Eyes like frozen headlights
as they catch her with a
bottle to her lips,
skin stained with salt
from when the tears
came.
And they shout
and they scream and
she raises hands into the air,
dirtied feathers a-shiver at
her back. She
wears a sack with
slits for arms, that
barely covers where her
legs split up, goosebumps
crawling up her skin,
and they pant
and lick their lips,
guns cold in their hands.
Her hair is wild with
fear, she curls into
the wall as they come nearer
and nearer whispering
"You're not a fairy anymore."