THE CAGED BIRD

Prologue

She looked into the empty void. Tears made their way down on her pale cheeks, their glistening reflection seen on the glass of her barred window. The window that was part of her personal prison.

Her personal hell. A hell that wasn’t filled by screams, fire and corrupted souls, but was sealed by a dark, empty void.

She could only see loneliness, emptiness, and darkness as she met her own sad, teary eyes.

Nothing of what surrounded her gave her Hope.

She felt like a caged bird. A bird that was meant to fly the high, blue skies, but was trapped like a prized possession for her master to impress others with.

She wanted to explore, venture, and observe the outside world. The freedom that was waiting for her outside, behind the barred windows, was only an illusion. It was like running in a desert chasing the illusion of an oasis, in desperate need of water.

The beautiful garden outside, on the other side of the window of her prison, was her oasis. A heavenly sweetness she met every day to be only taken from her, or better, to remind her it was taken from her.

The hollow and dull eyes of the young woman in front of the window looked longingly for the freedom of the outside world.

She put her hand on the glass tapping her finger against it, hoping it would magically shatter and form a shield around her cage.

Only, if indeed the see - through material would shatter, she was still met by bars.

The little sparrow had only to thank herself for that horrendous addition to her prison. The bird was naïve, thought she could fight against the world which was trapping her.

She did not obtain visible scars from that faithful day, only the bars. The bars were her scars to remind her she was nothing, but a caged bird bonded to her master.

 Chapter 1

The small of acetone was all around me in my bedroom, filling my nose. The smell made me dizzy but there was something calming about painting my nails.

Incredibly careful I held my brush, making sure the paint was brushed in the right places. Sticking my tongue out to help me concentrate. I watched how slowly my vision came to life on my nails. It was a complex design I had picked out, but not impossible. I started painting my nails when I was twelve. I remember how sceptical my father was, but my etiquette teacher said it was would help with my education on how to represent myself.

Therefore, my father obliged.

I picked up my brush one last time and ….finished.

My ten nails had a beautiful pastel pink and stark white gradient with a silver French tip. The silver was too much, fortunately for me I didn’t have my etiquette lessons anymore and my father was busy as always so there was no one there to berate me.

I was proud of my accomplishment. My nails came out perfectly. I wanted to share this accomplishment. A normal teenager would either snap a picture of the nails and share it on social media or wait until the next day and show them off at school to her friends. But I wasn’t a normal teenager.

I made my way down to the kitchen. Maybe Mary was on her brake. I entered the spacious room in the hope of seeing the woman who always kept me company when I felt lonely.

‘Mary?’ I heard a thud and then the old lady made her appearance from behind the kitchen island.

‘Yes, dear?’ Mary grunted.

‘Did you hurt yourself right now, I heard a thud. I’m sorry I did not mean to scare you.’ An apologetic expression settled on my face.

‘It’s alright dear. What is it you wanted to tell me?’ She asked with the infamous friendly smile she had always shown me, no matter what.

‘Look,’ I held my fingers up, ‘I painted my nails.’ I showed her my hands.

‘That looks lovely dear.’ She said tiredly. ‘But if you don’t mind me, Ava, I have to finish this within the next hour. I have to go home early tonight.’

I was disappointed, but I understand. Mary was here to do her job, which was cleaning, not keeping me company. That was one of the many extras she offered whenever she had the time. ‘I’m sorry I did not mean to disturb you,’ I said with hunched shoulders. I had a hard time concealing my disheartened feelings. Being alone all your childhood made you crave any small amount of interaction.

‘Ava, I did not mean to…’

‘It’s alright Mary, maybe father has some time for me.’ With a small pout on my face, I made my way out of the kitchen and headed to my father’s office. I had to climb multiple stairs until I stood in front of the big wooden doors of my father’s workplace.

I knocked three times and waited until I got permission to enter the room. ‘Come in.’ I heard a low voice saying.

The room was quite spacious. It faced the back garden, giving you a lovely view from up here. On the left and right walls were two big bookcases, holding over a dozen books. From time to time, father would give me permission to lend some of the books. It felt like a reward every single time I could read one because there books were either first, second, or special editions.

‘Father?’ I said while stepping into his office.

‘Ava? What are you doing here?’ He asked with a confused face. My father was sitting behind his huge desk. It was well over three meters long. On his desk was a handful of photos displaying.

Most of my mother, who I never met. Next to the photos, there were a couple of books and lastly his computer.

‘I wanted to see how you were doing,’ I said hesitantly.

‘How I am doing?’ He looked back at his screen, not focusing on me any longer.

‘Yes, you know, to talk,’ I said with a smile.

My father no longer looked at his computer and shifted his eyes from the screen to me. A frown settled on his forehead, making deep creases. I know what this meant, nothing good. ‘Ava, you know I have no time for such nonsense and how about your school work shouldn’t you worry about that?

Or your piano lessons, shouldn’t you practice?’

‘I have finished my work and I’m already done with practicing the piano,’ I said in a low voice. ‘But I see you are busy; I will leave you to it.’ My father only nodded at that and went back to work as I exited the room.

I sighed. I wanted to talk to somebody, but who? Then an idea popped up in my head. My brother Xavier. I quickly made my way to the living room where the house phone was. I sat down on the couch and dialled his number. ‘Hello, father?’ I heard from the other side of the line.

‘No, it’s me, your younger sister,’ I said excitedly. I took a strand of hair in my hand and started twirling it.

I heard him sighing. ‘Hello Ava, is there something urgent you have to talk about?’

‘No, not really. I just wanted to talk to you.  How are you doing? When will you come to visit us again? It has been ages since you have been here.’

‘Look, Ava, I really want to talk, but I’m busy. We will talk later, I promise.’ And with that, he hung up before I could say goodbye. ‘We will talk later,’ yeah right. He always said that, but never lived up to that stupid promise.

I pouted. I craved some social contact, but I had no family or friends to talk to. It was just me, my father, and the helpers, including Mary. We also did not have any pets. My father wasn’t a fan of animals and he thought I shouldn’t have one as it would be a bad influence on me. That didn’t discourage me to ask for a cat or dog multiple times, but my father always disagreed. He said it was not ladylike, to own a pet. Whatever that meant.

I looked through the window, the garden was inviting. The problem was I had to ask my father for permission to go outside and he was already in a sour mood. So maybe it was better to not disturb him again.

But if I am quick, he won’t even notice as he is still in his office. A dilemma formed in my mind. Go or not go. I didn’t want to get into trouble but I needed something, anything. So I choose to take the risk. A smile crept on my face, it had been a while since I have been outside. Swiftly, I got my shoes and coat from the foyer.

As I stepped outside, I took a deep breath of the clean air. It was nice outside. The sun was shining high in the sky and there was no trace of any clouds hovering in the blue sea of air. It was the end of spring and the temperature rose and the flowers were fully bloomed.

I made my way to the rose garden and smelled the beautiful flowers. This was my favourite place on our land. It was peaceful here, which always made me happy, no matter how sour my mood was.

The calming sounds of the love songs whistled by the birds and the buzzing of the bees made me relax and made me forget my troubles.

I walked through the garden until I was stopped by someone grabbing my arm. I looked up to see to whom the arm belonged, it was my father. He looked angry. He was fuming, ‘What are you doing here?’ He hissed.

Before I could answer he was already dragging me inside. My feet had a hard time catching up with his long strides. I tried to save myself with meaningless words. Trying to find any excuse for my actions.

Once inside he asked me again. ‘What were you doing in the garden without my permission?’

His hand was still tight around my arm.

I gulped. ‘I - I just wanted to get some fresh air, fffather.’ I finally answered honestly. His face still did not look pleased. His grip on my arm tightened. “You know better than that. As a punishment, you can’t go outside for two weeks that better teach you to go behind my back. Now go to your room!’ He roared.

Upon entering my room, I let myself fall on the bed. I cried. Living here could be so tiresome, so lonely. So infuriating. But there was never room for me to express my feelings, my emotions. Going outside was always my last resort to make myself happy.

With no friends nor family to spend my time with, I considered nature my friend as it never let me down. But even now that could not cheer me up anymore, at least for the next two weeks.

Chapter 2

I was one week in my horrendous punishment. It felt like time went by even slower than usual. As if the world slowed down its spinning. Even my day - to - day routine I usually followed went at a slower pace.

In the morning, my teacher arrived, Mr Wright. He was a man in his sixties who dressed still as if he lived in the fifties. He always wore wide - fitted dress pants with a dress shirt on it and a jumper over it. And every time he came over he had his brown leather suitcase with him, always in his left hand.

We would work until one in the afternoon. Mr Wright had already taught me all the materials to get my high school Matric certificate. Now we discussed topics he was familiar with on a college level. Although it would never be the same as going to college classes.

Then I would have lunch alone in the dining room. It felt useless. Often I opted to eat in the kitchen so wouldn’t be alone and the staff wouldn’t set up the dining table for m. But my father insisted that I eat in the dining room.

When I was done eating, I would join Mary in the kitchen as our chef would teach me a new recipe. My father thought it was important I knew how to cook and therefore was taught by one of the best chefs to make some of the simplest meals taste like fine dining.

By then it would be around three in the afternoon. I would go to the library and play the piano until four and then I had nothing to do anymore. This was my routine, day in and out.

I had already watched all the movies I was allowed to watch, I had done all the hobbies I was allowed to do, which were not interesting anymore, and I could not go outside of the house. I was forbidden to go anywhere outside our borders. The reason why is still not clear to me. Father never wanted to explain that set rule.

I had never been to the movies, to the mall, to the library, or to school. I was very isolated from the world and because of that, I had no friends to keep myself busy with. I had never gossiped before or had a fight with somebody. Not even with my brother.

I never could consider my big brother as a friend. He was ten twenty five years older and by the time I was old enough to play with him, he was already in the army. Xavier was always busy, either with studying or with our father. He had to make my brother ready to take over the “business”. Still to this day, I had no idea what he meant by that. I had asked multiple times what kind of business my father owned, but he never gave me a clear answer to that question either. The very same way as he always dodged the question of why I could not leave the premises.

I was always left wondering.

Today I skipped practicing my piano exercises, I did not feel like playing as I felt quite blue today. I sat in front of my bedroom window which showed me the front yard. As I was looking at the birds flying outside, having the time of their lives, I saw a car making its way to our driveway. But it was not some unknown car, it was my brother’s car.

A smile settled on my face. It had been months since he had visited us.  I ran to the foyer to wait for him.

Just as I stepped down the last steps of the stairs, the door was opened for my brother, ‘Xavier!’ I ran up to him and gave him a big bear hug.

The sound of chuckles was echoing in the large hall. ‘It’s good to see you too, little sister.’ I backed away and showed him a toothy grin.

‘Ava!’ That is not how a proper lady welcomes her brother.’ My father scolded me. ‘How old do you think you are? You are acting like a toddler.’

My smile faltered, my head hanging low. I stepped further back so my father could greet my brother.

‘She is just happy to see me, father,’ Xavier said while giving him a hand that was their way of greeting each other. A distant and somewhat cold greeting.

‘Yes, but a lady does not let her emotions influence her behaviour. I thought she had enough etiquette lessons, but maybe I should hire somebody to re - educate her.’ My father mused.

Please, please, please Xavier, help me, I pleaded in my head. Those etiquette lessons were even more boring than dying of boredom. With a pleading look on my face, I begged my brother to help me.

‘I think it was a slip - up, nothing to get too worried about.’ My brother said. I looked at him, showing how grateful I was for his words. He chuckled as a response to my thankful demeanour.

‘I suppose so.’ My father mumbled.

Both men started to make their way to the formal living room. Just when we were about to enter the room, my father turned around. ‘Ava, go to your room. I have some business to discuss with your brother.’

As always I was being dismissed the minute my Xavier stepped into the house.

A small sigh escaped from my lips, as I turned around, disappointed I couldn’t speak to my brother after months of not seeing him and short phone calls with empty promises we would talk soon.

I stopped up the steps of the stairs as I made my way to my bedroom. I sat on the couch, trying to read a book to make time go by faster. It was easier said than done. The said book had been lying on my bedside table for three months and I didn’t seem to get any further with it.

I could not concentrate. Especially knowing my brother was downstairs.

I had missed my brother and I wanted to see him. I looked at the clock and it said six in the evening. I had to wait another thirty minutes before dinner was being served.

I paced, I sat, and I laid down, to keep myself busy.

Then finally it was five minutes before half past six. With a smile, I made my way to the dining room. Upon entering I saw both my father and brother were not present yet. I sighed but let this not determine my delighted mood, I could wait for a few minutes, so I could dine with my brother.

Exactly at six - thirty, the servants made their way into the dining room, setting up the servants made their way into the dining room, setting up the dinner for the evening. Unfortunately, I saw it was for one person.

‘Pardon? Why are you not setting up dinner for three?’ I asked politely.

‘We were instructed you were to eat alone. Master and the young mister are dining in the home office.’ A young man answered my questions. My happiness crumbled down. ‘Oh okay, thank you.’ I mumbled.

My appetite was gone. For thirty minutes I played with my food. Now knowing for sure they were not coming down, I left the room. I quickly visited the kitchen to see if Mary was still there, but she had already left.

Again, I spent the evening alone. Like always….