You Broke The Rules

“She’s gone.”

Fuck.

I swear in my head. I glance around the back alleyways between the night-time rush of traffic.

Where is she. It’s already been more than a few hours past the usual time.

She’s no where to be seen. Not even the chittering of rats could be heard in the deafening silence that ensued as my mind began to swell.

What happened to her? Does it even matter? Why am I even worried about her?

The biting cold of the moon directly over my head pours down upon me in gusts of wind. I huddle in a corner not too far from the garbage dump she told me to meet her next to, tightening my arms around my legs to escape the sharp stab of vile wind.

“What do I do…” My throat begins to clog.

I wore a white one-piece that looks more like pajamas than a dress. The strap on my left shoulder is barely hanging on, and the hems of the skirt have become frayed beyond fixing.

I steel my nerves and force my tears back into my chest, closing my eyes in preparation for a brutal night of hibernation.

I think back to my father—when he was still around—and I remember the answer I gave him when he asked about freedom.

“I want to fly.” A faint, blurry memory plays through my retina.

It’s white, all white. Like a camera that’s had too much exposure.

Through the glare, a pair of wings—as white as an angels’—appeared through the light, unfurling themselves leaving behind traces feathers that followed in it’s wake.

It lasted no more than a few seconds, but the warm, soothing touch of skin I felt, and the light, airy smell of clouds was unmistakably real.

It was like a vision.

The stench of the garbage reaches me, and snaps me out of delusion just as soon as their voices do,

“Hey! Look what I found!” the undeveloped sound of a boy, no more than the age of 10.

I point my eyes up to see a rugged face and dark brown hair that stops right before his eye-level. He looked about 2 years my senior.

“I can’t believe you caught one!”

“We’re gonna be rich!” Two other boys, one after the other voiced their opinions as they stood by the older boys’ sides.

“You've got to be fucking with me” I whimpered, sounding stronger than I felt.

“Hmm?” The boy tilted his head curiously. “What do you mean. You broke the rules.” He glared at me “That’s more than enough reason for punishment, isn’t it?”

Punishment.

It's a fancy word for death.

But I can’t stop them.

My memories flashed through my eyes. My mother, my father. My freedom. Why did father leave? Why did he leave me with a deadbeat mother? Why did he throw me into this cage. Where everybody must be the same.

The truth is I know what they’re going to do with me. I know where they are taking me, and the kind of treatment rule-breakers receive.

It’s just that… if it were going to end like this. If I was going to be punished, if I was going to die here, I might as well be happy for my life thus far.

It was injustice. It was unfair. But I knew this was going to happen the moment I broke the rules of this city. The moment I set foot outside its boundaries.

Perhaps my mother had already been hung today for her relationship to me. Perhaps our family was fated to end on this night.

I might as well fly just a bit, even if it means gliding on the ground like a chicken—it was still flight.

My chest tightened and squeezed until it felt like I was going to blow up. I grabbed it with my hand took in a sharp breath. I squinted my eyes, and a gush of tears poured out of my retinas as a pen ultimate, soaking face completely.

I’m scared.

…

I don’t want to do this.

…

Please.

I begged. But the words never came out of my mouth.

Instead, with the willpower that was enough to move mountains, I struggled with my head as I looked up and stared the boy dead in the eye. My eyes were shivering with fear, just looking at him made my body instinctively flinch away and protect itself.

The two other boys grabbed my arms and pinned them behind my back. They were going to take me away any second now. I squeezed my legs together as best I could.

Still staring into his eyes, my head became light as thoughts flew into my mind. Gritting my teeth and squeezing my fists into tight balls I let my legs go limp on the floor, and the corner of my lips shot up.

I smiled, to the face of my punishment. In the face of brutality. In the face of death. Because in the end.

“This was my choice.” I whispered like a prayer before going to war. 

This was what little freedom I could muster for myself.