Free as a Bird

The young girl’s hands fiddled with the pieces of cardboard spread across the floor of her room. She lifted them up one by one until, finally, she found her scissors. Wrapping her fingers around the handle, she ran back to her desk, where the remnants of an unfinished masquerade mask laid. Next to the bits and pieces of plastic gems, tape, and paper, a small creature, about the size of a standard ruler, was determined to unravel a ball of yarn. The cockatiel had not left her side since school had ended, but the company was exactly what she needed. 

“You see this mask? I’m gonna wear it when I’m the bad guy, and take it off when I’m the good guy.” Clara sat down in the desk chair, catching the yarn seconds before the mischievous bird, Chalk, could unravel it down the wooden edge of the table. She had been preparing the show for nearly a week, and everyone in her family had time tonight to watch her perform. She only had the mask left to finish, and she could barely stop moving, she was so excited. The black construction paper had bits ripped out of it from Chalk’s unforgiving beak, but it was still one solid piece. Clara began to slowly cut out the white outline of the mask on the paper, carefully and precisely. Before she could even get two snips in, she felt a nudge at her arm, then a peck. She lowered the paper and, in front of her, Chalk stood with his head tilted downwards, his way of asking to be pet. She put the scissors down on the other side of the desk, ensuring the bird would not come near them, and proceeded to scratch Chalk’s head. She stopped once he seemed content and continued cutting the mask out. 

“Chalk, you know you’re going to be part of the show too. You’re going to guide Jewelia to the evil King Swordite, which is a very important role.” Chalk just simply tilted his head at her and climbed onto her arm. Scooping him up with her other hand, she placed him onto the small perch next to the workplace.

“I just need to finish this, then we can play.” Clara continued back on with cutting the mask out and began humming the opening song of her show. The tweets of Chalk slowly joined in and he got louder and louder until she was barely audible. The opening song had been the first thing she wrote that eventually inspired the idea to write an entire show. Although it was twenty minutes long and there were only two songs, she still felt like this was the best thing she had ever done, regardless of the fact that she was only eight-years-old. She finished cutting the shape of the masquerade mask and glued it onto the cardboard cut-out she had finished earlier. Now, it was her favourite part. She was going to add the little faux gem stickers, feathers and fabric. Clara picked a silver gem from the sticker sheet and carefully began to stick it onto the mask, her hand shaking from the precision she was attempting to achieve. It had almost touched the black surface, when she jumped from the startling noise of a small bird’s sudden screech, in the midst of her quiet focus. The gem fell off her finger and onto the floor, sticky side down. 

“Ah! You just wasted a gem, Chalk! It’s okay, I have more.” Clara looked at the sheet, grabbing two more gems. She successfully stuck those on without any interruption. Now, for the feathers. Clara opened a drawer and retrieved a resealable plastic bag filled with fake, brightly coloured feathers. She dug around in it for a moment before finally finding a large, black one. Placing it next to the mask, she was surprised to see a feather in the bag that did not look as fake as the ones around it. 

“How did this get in here, Chalk?” She pulled the small, pale yellow feather from the bag, putting it next to the black feather. She managed to find a smaller black feather and glued the two onto the masquerade mask, leaving Chalk’s feather to lay on her desk.

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The young woman’s hands fiddled with the lace shawl that she would be putting on in less than five minutes. She stood behind the curtain with her co-star, who was rambling in a fit of joy. 

“I am so excited, I could puke. I won’t puke, but I could.” Mandy, who would be playing the role of an envious neighbour, laughed at her own nervousness, looking at Clara with bright eyes. “You are going to do amazing, I know it. I know the opening number is kind of intimidating, but we’ve all been there. You’re going to do great.” Mandy smiled and was rushed off the stage by the technical crew, leaving Clara alone. She carefully placed the shawl around her arms and took her spot in the center of the stage. The only other things on the stage were a chair and a small table, but they could not be seen by the audience. The dress she was wearing was extravagant, one that was supposed to resemble a ball gown from the 1850s. It was royal blue, with a skirt that widened past her hips. The skirt gave the impression that it was heavily layered, but, due to the nature of theatre, she could slip it on and off without much difficulty. The curtains proceeded to open, and she was exposed to the most amount of people she had ever seen in one place. 

Clara, who, as a child, had been creating makeshift props in her room, which she had used for performances in her living room, was now, as a fresh-faced young adult, about to perform her first leading role. It would be an understatement to say she was a bit nervous.

With a deep breath in, she began to sing. Her voice echoed in the silent theatre, accompanied by the orchestra, and the looks on the faces of the people in the audience almost surprised her. They were engrossed by her, their eyes never wavering. She felt a rush of triumph, and with each note, she became more confident. The feeling of knowing she was able to make others feel such intense emotion, it almost drove her to tears. She got more impassioned as the song went on, possessing all the sorrow and injustice her character had dealt with. While she was rehearsing, she had felt as though the song was unbearably long and slow, but, now, before she could even process that she had reached the last line, the song was over and the audience’s clapping filled the large room. She had to contain her joy, for she still had over an hour and a half to remain in character. The table and chair had been moved in order to be seen on stage and she strolled over to the props. She placed her shawl on the table, allowing it to be messy and spill over the surface. Subsequently, she outstretched her arm and a ring-necked dove flew from its perch offstage and settled onto her arm. Its mixture of grey, brown and white feathers made it almost resemble a finely done painting, smooth and complete. The black ring of small feathers around its neck contrasted its lighter body, and Clara had told many people that this bird was one of the most beautiful creatures she had seen in her life. Although, she did have a soft spot for birds. 

With the dove calmly rested on her arm, Clara started her monologue,

“Oh, to be as free as a bird…”