The Beginning: Chapter 1

TAP–TAP–TAP!
TAP–TAP–TAP!

I hear the bird tapping at my window...

I try to ignore her, but the sound of her dragging her beak along the bars is unbearable. It sends shivers down my spine.

-“Go away! I’m trying to fucking think!” I scream at her with my mind. It’s a waste of time; she won’t listen to me.

-"Sister? Sister--are you there?"

Her insistent chirping echoes through my mind; my head is pounding.

-“Not yet, Griselda. Soon enough.”

-“When? I hate this feeling of being trapped.”

-“You’re tellin’ me? You’re free to come & go as you wish!”

-“We need to really spread our wings. I’m tethered here as long as you are.”

-“I’m workin’ on it Gris....”

She chirps in approval, & hops off the window ledge. She spreads her ebony wings, dancing on the breeze as it carries her into the darkness. She is gone, as quickly as she appeared.


.....


Griselda is the closest friend I’ve ever had; never have I connected with another as I have with her. Meeting Griselda is the most incredible thing that has ever happened to me...

However, nothing is without it’s consequences, & even our friendship has it’s price. If Griselda had been a human girl, my parents would have rejoiced to the Heavens that their freaky daughter had found a friend! The fact that she is a bird, a raven, to be exact, is pretty much what landed me in this prison...


I’ve been trapped here against my will for months. “Here” is the Peaceful Springs Rehabilitation Home for the Mentally Ill”. I’m Zoe. I’m also just under 18–so I have no fucking rights! I am most certainly NOT fucking crazy, but how do you convince your boring, middle class, suburbanite parents that it is completely normal for you to talk to animals?! Well, not completely normal, but I’ve been able to converse with the creatures of the world since before I could even talk! I’ve always embraced it; it’s a gift...

This is the one thing that's always made me feel..."special". Not "short bus" special...but extraordinary. Rare. Not like all the half dead sheep that shuffle down the street in a trance...stumbling along...shuffling through their day. Working meaningless jobs they secretly loathe, running errands that are inconsequential...pretending to "interact" with people who's names they don't even remember. Paying bills. Buying clothes that further their "masks". Hiding. Pretending.

I've never pretended. I can see just beneath the surface. Tiny creatures whisper in my mind--things no one has ever even considered before. This is me...but they've locked me away for that. Being true to myself. If I'm not careful--they'll lock me in a dim, padded room, & throw away the fucking key. & everyone will forget all about Zoe the freak.

I remember...when I was little--I used to tell my parents how Charlie was feeling today. Charlie was our golden retriever. We always seemed to be together those days; he watched over me. How amazed I was, when I discovered that I could hear him! "Little One"--he called me. My parents, however, simply thought I had a "healthy imagination." Which basically means--they ignored me.

As I grew, my "gift" flourished. Creatures of all sorts flocked to me; they were drawn to me. I was a magnet. My parents were bewildered by the raccoons in the garage...& the birds in the attic. They must've called the exterminators out at least a dozen times...they never did get rid of the rats & mice.

My parents--who "only wanted me to be happy"--encouraged me to make friends. They were "just so worried about me". I already had all the friends I needed. I have friends anywhere I go. My own personal guard..."the creatures" have always had my back. But my folks--they got it into their heads that i was "anti-social". I was depressed. I needed to get more "involved" in things. Yeah--that was the answer. They signed me up for everything under the sun...as long as my "peers" were involved. First it was community service. Then it was the "youth group" that their church sponsored. If it would get their "weird daughter' out of the house, the decision was already made; I was joining it.

But it didn't matter. They'd drop me off at the door, & as soon as the Buick pulled away, I was out the door. & then my day belonged to me. None of the kids wanted me around anyways. Most of them were scared to death of me; they thought I was a witch.

The others....well, the ones that weren't terrified of me...they tortured me....