Madness

Feathers. An incredible amount of red, soft feathers, lying on little mountains of dust and ashes. She can’t walk around her room; it’s invaded.

It’s been years since she put her first step on this place, and she rarely moved a finger since then. Darkness grew up and started to bite her skin, but it seems she doesn’t realize. It seems she doesn’t realize of anything. She’s like a white sculpture of a crazy angel. Her wings are splendid, enormous, but her eyes haven’t any colour at all. During non-ending days she whispered like wind running through forests. She was praying for a saviour, but she didn’t get any response. What a poor creature... She’s waiting for someone to save her, and no one will come. No one can save her, but herself.

But she ignored that, and so she lost her will to shine again. There was no one in her childhood to speak about her wings, there was no one to teach her how to fly. So she get caged; too easily. Like a butterfly in the net. Her world turned to ash, her horizons to walls. A jail was built around her soul, and the feathers of her wings started to fall. Slowly, silently. New feathers grew up as old ones fell down, and the floor was filled with them quickly. Only the light could melt darkness and stop the feathers’ fall, but now she hates the Sun.

There’s no escape from her mind.
There will be no opportunity for the wings to fly anymore.

Someone knocks at the door again. A woman who wears a sweet smile enters the room. She brings a cup of hot soap, a glass of water, some bread and a piece of chocolate. After putting them on the desk, she looks at the little girl with velvet in her eyes. But the little girl doesn’t look at her. A small tear falls down singing a sad song, while the sunset gives its last shine behind the walls.