Blackbird

        I remember when I first saw her; it was at an opening for a new avian science museum.  After they cut the velvet ribbon they ushered every one in to show off their prized exhibit. We were hurried along into a big open room with one massive object covered in a purple tarp, stitched up in some areas with black thread.  I wanted to leave and go home but at the same time I was curious and as the announcer whispered that the creature was unusually rare and that flash photography was allowed, that surprised me. I pushed to the front, people grumbling about rude teenage boys, I ignored it and hit the tip of my converse on the ground. The announcer closed up his speech and stepped aside with his arm out, the purple tarp raised slowly revealing a heap of what looked like to be twine and branches, people smashed up against the cage, the guards whistling at anyone getting to close then giving up and letting people grab the bars and peer their little noses through. At first I saw nothing but a dark mass in the midst of all the twine and branches but then something tensed and untensed and slowly sat up. The audience gasped as the creature stood up, wobbling onto its dainty feet. She was clothed in a loose fitting black frock and rubbed her hand over her arm nervously. She had the creamiest skin, a smooth caramel color; her hair was the darkest ebony. It was short and messy and almost hid her fiery almond eyes to where you could just hardly see the fear in them. She bit her pink lip and flinched at the obnoxiously bright flash from the first camera shot.
        That one burst of light, triggered many others and the girl shielded her eyes and cowered away. I was about to shout out to the causes of her obvious pain but then I heard a rustling noise and many more gasps. I looked back over to see the small frame of the girl crouched down, hiding behind a massive pair of silky black wings. More cameras flashed and the wings tensed around her face, disappointing me. I wished they would all just leave so I could hear her voice. I bet it's light and soft like little bells.  I heard her whine softly and gripped the bars; I don't know what has come over me I just feel this horrible urge to scream. There's a song and it's soft and gentle in my head, I hurl myself at the cage needing desperately to be with her. Her hands tightly covered her head and she shook, the guards ran over as I started screaming. She whimpered more and hit her head scooting away from me. I heard her murmur,  
        "Stopit, stop. No more I want to stop." She growled as the guards started pulling me away. I kicked my legs and bit them. The one I bit yowled and hit me over the head causing black to spot my vision. She threw her arms at he side and let out barely a screech, but it was piercing. It echoed through the room and seemed inhuman, the guards stopped, the cameras and people stopped. Everything stopped. She stood up and scampered over to the side of the cage where I was, she reached her arm out and whined. I ripped away from the guards and she grabbed my arm with her small hand. She was shaking as she tried to get her other arm through, I saw her glassy citrus eyes and grabbed her hands in mine and kissed them.  One tear spilt over down her cheek, she closed her eyes and sank to the floor, and I knelt beside her.  I reached inside the cage and touched her face; I lifted her chin and smiled at her. She smiled back and put one of her little hands on top of mine and nuzzled into it. She stretched out her wings and it was truly amazing, I saw that the tips of the wings poked out of the cage slightly. Then my smile faded,
"You're trapped." I said to her. Her eyes averted down and she nodded; tightening her grip on my hand. Another tear dripped down her face. It pained me to see her like this, and in my stupor I reached into my jacked pocket and pulled out a small knife; the pocketknife my mother had given me for Christmas that year. I slowly reached into the cage and plopped it into her hand, squeezing her fingers to disguise it, she wrapped her hand into a fist around it and smiled at me. A tear ran down my face as well. I let go of her hands and stood up, the guards immediately snapped out of their blunder and dragged me away, the people bustled and gossiped as I watched her small frame get smaller and smaller. She looked relived, and clutched the pocketknife to her chest and smiled at me. Her lips formed the words, 'thank you'.
        That next morning I turned on the news to the first report saying that the new "blackbird girl wonder" was dead. In her hand she clutched a small pocketknife. Writing in her crimson thoughts by her body were the words, "Blackbird fly". I sighed and turned off the newscast.
                "You were only waiting for this moment to be free"