Birdcage

“Do you ever wonder what it would feel like to fly?”

Evelyn’s green eyes are fixated on the smoke-choked charcoal sky, lips parted in fascination. Her fiery hair and energetic tone are the only bright things on this dull housing block. On either side of the pathway, identical structures rise from dry strips of dirt, and the familiar scent of burning oil fills our noses. Not a soul is to be seen, save the occasional vehicle inching down the asphalt street.

My cousin has always been obsessed with the regions above. For years she has talked about the possibilities of what lies over our heads. She has spouted constant speculations about the identity of the mysterious light that occasionally bursts through the cloud cover, and has had daydreams about somehow becoming the first “explorer of the sky”.

For a long time I’ve hoped it was just a phase, but she doesn’t seem to grow out of it. Her parents have tried everything to cure her unquenchable curiosity, to stifle her upward-bound urges. The town thinks she’ll bring disaster upon us all. I can’t quite say I disagree with them.

It’s dangerous business, dreaming of the sky.

Evelyn finally tears her gaze away from whatever she finds so fascinating and looks at me. Her wild auburn hair whips around her face as a gust of wind sweeps past us, sending a chill down my back. I rub the goosebumps from my arms and shy away from her intense gaze.

“I can’t say I have,” I inform her.

I don’t tell her that I think she ought to not wonder about such things either, but then she’d go silent for the rest of the walk home. I like having someone to talk to after long, tiring days, and Evelyn is the only one I can really talk to, after all. She’s different. She goes deeper.

“Well, I think it would be something like sailing,” she says breathlessly, tugging on her satchel strap. “I think it would be like gliding across the water, smooth and free and lovely. You wouldn’t worry about speed limits or rules, you’d just go at your own pace. You could be yourself. I think it would be amazing.”

I grimace and focus on my feet as they trudge along the concrete path. The way she’s talking is disturbing, like she’s been thinking about this a lot. It isn’t safe. But I struggle to find a way to discourage her from it. It’s her passion. She loves it so much.

“Maybe it would be,” I say noncommittally, refusing to look at her.

Evelyn comes to an abrupt stop. I go a few paces before realizing that she’s no longer at my side. When I turn to her, she has her arms crossed, a fiercely determined look on her face. Her wings loom behind her, their shocking crimson color standing out against the constant grey.

The town sometimes whispers that the red in her appearance is a foreshadowing of the blood she will shed. I can’t quite say the thought hasn’t occurred to me.

“You don’t believe me,” Evelyn accuses.

I raise my hands in defense, feeling a prickle of discomfort form between my shoulder blades. Evelyn starts blinking her eyes in rapid succession like she does when she gets upset. Before I can say anything, she continues furiously.

“You think that I’m crazy, to be thinking those things. You think that I’m being ridiculous to believe that maybe we should be allowed to see what’s above our heads.”

Evelyn jabs a finger towards the sky. She takes a step towards me, her eyes wild. I flinch and back up, my discomfort curling into dread.

“Listen, Ev--” I start before she cuts me off.

“No, you listen, Forrest!” she cries, her emerald eyes moistening with tears.

My heart is pounding in my chest, and I fight the urge to flee. She has never acted this way before. I don’t know what to do to calm her down, and soon she’ll attract the attention of the Caretaker cameras.

“All my life, I’ve wanted to do something no one’s done before.”

Her voice is unsteady, cracking at the edges. Her emotions have taken hold, which is exactly what we aren’t supposed to allow to happen.

“And all my life, I’ve been told that that is not what a proper citizen strives to do. I’ve tried to hold back the ideas, Forrest. I really have.”

She takes a shuddering breath. Another gust of wind yanks at her hair and feathers, and my own wings prickle from the chill.

I observe her cautiously, my arms slack at my sides. Unresponsive.

Her voice is pleading, softening to almost a whisper. “You’ve got to believe me, Forrest. Sometimes I want to get out of here so badly it feels like I’ll die.” Her lips press together as her eyelids flutter at me.

“I’ve been having these dreams. Ones where our wings are...different.”

My breath hitches in my throat. Flying, wings, the sky...all of it is so insane. Everyone knows that we belong on the ground. We do not fly. It is against all that the Caretakers have taught us.

And yet, Evelyn has never been one to be easily satisfied.

Evelyn raises her face to the sky yet again and breathes in deeply, her arms lifted from her sides. She speaks with her eyes closed.

“I dream that I spread my wings, like...this.” Her wings slowly unfurl from her back, stretching out to their full span of two meters. The elegant tip feathers spread out like fingers.

My stomach clenches at her actions. This is wrong. She’s going against one of the most critical rules of society.

We do not unfold our wings. We do not dream of the sky. We do not fly.

I stretch my hand out to her, panic rising in my chest.

“Ev, don’t!”

My voice rises in pitch as I see the Caretaker cameras on the light poles turn towards us, red lights flashing as they record our every movement. They’ll be here soon. I’m failing to stop my cousin from destroying everything.

“I dream that I start moving them. I dream that they start flapping so fast that they catch the air and soon my feet lift right off of the ground...”

Her eyes are still closed, a dreamy look melting over her features. Ev’s wings start to beat back and forth, stirring the polluted air around us.

I gasp and throw my satchel to the ground, bolting towards her. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. The Caretakers will save her. They can make her right.

My hand lashes out to grab her by the arm, and I’m surprised by how warm her skin is, despite the weather. My dark feathers and short hair ruffle in the currents as her wings continue to swing up down up down. Her toes begin to rise from the concrete.

“I dream that my wings carry me through the smoke and to the light I know lies beyond the clouds...”

My hands shake as I tighten my grip, fighting her as she struggles to drift away. The sirens of approaching Caretaker vehicles cut through the foggy silence of the housing block, sending a stab of mixed emotions through me. When they get here, they’ll fix her. The Caretakers will make it all go away.

I should be relieved, but all I can feel is dread at their arrival.

Evelyn finally opens her eyes and looks at me, her features taking on a sort of angelic calm. Her wings keep beating the air, the crimson feathers brushing my sides as I struggle to keep her anchored where she belongs. The sirens’ screams pound into my temples.

“Let go, Forrest,” she whispers, her green eyes burrowing into my soul.

“I can’t, Ev,” I cry out, my emotions finally boiling out of control. I dig my nails into her arm, my knees quaking with exhaustion and fear. “Come down before you get hurt!”

“I need to do this, Forrest. You should join me, someday.”

A strange warm feeling gathers in my throat, making my wings twitch and my eyes widen. I don’t know what I’m feeling, but I know that it’s wrong.

I think I’m wanting to fly.

Evelyn turns her face heavenward, straining to be free. She’s too strong, too determined. If I don’t let go, she may even pull me from the ground. With a sob tearing at my throat, I break my hold on her. I watch helplessly as my cousin’s slender form rises into the thick atmosphere. Her wings seem to glisten as they pull her to her dreams.

I want to throw up.

I want to be up there with her.

Horror coursing through my veins, I snatch my black wing tips and hug them to my sides. I cannot be thinking these things. I am a good citizen. I am a loyal citizen. We do not unfold our wings. We do not dream of the sky.

We do not fly.

Shuddering uncontrollably, I sink to the cold ground and numb my mind with the sounds of the sirens. I have my neck craned upwards, watching Evelyn's ascension, when the tires of the Caretaker vehicles screech to a halt in front of me.

I’m blind to the winged people streaming from their gray houses to watch the rebellious young girl begin to break through the clouds. I’m numb to the gasps of horror and shouted curses. I’m fighting to keep my wings pinned to my sides. I’m struggling not to cry.

I’m still tracking Evelyn’s crimson figure high above when the Caretakers stand besides me. When they ask me if I was the witness at the scene, all I can think about is the lies I have been telling myself, that the Caretakers have been telling me. How Evelyn was the only one who knew the truth.

I’ve been deceiving myself by denying my wings their one purpose. I do want to join her.

I do want to fly.

But when the Caretakers take aim, and when Evelyn’s fiery hair spreads out beside me, and when her wings crumple with a crunch against the ground, I make one last realization.

Maybe dreams are meant to fall.