Denial's Not Just a Feeling

My Little Birdy

                The wind blew softly through her hair. The girl giggled and tossed it over her shoulders. She looked around and whistled. A small birdy landed on the sidewalk in front of her. She smiled. She stopped beside the birdy. It was red with orange stripes. She gawked at it. She squatted to pick it up, but it jumped away from her and started in the direction she was going towards. She giggled with the bright smile of hers and followed it.

                She squatted again, but it hopped away again. It did that several more times. She huffed and tried again. It avoided her with grace and ease. It intrigued her. She never saw such an exotic birdy like it before.

                She stayed in her crouched position. A more powerful breeze from behind her pushed her hair into her face. She pushed her hair behind her ears, shocked at the pair of shoes that stood in front of her—black and neatly polished. She looked up at a handsome man with the exotic birdy on his shoulder. He wore black dress pants and a green button-up with the first two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows neatly. She was gawking.

                He offered her a kind smile and stuck out his hand. She took it as heat rushed to her face. She returned it uneasily and re-adjusted her backpack straps. “I see you have found an interest in my bird,” he spoke with a thick accent, gazing into her eyes. British?

                She nodded staring into his dark blue pools. “It’s a very beautiful bird. What kind is it?”

                He ignored the question still smiling. “Would you like to hold him?”

                “Sure.”

                The birdy flew to her opened hands and landed with such grace. She smiled and carefully stroked its wings with her thumb. She was gapping again. The birdy’s electric orange eyes stared up at her. She stared back frozen. Her thumb stopped stroking the wings and her knees buckled under her. She felt the man catch her before she hit the cemented sidewalk and carry her bridal-style somewhere. The birdy landed on her chest keeping her in a daze.

                She didn’t notice her backpack taken off of her or her body being gently placed on a leather made material or a hand starting to gently stroke her hair. Her eyelids felt heavier than ever. So, she gave into the sleepiness calling her.

                When she finally woke up, she found herself in a dimly lit room. She blinked looking around. A light hung from the ceiling, the tan walls were bare of anything—even windows!—, her backpack sat limply next to the door at the wall in front of her. She tried sitting up on what she assumed was a mattress, but she was pulled back down. She moaned. Something metal was restricting her. A light blanket covered her neck to her feet. But a small hump was made in the blanket enough for her to look down.

                All of her clothes were there thankfully, but metal rings held her wrist, abdomen, waist, knees and ankles to the bed. She widened her eyes when the door opened. She looked up.

                The man she saw on the sidewalk with the exotic birdy walked to the side of the bed without closing the door. He grinned down at her and ran a thumb down her cheek closest to him delicately. “I was starting to think you would never awaken, my little birdy.” He gazed into her eyes lovingly, but with a glint of something else in his eyes. She pursed her lips as he ran his thumb over them. “Oh, my little birdy, don’t be afraid. You’re safe now.” He nodded running his thumb over her collar bone then over her shoulder nearest to him.

                She gulped down the lump in her throat. “Safe from what?” Her voice shook, dangerously high.

                “Oh! Shhh. Shhh. Don’t be frightened. Here your dreaded, harmful boyfriend could not hurt you.”

                “Hurt me?” She scrunched her eyebrows. He ran his thumb over them. “He never hurt me. He loves me and I love him.”

                He froze. His jaw clenched, his body stiff, his face hard. “He does not know love for a sick seventeen asshole,” he snapped, his voice harsh and full of venom. She cringed. He sighed softening at her movement and repeated the stroking. “I didn’t mean to scare you, my little birdy. I have just been waiting for the right time to rescue you and make you mine.”

                “Huh?”

                He sighed again. “I realize you’re confused, but you are mine and safe here.”

                “I’m not yours!” She screeched and contorted her face in disgust. “You’re like thirty. I’m only fifteen!”

                “Twenty-two,” he lowered his voice out of annoyance. “You are mine whether you like it or not.”

                “Hell no!” She glared at him.

                “I can have what I want!” He raised his left hand—fisted—and made contact with her left eye. She started screaming and thrashing around trying to get out of the metal rings. His eyes widened in horror. “You-you made me do it, bitch! Stop screaming!” She continued to scream with her eyes shut now. “Stop it, stop it!” He bitch slapped her which seemed to shut her up. She whimpered staring up at him with glassy eyes. He glared down at her. “I wouldn’t have to resort to violence if you have just been kind like I was.”

                The exotic birdy flew into the room and again landed on her chest. She whimpered again. Her eyes locked with the birdy. Her body froze. Everything felt heavy. The room started spinning. Her eyelids felt heavy again with the call of sleepiness claiming her body. She blinked and slowly closed her eyes with one last look at the birdy fluttering closed its own eyelids.

                “Goodnight my little birdy.”