In Vinculis Sorores

You’ve been gone for a year now. I can still hear you. We always dreamed of escape, but not like this. Not without me. I’m still in my cage. I’m afraid I won’t know how to fly without you, little bird. I’ve left the cage door open in case you find your way back to me. Just promise you won’t make me wait forever.

I haven’t given up on you. I never will.

You’re still in the forest aren’t you, birdy? You wouldn’t go any further without me. I know that.

The others say you’re not coming back. They’re liars. They always were.

Did you lose yourself in the trees? It’s easy to do that in the dark.

I wait until the others sleep and dream of life as they have been told it is, then I go to the place where you found refuge. They told me not to go to the forest. Just as they told you.

I don’t dare tell mother what I do when she sleeps. Whenever I mention you, she simply smiles. Not happily. The smile is a warning.

What did they do to you, little bird? I told you to not ask questions. They don’t like questions. Is that why you’re gone?

I went deeper than I have ever gone tonight. Past the trees that help me remember you. Past where we used to escape together. Where it was just us. Where, for a brief moment, we forgot the horror. The further I went, the more I feared that the forest stopped being a refuge a long time ago.

I felt you there, birdy.

I usually find you in the places we shared. But not this time. That part of the forest was yours alone. Alone. Just as I am. Just as neither of us wished to be. I heard whispers in the wind. Brushing past the tall pines. Was it you?

You’re sending me mad little bird. The trees speak to me now because you don’t.

I have to find you soon.

You must know I’m looking. If I don’t find you, I can’t escape. And if I can’t escape then I am trapped.

They fitted mother’s gown to my body today. The bodice was too loose. Then it was too tight. But if they must they will sew me into the dress on the day of the ceremony so as not to rip it.

I span for mother and the other women. In a dress that wasn’t my own, pins holding it together at the sides. I felt like a caterpillar, unable to burst out of its cocoon. Still, they all smiled with their lips pressed together. Certainly, wider than I had ever seen them smile before. As if I was the most beautiful thing they had ever seen. I couldn’t blame them for it. What other beauty have they witnessed?

I need you to show yourself before the gown is all stitched up. Before I can no longer take it off. I will come back tomorrow night. To the forest that was once ours. I have to hurry birdy. Soon I will be a bride. I refuse to be folded into silence. The plan hasn’t changed, has it? Together. We leave together.

*****

Found you.

You were always good at hide and seek. But you never meant to stay hidden from me, did you?

There was a bird, perched on one of the many branches of the many pines, it was you. You showed me the way. You must have known that this was my last chance. I did the only thing I could think to do, I followed the bird. The bird that I will forever pretend was you. I was right about one thing. You never went further than the forest.

You brought me down a path I didn’t recognize. One that led to a clearing. It was strange, birdy. Silent. Still. The trees stood like watchers around a circle of seven stumps. And in the centre, scorched earth and charred bones. Small bones. Your bones. The bird I followed to the clearing collapsed on the gruesome pile. I approached it to find that it could hardly be called a bird at all. It had become nothing but the body, its wings clipped. Before I could pick it up, it turned to ash. As though it had never been at all.

There was a word carved into each of the seven stumps.

“Ut accipiamus a terra, debemus dare terrae.”

Latin for “In order to receive from the earth, we must give to the earth.” A doctrine I recalled from mother’s scriptures. It makes no sense, but I have the luxury of calling myself sane among the insane. You were given to the land. And what did they even receive? Rain after drought? Something they would have gotten whether you had been sacrificed or not.

The rain would have come after the long summer.

But they thought that their god would never make them wait. Not even a day too many.

I made it so they wouldn't have to wait any longer to meet their false god.

I stumbled away from the clearing and waiting for me were seven crows. I had never seen crows in the forest. They all peered down at me before leaving their branches and flying ahead. And just as I did with the other, now wingless, creature, I followed. Followed through the forest. Followed until the world was no longer shrouded by shadow and the moon’s light was unfiltered. I looked back to find that the birds had stayed at the edge of the forest. I looked forward to find that I didn’t.

The moon wasn’t the only light I saw. In front of me was a large illuminated sign: “OPEN 24/7.” I entered the building with the bright sign. Inside was a young man. He was oddly dressed and had a tag on his shirt “Steve”.

“Steve.” I said. He smiled and nodded. “How can I help?” I hesitated for a moment, how could he help?

“Do you have something that burns?” His smile faded. He looked down at my conservative clothes, then outside to the forest. He had just realized something. I could tell by the quiet hitch in his breath. He grabbed some matches and put them on the counter between us, then went to another room and came back out with a gas cannister. He pushed both items towards me. Cautiously. As if he was afraid. I took them and walked out without another word.

I re-entered the forest, letting the gasoline spill on my way back to where the monsters who did this to you slept. I walked up the creaky stairs to our house and doused the dress I was supposed to wear tomorrow. Then I took a match from the box in my left hand and set fire to mother’s gown. It spread fast, following the trail I had made.

The earth demanded a sacrifice and I gave it one.

But this time, little bird, it was them.

I ran alongside the blaze and returned to the road that separated us from the store that sold gasoline and matches.

Soon, our forest would be nothing but ash.

And I was glad.

Glad that we would no longer need a refuge.

That the cage was empty.

That we were free.

We had finally escaped.