28 parts Ongoing Throughout Jimmy's entire life, he had never once sung a true canary's song. Not because he didn't have the voice for it-he did-but because he never felt the need. Or maybe, more truthfully, he'd never been given the chance.
Every time he tried, someone would tell him to shut up.
If he chirped even a little too loud, a heavy blanket would be thrown over his cage, plunging him into darkness, tricking him into thinking it was night. He'd sit there, silent and still, alone in that manufactured night, wondering what he did wrong.
He never stayed in one place for long. From one owner to the next, passed around like an afterthought. A decoration. A novelty. Never a companion.
Eventually, the canary stopped trying. He stopped chirping. He stopped dreaming of melodies. His voice, once instinctual, dulled into a forgotten thing.
He was yelled at so often that, after a while, he started to believe his name was Shut Up.
Shut up, they'd say.
You're too loud.
You're too noisy.
And so, he wasn't.
He was quiet. Invisible.
A canary who never sang.
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