Wrapped in Bandages

Seeming to Live in a Cage

Twisting the crystal knob, she opened the pastel colored door and entered her room. Closing the door behind her, she glanced at her window that gave no sight before looking around her familiar space. Her room was rather simple. One wooden bookshelf, painted in the hue of light blue, held various books that would help pass the time and rested near the door. A wooden four-post light blue bed with pale purple sheets pushed itself against the wall to her right. Lying back against the purple pillows was a blue bear. Moreover, a blue dresser and blue desk resided in the room. Next to the dresser, which was against the wall to her left, was a pastel colored door leading to a bathroom. Illuminating the room was a small light-purple flower-shaped lamp, which was placed on top of the desk.

Moving over to the desk that was against the wall opposite the door, she pulled open the topmost left drawer and took out a sharpened pencil. It had little daisies on it and was currently her favorite. After taking out a sheet of paper from the topmost right drawer, which also held her sketchpad, she pulled out the blue wooden chair that had a purple cushion on it and sat down. Her left fingers grasped the pencil and moved it across the paper, as time passed by.

Occasionally, she would look at the window, since the desk rested beneath it. She imagined what the outside looked like but never felt tempted to pull the blinds up and try to see beyond the tinted glass. What good would it do her? Images of trees and streams appeared on her piece of paper, or at least what she thought they looked like. All she could do was utilize what she had learned from the books on her singular shelf. Her fingers stopped moving the pencil, though, as her mind went blank. The image of an owl escaped her.

Sighing lightly, she pushed her chair back. It moved slowly due to the friction caused from the off-white carpet. Finally getting up, she walked over to the bookshelf but stopped on her way. Her eyes peered up at the calendar that hung above the dresser. There was a flower drawn on a specific date, the seventeenth to be exact. Unlike in the case of her name, she felt this day was right. In just a few days, she would turn that age. It wasn't the most exciting of days, though; rather the pink flies just seemed to get louder. They wished her well, but it sounded like empty loud noise to her ears. If they really meant their words, then their eyes wouldn't be so clouded. She would receive a visit from her mother, and they would eat cake. This interaction lasted about fifteen minutes and was filled with bland conversation, yet it was nicer than the noise of the pink flies.

Casting her eyes away from the calendar, she returned to her task of looking up the owl. Her delicate right fingers ran over the bindings of the various books on the shelf and stopped on one. Its cover in the hue of dark blue, she went to pull it down when the door to her room opened slowly. Grey eyes lazily focusing their gaze in that general vicinity, she saw the figure of a boy a year older than her enter the room. He closed the door behind him, as his blue eye focused on her.

The boy went by the name of Chance and had bandages covering his right eye. He never explained why he went blind in the one eye to her, but she didn't press him on the issue. As for his hair that was short, it was a light brown and framed his face loosely. Bangs covered his bandages and blue eye slightly. Regarding his height, he stood at about six feet. Thus, he towered over Dez's meager five feet and two inches. Moreover, he always seemed to have a white button-up and black pants on. Black dress shoes covered his feet.

Currently, his characteristic outfit matched her clothes' color pattern. A plain black dress that flared towards the bottom covered her, while black tights went over her legs and feet. In her hair on the right side of her head was a simple white bow.