Captivity

“OLIVE!” my mom hollered as she barged into my room, “You need to do your laundry and clean up the kitchen. There should be some meat in the fridge for a sandwich, I’ll be home around five with groceries-”

“Mask?” I asked, crawling to the edge of my bed.

“In my purse,” she said, kissing my forehead, “I love you, be safe-do your laundry!”

I groaned as my eyes followed her out of the room. I rolled my head towards the window, watching her pull out of the driveway. I sighed, reluctantly walking to my dresser. I threw on some leggings and a sweatshirt. I glared over at the stack of laundry laying in my closet. I sighed, grabbing my laundry basket and trudging it downstairs. 

I grabbed each piece of laundry one by one to decide which load it was going in. Whites go with the whites, darks with the darks, and sweaters and delicates grouped together. As much time as it takes to go through it one by one, it helps me become more grateful for the things I have, and honestly, it’s kind of soothing. 

I threw all of my darks into the washing machine and reached for the detergent. I groaned, realizing it wasn’t there. I looked around the room, finally spotting it in the closet at the end. I walked over to grab it like I have a million times before, but something stopped me today. I looked past the detergent to see the outline of a square. I had never seen that there before, and I have lived here my entire life. I moved the cleaning supplies out of the way as I leaned back to the wall. I traced the outline with my eyes, following with my hands. 

This is an old house, I thought to myself, don’t some old houses have dumbwaiter systems? My train of thought was cut off when I tripped over the hose of the vacuum, falling against the wall. I let out a stifled groan as I turned over, examining my already injured knee. I looked up for something to grab onto but was greeted with the empty square in the wall.

Crap! I thought to myself, my mom is really going to kill me when she sees this. I examined the wall, tracing it with my eyes than my fingers. Then, I realized that the wall was on the other side of me. If I fell into the wall, wouldn’t it have been in front of me rather than behind? 

I got up, turned around, and walked back into the laundry room. I rolled my eyes, thinking I was crazy. I poured the detergent into the cap and started to drop it into the washing machine. I watched it fall but it never touched anything. It just disappeared. I did it again and again, each time the detergent would do the same thing, fall but never land. I reached my hand into the drawer that pops out when you start the cycle, it was dry. I looked at my hand and back into the drawer, something was seriously wrong.

I turned around and was greeted with my house, except it wasn’t my house, everything was backward. What was left was right, what was up was down, what was light was dim. Everything was dim. 

I crept out into the kitchen, everything was still backward. I yelled, but no one responded. I walked up the stairs, still yelling, but not a sound responded. I searched my entire house, nothing was there, other than the bizarre dimness of my new world. I curled up in my mom’s closet, trying to get rid of the happiness that was soaring through my body. I hated being a captive in my own house, it made me want to die, this could be my escape. I could leave captivity! I mean, who wants to be stuck in the same place, who wants to be the one in captivity?

Think about it this way, have you ever seen birds in captivity? At first glance, it may seem peaceful, an array of colors grouped with the overwhelming sounds of their song. It seems beautiful, innocent . . . but if you look close enough, you can see them running instead of flying. They run from each other and into your hand-not because you have food in it, but because you are introducing a change in their environment. They stop running into the corners, the clear ceiling, the doors because maybe, just maybe you can help them escape the feeling of being caged. Realistically, we know they’re being caged, but we don’t care. This idea of captivity was made to amuse us, humanity, we couldn’t care less that we are tearing them apart because this captivity was made for us. It doesn’t matter that birds are social creatures, it doesn’t matter that they need outside communication. The idea of social doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that we are tearing their souls from their bodies, it doesn’t matter that this unchanged environment is changing their natural behavior. It doesn’t matter that we are essentially killing them. It doesn’t matter because it doesn’t affect us.

Humans, like birds, are social creatures. We like having human contact, we agree with the idea of being in the presence of something else, but when it’s taken away from us, our natural behaviors change, because our environment isn’t able too. We have to find some way to stay sane, stay alive in captivity. Quarantine caged humanity. Quarantine made us powerless. Quarantine changed our natural behavior.

I think about the birds a lot. I think back to when I was seven and stood in the middle of the greenhouse with the birds flying all around me. I think about how I didn’t understand why they weren’t happy, and how I wanted to sneak one home. I think about the bluebirds that land right outside my window, how they seem so peaceful, how they were able to come and interact with the girl behind the invisible glass. I wonder if they think about saving us as I did them. Who wants to be trapped? Who doesn’t want to be saved from their reality?

It’s easy to say my mom thinks I am depressed. I sit around all day, blindly performing physics experiments and timed writes without a care in the world. I don’t go outside, I don’t read, I don’t draw, I don’t bake. Instead, I drown my sorrows in Cheeto Puffs as I binge every show on Netflix and tell my mom about the birds.

She always laughs and says, “Olive, you are not caged, you’re safe. If you want saving, go get it yourself,” I always roll my eyes and go back to stuffing my face with Cheeto Puffs, never admitting that my mom is right because she always is. 

It’s always been just my mom and me. My dad left when I was two, something about how his secretary was more interesting than his daughter and loving wife. My mom never confronted her feelings about it, she had to raise me. Sometimes I think I hold her back from her destiny. She was an amazing lawyer, top in the state, but when she had to take care of me all on her own, she stopped spending her energy in the thing she had always loved. She always tells me that she loves me more than anything, but I think she misses being a fulltime lawyer. She and I were always a great team and she made sure that this wouldn’t stop when quarantine started. I wish it has stayed the same.

Despite the fact that it is extremely dangerous to leave the house, she still has to work, six days a week. I don’t understand why she can’t work on cases at home, and it’s not like I can’t take care of myself, I’m 17, it’s just always a little bit better with my mom at home, but it hasn’t been like that in a while.

Let’s face it, quarantine fucking sucks, but it is nothing compared to where I was now. 

The sounds of footsteps broke my train of thought. I hugged my knees closer to my chest, waiting for my mom to come and surprise me. All I wanted was for things to go back to normal, or whatever normal is now. I heard the footsteps stop outside the door of my closet. I help my breath, unable to talk myself into thinking everything was okay.

“Olive?” Asked a very soothing voice, “Would you come out here please?”

Usually, I am not this naive, but something about the voice made me feel peaceful. I got up and walked out of the closet. I was greeted by a young woman, no older than twenty-five. She was sitting on the bed, waiting for me to join her. I stood directly across from her, holding my arms against my body.

“Who are you?” I asked, unable to move.

The lady smiled, “My name is Anna, I am here to show you your way.”

I scoffed, “Where am I?”

“Why don’t you come sit down,” she asked, rubbing the spot next to her. When I didn’t move, she continued, “Olive, you are in what we like to call the veil.”

My heart dropped, “The veil?! You mean the place between living and dead?”

The lady was still smiling, “Yes, Olive, you are in the land between life and death,” she stood up and looked around. 

I quietly stumbled against the wall. The veil. I was apparently dead. I tried to breathe but realized I didn’t have to. The first thought that jumped into my head was my mom. What was she going to do when she gets home to see me dead in the laundry room closet. I couldn’t feel anything but regret. I was dead and unable to live a full life. This. Is. It.

The lady crouched down in front of me, “Olive, I am whatever you want me to be. Different people see different things, all you need to know is that it is my job to guide you to your path.”

I looked up at her, realizing that I had spent the last days of my life in captivity, and now I get to spend the rest of my afterlife in captivity as well. “Where do I go?” I quietly asked.

She sighed, now sitting next to me, “That is up to you.”

I scoffed, glaring at her, “I’m dead and you’re telling me I get to choose?”

“You’re not dead,” she blurted out, “we just let you through the door.”

I looked at her, surprised to see she wasn’t lying. I fell against the wall, baffled that I wasn’t dead, “Through the door? What does that mean?”

She smiled and looked over at me, “Olive, you wouldn’t have been able to get through the door if you weren’t thinking that death was the way out.” I couldn’t help but agree, I hated captivity, but I could never leave my mom. I looked up at her, she was smiling at me, “Olive, I want you to come with me.”

“What?” I asked.

“Olive, I know what you are thinking, this is your way out, this is your escape. You don’t have to be trapped anymore,” her voice was so soothing like my moms was when I was a little girl. 

I looked up at her, unable to deny the thought of going so peacefully. I thought back to the cage I had been trapped in, unable to move, to see, to keep my soul and body together. I thought back to my captive state, how unhappy I was there, and how happy I am here. This is a way out, this is the answer. No more flying around in circles, I can stay here, I can thrive here.

“Olive,” the woman was standing now, holding out her hand, “come with me.”

I smiled standing up, “Okay,” I said, watching her face light up, “but first let me go get my mom, I don’t want to leave her alone.” I started out of the room but was stopped by her hand gripping my arm. “Hey!” I yelled, trying to pull my arm back.

“It can only be you, Olive. Only you can come with me.”

I yanked my arm back, glaring at the woman, “Can I think about it? Or at least say goodbye to my mom?”

The lady laughed taking a step closer, forcing me to step back, “You aren’t getting this are you?” She asked, “Olive, it can only be you and it can only be now.”

My heart dropped again, “You’re death aren’t you?” She sighed and sat back down on the bed, “That’s why you’re so convincing, and desperate.”

She snickered, “It’s a one-time offer kid, take it, or leave it.”

I sighed, sitting down next to her, “You’re not what I expected.”

“As I said, I am what you want me to be. I change all the time, but you don’t,” I scoffed as she continued, “you want saving? Well, this is it! I know I’m not a prince charming, but I am here to save you!”

I froze, she was right. I did want saving, I wanted to leave my cage. No one likes to be in captivity, it’s unnatural, but why couldn’t I save myself from it.

“I know it’s scary, I know you’re young. But this chance, it’s what you’ve been asking for, you can be saved from captivity! Just, come, with, me.” She said.

I stood up, admiring how calm she is, “Death,” she nodded, “I know I have asked for saving, and I know that captivity sucks, but this is never what I wanted.”

“You wanted saving, this is saving.”

“I know,” I sighed, “I know. But this isn’t what I meant! I don’t want to die! I just want to see my friends.”

“I understand you’re scared-”

“I’m not, scared.”

“You’re confused,” she said, still so calm, “It’s okay, you want to feel better. I know how to help you-”

“No,” I snapped.

“Come with me, you’ll be happy.”

I stumbled back into the hallway, realizing this isn’t what I thought. I watched her stand up and start walking towards me. I turned around, running downstairs, back to the wall. Why did I have to fall into the veil?

I hit the stairs and fell down. I looked up watching her strut down them, waiting to take me to the afterlife. I never should have wished for this. Captivity may kill, but that doesn’t mean we don’t want to escape. 

I crawled up the wall, running to the laundry room. The sound of her heels on the hardwood came closer as they accelerated. My breath picked up, I was barely able to breathe.

“OLIVE!” The woman yelled, chasing after me, “Just. Come. With. Me.”

I shook my head, the square box was right in front of me. I traced it with my eyes and dove into it. I hit the wall but didn’t go through. I held my throbbing head, tears streaming down my face. I should never have wished to die, I should never have wanted saving. 

I frosty hand squeezed my shoulder, “Olive. You. Want. Saving. THIS. IS. SAVING.”

“NO!” I yelled, throwing her hand off of me.

“COME. WITH. ME.” She glared.

I stood up, my hand tracing the square in the wall. I looked her in the eye, “You were right,” her eyes lit up, taking a step forward, “I wanted saving, I hated captivity. But not anymore,” her face dropped, the little color that was on her face left, “Captivity broke my mind, but this linked it with my soul. I’d rather be in captivity than anywhere with you!”

I pushed the square back, smiled, and fell backward. 

My head hit the frame of the door, the world was light again. I heard faint screaming from behind the door. I crawled backward, slamming the door. I stumbled into the kitchen, looking at the time, four-o-clock. 

I walked into the living room, falling onto the couch. I looked around at my cage, watching the rods fall. For the past few months, I had hated the view, but once it changed, it wasn’t so bad.

Birds in captivity can only see to the edge of the greenhouse, humanity can see the stars. The interesting thing about captivity is the fact that we finally get to slow down. 

Captivity only kills when you let it.

Captivity saves.