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7/28/2019 Belonging Creative - Not by Me
1/1
Congratulations.
Five syllables. One word. A million sparks of energy surge through my body sending my every nerve
into a hypnotic awe. It was as though you were falling in a dream and being kicked out of it. A
moment of realisation this must be just a dream, and for that reason alone I refuse to let it sink
into my conscience. The world will remain a tone, a sound wave having happened to penetrate
through my very existence, bouncing off the walls of my ears.
Those alike to me filled their faces with confusion; a hidden envy for all that has been given to me.
Each of their pupils reflects my own face. A face holding a balance of gratitude and respect, and the
other an anticipation of disappointment. My role in my future has been just to wait, but after
countless years of just waiting, the future grows dark and sneering, ugly and terrifying. Its laughter
reverberating off the walls I have faced each and every day. The unknown becomes a scary place,
when all you know becomes all you had my own defence is the reason to my hopelessness. I cling
to familiarity only to find myself alone in my own confinement. My personal space lost its liberty
many years ago. When you are handed the gateway, to an exit, the very though will literally make
your stomach convulse. With every knot untied, the memories spill forward. I remember many
things about life outside. I cannot let them slip.
I spent my day is everything but thinking. Desperately, I attempted to keep busy. Perhaps all I
needed was to remain detached and secluded. My friends began to distance themselves, readying
for the very moment of finally saying goodbye. I nod as l walk through our gathering place; they nod
back, dismissing my presences as a distraction from their own battles. I allow them that and feel
nothing; to them I am now just like a mosquito that stings until you itch a testament to an
unhomely invasion. I slept little and dreamt a lot. These were the symptoms of a troubled heart. If its
disease could be captured by man and poured into a bowl of water, it will become a deep, inky blue
resembling nothing but poison.
Today was the day. Subconsciously, I combed my hair and made sure to stretch, preparing for the
final exit. At the precise time it was planned, my name was called. I rose ever so slowly, my steps
short and measured, I was concise in my movement, engulfed in so much fear of the unknown. The
doors open, the slight arch of my lips and the goose bumps that penetrated my every paw, a dead
give-away of the tension I felt.
The screech of the cage door, at its monotonous pace, opened. My feet failed from under me,
struggling to make the slightest movement my mind responded, angry, threatening one moresecond trapped here and it would combust, sending me into nothingness. The aroma of grass, wet
rain and worms took over my senses, and before I could control it, my body took a hold of me and I
leaped, spreading my wings as wide as they could go, and finally I was soaring. Everything became
a blur, a mirage intertwining as I urged to go higher. The blue skies engulfed me, and the clean crisp
air of the morning brushed against my blue and green feathers the warmth of the sun aided in
illuminating the heaven-like trance I was in. Naturally, my wings flapped against the air and for a
second I lose my surroundings, I come to terms with the feeling thats pounding against my heart,
the feeling of peace, of home, of freedom. I cry out, and the familiar noise of calling my friends rings
true and I find myself a midst the highest branch of a tree, chatting and pushing I was finally back
home amongst my kind, amongst what humans like to call us as canaries.