The cage was too small. It was always too small for me to spread my wings and fly away. My leather and velvet dress felt good against my skin, my wedding dress. Why did they have to come then? A mere second before I said "I do" My groom could do nothing as they took me. The strange flying machines these wingless creatures put me in nearly deafened me. And I was alone, so alone.
My name is Clarissa. I was the princess of an angel tribe, at least that's what we called it. I was about to marry the prince of a neighboring tribe, but I was torn away from him at the last second. I am 16 years old, and I'm trapped in a cage, in a place where there's no privacy, no peace, no one who comes along without calling me "Birdie" or "Bird" I hate them. I hate them all. They who brought me here, they who locked me in the cage, and most of all, my tormentors. A prisoner of war, kept alive to serve as an example to would-be rebels.
A small girl stared at me as her father read the small sign in front of the cage.
"All they know is what I told them," I said, "Maybe I lied."
"Daddy, the birdie talks!" she exclaimed.
"The birdie- Oh, of course! Even the children are taught to torment the prisoners! My blood is all you need, just take it!" I yelled. The girl screamed and ran away, her father running after her. Serves them right, I thought