Two little birds flew around outside.
Unchained
Freedom was the only word that came to mind as I watched them.
They seemed to play a game of chase, for one would always follow the other.
I saw the bigger one follow the other around, then they'd stop, and the smaller one would give chase.
I never knew birds played a game of 'it' as well.
Several times, they'd leave my sight but would return. This went on, and I was deeply invested in their continuous cycle.
Once again, they disappeared, and after some time, flew past the window. It took longer this time before only one came back.
It looked around, and I knew it was searching for its partner. It searched and waited for its partner that would never return.
I took my gaze off it, focusing on the blooming roses that were in a vase on the windowsill.
"That's you," the voice came whispering in my ear.
I turned but realized I was alone. My mother had left the room silently.
I felt relief. If she were here, then I wouldn't need to worry, but looking at the birds... I'm not free.
"You couldn't change my decision," the voice was solid now. To my right, I now saw a slight depression on the bed beside me.
In no time, a figure faded into existence, like a ghost that just came to life.
There she was.
She had her legs pulled up to her chest with her chin resting on her knees.
Her red hair glinted in the sun's rays that filtered through the window and fell on her.
The orange-coloured edges made her hair look like fire.
She wore a tight-fitted black turtleneck, the one we each had, a black skirt with laced edges, black leggings—an outfit that highlighted her alluring figure.
She had no footwear, and the shackle on her left leg, I saw as I looked at her bare foot, reminded me of things—secrets I could never speak of.
One of our many secrets
"We failed it," she spoke in a monotone. I wanted to ask what she meant, but she continued to speak.
"I never wanted this. No, I had no choice, and that is all I had to do. It was destiny."
She was silent for a while, so I took that as my opportunity to ask, "What do you mean?" but she seemed not to hear me.
"You didn't have to. You weren't supposed to become one of us, but you did. We are just his toys, his playthings, and he's just going to use us all to do as he pleases. A good soul like yours, and you still chose that…"
Her voice trailed off, and her words hung there.
Heavy.
She now turned her head to face me, resting her right cheek on her knee.
I noticed her black-painted lips then as she observed my face. She only wore black, white, or red, the favorite colors of both hers and mine.
She always painted her lips red and only used black rarely, like today, which troubled me.
So she notices me, I thought as I stared into her eyes.
I looked into that face that looked too perfect to exist.
It was as if nature had spent a year perfecting her face, until 'beautiful' felt like an understatement.
She smiled a little, almost a mirrored version of my mother's, then unfurled her arms from around her legs and moved closer to me. She wrapped her arms around me from the side, leaning her body against mine with her forehead resting on my shoulder.
Warmth.
But Cold.
"We'll fight this off, right?" she spoke into my shoulder, then raised her head to face me.
She let go of me and rose till her face was right before mine, then she held my face delicately with her hands, which felt cold to the touch.
"I believe you," she said, and I caught a glimpse of a sharp fang.
She moved closer to my face but paused, and I understood she wanted my eyes closed. That's how she always preferred it—our eyes closed.
I felt her cold, soft lips on mine, a feeling I could never get tired of.
I decided to open my eyes, and she looked even more beautiful when closer, when devouring.
I found myself raising my hands to hold her. The kiss didn't last long before she pulled back.
I felt her slip through my hands as she started to fade away. This wasn't Lily, just her essence. Was she on a mission?
The door opened, and my mother entered with someone in tow.
I just stared blankly ahead, and the cold feeling still lingered on my lips. That was all I could feel as I answered the questions the doctor asked me.
My mother sat on the chair beside my bed with her eyes glued on me, her expression I could not tell.
It took us over an hour before everything was set for us to leave.
The sun warmed me once we stepped out of the hospital, and I looked up at the bright sky, knowing it was around noon. I checked my watch, but something was wrong; I could feel it.
The watch was a relic from her, a very rare one only I could use.
The analog watch was made of black metal, but the piece wasn't the slightest bit lustrous. It was as if it absorbed all the light.
Its face was a silver color and contained a crystal clear liquid with silver specks within that were placed at the respective hours of the day. Two larger red specks acted as the minute and hour hands of the clock.
I could now strongly feel that something was missing from it—the arrow that showed where she was. I hoped it was because she was on a mission.
"She's not coming. Not this time, not today." I mused, but something felt wrong, though I was probably overthinking it. As I often did.
Living in ignorance was the one thing I had come to dislike, for you could never know the importance of that which you did not know, until you finally knew what you were never supposed to know.
I heard an ambulance, blaring its sirens, suddenly go silent. Someone was dead.
"Exactly what happened, Mom? It…bothers me." I forced the last part out, afraid to put her in worry.
As I looked at her, she smiled and offered to take the small bag of drugs I had from the hospital. I reluctantly gave in, and she carefully took them from me.
"Why don't we talk about that on our way home?" she said and took a step forward, knowing that I'd follow her.