Silence is Golden

A tall, fair skinned girl stood on the edge of a rocky cliff, the cold, unforgiving waves below crashing endlessly against them. Her long black hair flowed in the chilling sea air, her ice-blue eyes gazed longingly toward the clouds hiding the sun. She gazed down at the cragged rocks, she studied the wooden beams and sail material, the remains of hundreds of desperate escape attempts. Sighing, but making no sound, she turned her back to the painful reminder of freedom and turned to face the dark trees of the forest. She set off on a rarely trodden path, the path to her home, if you could call such an unsafe place "home."

She walked through the endless rows of unremarkable trees until she came to a clearing, the only clearing near her village where no cameras, microphones or guards were placed. Securing a hair-tie over her long locks and arranging them into a scruffy bun, she stepped out of the shadows of the trees and approached the towering stone wall, most travellers would ask what the wall was keeping out, she would always sign, 'It keeps us in' and walk away. She began crawling ever so slowly into an opening under the bricks and through a short tunnel before coming into the back of an old building. It did not look like a pleasant place to be, the floor-boards were coated in a thick carpet of dust with rusted nails standing from their once firm place, quietly she dusted off her grey overalls and crept over to the only board-less window.

Looking out onto the street she saw many people all walking their own way, but none uttering a single word or sound. Of course they didn't, they couldn't. Carefully she climbed out of the window and into a small, dark alley and casually walked out into the street, joining with the crowd. Her tattered grey clothes enabled her to blend with them as she made her way to one of the many silent houses standing silently on the main street. The girl found it strange that if you stood still and closed your eyes, you'd never know people were walking by you, you wouldn't even hear their footsteps as if no one existed where you stood. It was always an unsettling thought.

She opened the finely oiled door to see a taller figure sitting at an old brown desk, silently scribbling down notes on a large journal, its leather case weathered with age and use. The figure stood up, she looked quite like the younger girl, but her facial features were more worn from worry and her eyes had lost any sign of hope that was once there. She raised her hands and signed, 'Why so late Ella? Why do you insist on putting yourself in such danger?'

The girl shrugged and replied by placing one fist in front of the other before her chest and then separating them, the sign 'Freedom.' The older girl rolled her eyes and signed, 'it's never going to happen, you won't get past the waves, that's how uncle died, and why cousin Dean was hanged.' Ella looked at her feet, she remembered that day, the day she had to watch her own cousin stand on the platform in the middle of the town square, the desperate look in his eyes as he waited for the trapdoor release was still embedded in her young mind. He'd done nothing. Said nothing. It was his father's escape attempt that caused his death.

Ella sat on the cold sheets of her bed in her plain room, the only thing showing her individuality was her tattered leather-bound sketchbook, small watercolour collection and paintbrushes. She opened it to a very specific page, one of a colourful street, with happy people walking freely together, little music notes flowing from the mouths of some laughing children. That was Ella's dream, her fantasy of the world outside of her prison, one with freedom and safety, one of happiness. She flipped to another page, this time a beautiful blue bird flying from an iron cage into a peaceful forest, with great green grass hills and fluorescent flowers, and wind carrying dandelion fuzz into the bright blue sky. She imagined the melodic sound of the birds singing in unison. She desperately wished she could be that bird, flying free from her cage and living a normal, safe life.

Two mornings later Ella stood on the edge of the high cliff once again, her hair billowing in the endless sea wind. As she gazed out into the beyond she sighted the faint silhouette of a ship. Travellers, no one else could leave this place alive. She sat down on the wet grass, a tear falling from her pale cheek as she watched the silhouette slowly sink into the peaceful waters beyond her prison. As she gazed into the distance she whispered, 'one day Ella, one day.'