The Wings Of A Caged Bird | First Draft

chapter 1 : my turn to fly

I used to think Dawn and I would live forever.

With the assumption that time will stretch on endlessly for us, we would dream dreams of a colourful future. Sitting in Dawn's room, listening to music, we would often talk about many of the things we would do when we are older; when we have more freedom. From simple things like taking a stroll on the beach at midnight, to nearly-impossible things like taking a trip to the moon on a spaceship shaped like a dolphin — with Dawn, my imaginations could soar beyond limits. They would defy all rules and barriers that chained my body to the cold and hard ground, sometimes to the point that the unrealism of them would be hilarious.

Out of the many rebellious things we hoped to do, running away from home was one that would often come up.

Dawn had no reason to run away from home, becuase unlike me, his home really was his home. But he once told me that if I wanted to run away, he would be my partner in crime. But only for a while. Somehow, at the end, he hoped that he would be able to convince me to come back. And together we would come back home, carrying a bag of memories that would shine in dazzling glitter forever in our hearts.

Dawn allowed me to dream. Dawn allowed me to fly. Dawn allowed me to breathe. Dawn allowed me to live.

But it's all gone now.

Or at least, I thought so.

Until a certain person came to my life.

All the times I imagined running away from home, I would either be alone, or I would have Dawn with me. But tearing apart all the things I ever learned to believe in, right now, the one walking beside me is a soul trapped between heaven and hell for giving up on his heartbeat after years of suffering I can only dare to imagine. He is invisible and non-existent to every human in this world but me. He doesn't eat or sleep or breathe. Water and temperature cannot touch him. He has the looks of a high school prince and the behavior of a stupid toddler. 

And moreover, he is a pervert.

"Why is he looking at you like that?" He grabs my arm and scoots closer, keeping his eyes glued to a bony drunkard passing by. "He looks like he wants to eat you! And by you, I mean specifically your jingle-"

"Stop." I roll my eyes and sigh. Literally no one is looking at me like that. I don't have the energy to protest about these things anymore. Putting my phone to my ear I say, "They're used to seeing me here. They won't do anything. And can you please stop clinging to me like a 12-year old?"

"What?" He leans his head back and turns to me with disbelief in his eyes. "I'm trying to protect you from sexual predators!"

"And what can you do if someone does try to harass me? You can't even touch other humans."

"Well, I'll . . ." He scratches the back of his head with his other hand. Then he nods and replies, "You'll feel more safe if I'm close to you like this."

"The only thing I'm feeling is annoyed."

"Hmph! You don't know what you've got unless it's go— Oh my God, why is she looking at you like that?" He points at a slender, dark skinned woman standing in front a dirty shack, her cat eyes regarding me with curiosity. I quickly turn my gaze away. Then July turns into an Englishman and says, "Blimey, how in the bloody hell am I supposed to protect my Little Buddy 1 from the lustful gazes of men and women? Bit hard, innit?"

I stifle a laugh. Passing the alley which seems to get dirtier everyday, we reach Edgar's house. I have been breathing through my mouth because of how intolerable the smell is.

I don't want to go inside as his parents will probably force me to stay over for dinner. So I call him and tell him to come out. After about two minutes, he does.