Author's Note: This is just a simple flash fiction I wrote for Creative Writing class. This was just an exercise wherein we had to write about the prompt given to us (A bird is not a bird when...). My teacher thought it was nice and said I should keep it. Hehehe. So, I decided to post it here instead. :)
"A bird is not a bird when it's locked up inside a cage," I said, staring glumly at the heavens which once belonged to me. But I couldn't see it in all its entirety. I see other birds flying and having the time of their lives, basking in the sunlight as it takes them into a world far different from their own. I love watching them from here, even if it means being trapped within these bars. But the fact that they just come and go saddens me to the core.
Now that I think about it. I have wings; I have feathers; I have a beak; I have all the features of a bird. Most of all, I can fly just as swiftly and far as those other birds. But how I wish I were like them.
Perhaps the very fact that I am a bird is what led me here. I didn't know how the others managed to escape, though. Humans are such cruel creatures.
For some reason, I kept feeling a waft of wind brushing against my feathers, as if to say with a whisper more felt than heard, "Look behind you." And I did. It took me this long to admit that I've been looking at the wrong direction all this time.
The cage has always been open.