let the sun kiss her skin as the wind gently whistled through the trees.

All she ever wanted was to feel at peace like she did before but the world was not so kind. It looked so light and free outside like an illusion that you would always pray that it was real.

You would always find her siting by a window and looking at the birds with her sketch book on her lap. She always looked like she was in another world when looking at the birds from inside her house to being outside laying on the grass.

When her friends asked her about her fascination with the birds she would laugh and shrug it off while changing the subject.

No one really knew why she looked at the birds with an envious gleam in her eye or why she shrugged it off when asked. Her friends learned to not question it as it always lead you to a dead end.

If you walked through her house you would find tons of birds drawn to perfection in crisp white frames.

Everyone would say she had a talent for drawing and would make it far in life. That someone that bright would be successful and happy but no one knew the truth until after.

They didn't know about her demons that kept her up at night and how she felt trapped in her home even though she could easily walk through the door and leave. The rooms felt like a prison and the doorways an illusion of thinking she could leave but only to enter another room.

The hallways suffocated her when she walked through them and felt like a labyrinth in the way that wherever she went was a dead end but in reality she could walk easily through the doorways that would lead her outside.

The mirrors cried and shattered making her scream for it to stop but never realized it was her that was breaking. The walls in her room felt like it would turn on her at any second and rip her apart while she was trapped in a cage of nightmarish slumber.

Her paintings that covered her walls would start ripping themselves apart while laughing at her for not doing anything right.

Her statues would laugh ,taunt and cry at her about her mistakes saying that it was silly of her to look at something she will never have. Her photos would cry at her to make the pain stop and set them free but little did she know it was only in her mind and only her breathing could be heard like a whisper.

She didn't know that everything in her house was still in perfect condition and the shouting and pain was only in her head as it was only a dreadful silence surrounding her. She didn't know that the yelling of her demons and hallucinations were just her yelling at her self.

Maybe that is why she always looked at the birds. They didn't feel caged only free and were always perfect feeling no sense of dread,responsibility, pain and guilt.

To her they represent peace, greatness and light that she could not see that she could have herself if she tried. She wanted to be like a bird so badly it was tearing her apart. She stopped talking to everyone and shut herself away in her prison of a home. She ignored the pleas of everyone asking her what they did wrong and why she was doing this.

She wanted to stitch herself back together and be like everyone else but she knew she couldn't be free. She wanted to stitch wings onto herself and be free, away from the nightmares and fears but you can't stitch wings you do not have.

She wanted to shatter like her mirrors,rip and burn like her paintings she worked so hard on, set her photographs free and cry like her statues but she knew that wouldn't give her what she wanted so badly.

It felt like a vicious cycle she couldn't break. There were times when she would cry herself to sleep asking the birds outside her window why they were so lucky,to be free and fly away from the nightmarish negatives that were embedded in her body like a flowers growing in a garden and felt like a disease running through her veins.

She kept saying that no one can blame her for this as it is not her fault her being like this,wanting to fly like this. She wanted to feel whole and powerful like a bird flying through the deadliest storms. She wanted to be free like a rose growing amongst the thorns but she never got to. She cried tears of blood on the paper as she wrote the last goodbyes and regrets. She wrote apologizes about what happened and saying that it was better off this way.

She left the goodbyes, regrets, apologizes and acceptance in a nestlike stacked pile full of a broken heart and bloody tears next to her windowsill where she kept her window open with her favourite hand drawn sketch of a bird in a crisp white frame.

The picture held more grace and perfection than she ever did as she walked out of her prison. When reading her notes that she left, you would think she wrote it with the veins of her heart that was written in her soul. She walked slowly through the labyrinth of her perfect pristine house and then ran off into her woody backyard. As she ran she felt her nightmares screaming come back and that they weren't done with her yet.

She ran until she reached a clearing that was stopped by a cliff with beautiful flowers,trees and beautiful rushing water.

They find her at the bottom dressed in her best clothing looking like a puppet that fell off its strings. When family and friends gathered around the crime scene one of her friends told an officer in tears " All she ever wanted was to fly".