Be Free

I watched as he headed closer and closer towards the edge. He turned around to look at me, and then he began to speak. The tongue he spoke in was a clashing melody that included jilting notes, a steady crescendo, and abrupt rests. I didn’t comprehend a thing he said, but part of me was filled with dread.

I had seen this before, this darkness.

A dirty barren cell. A glorified hole in the wall, affectionately called a window. A thick wooden door with a small opening. Rusted chains on the floor. Decaying rat bones.

Oh, I knew his darkness.

A crystal cell. A snow-white cot by a window too high to see out of. Outside, only sea and sky. A needle, some coloured fluid. An echoing silence. A deafening quiet.

I saw his darkness.

A war-torn field. Carnage everywhere. A woman screaming. A baby crying. A sky ashen with thunder clouds. Birthplace of despair.

He looked back at the world down below. I always believed he had wings, but he never used them.

He jumped.

And I knew he never would.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s