Of Wings And Sorrow

Voices flared in the shabby walls of the old dining hall. The unfurnished, dingy mansion appears a lot more fearsome today, when the wrath of the man in a wrecked household broke out once more. “Have you certainly gone mad? How could you pour half my savings down the drain in just a week?!” Mr. Ameri slammed his sturdy hands on the table. His wife, covered in an amorous vermillion dress and fine jewelry, simply laughed out of it. “I was left with dust and filth in this rusty home, Avenir. I had just given myself a little.. revamping.” She uttered it with poise and elegance before sipping wine out of her glass. Avenir meanwhile, tried so hard to compose himself and bottled his anger. “With all those shiny things wrapped in your body, you’re unbelievable!” He gritted. “Must I remind you again, Leanna? Your pretentious way of living is an appalling misfortune of the future of our family!" He spoke with great emphasis, intending to engrave those words in the wife’s mind. Hearing those, she appears to be scornfully amused. "This family has been long doomed even without my leisure, Avenir. Do not blame it on me. Have you forgotten it all began when you had that idle child of yours?" She slowly muttered, showing an obvious trail of disgust toward the pale lady silently sitting at the end of the table. Dazea dropped her head as the words of the stepmother echoed offensively forward. “Leanna!” The man of the house tried to shut the wife, but as always, she never showed a bit of concern. The disaster that went on during dinner did not weather after it. The shouts clashing between the adults blatantly echoed throughout every hall of the house. While Dazea tidied up the sink, she was always heedful not to break anything, or else all the rage would be hers. At least today would be less raging than those days when her father was out working in the city. After making sure all was neat and placed, she picked up her favorite dowdy gray overcoat and decided to go out for a walk. “At least outside, there is silence," she quietly thought. Leaving without a word, she strolls around with only the moonlight to guide the way. She has been doing it for years. Walking around past eight, searching for repose in quietness, and ultimately, finding a place to soothe her heart even at least for a moment. Her stepmother never liked her. Thus, whenever her father is away, there are no days she does not wish for him to just appear at the front door and save her from the curses, and sometimes, from the beating of her stepmother. Whenever that unfortunate event happens, she tends to escape and go to the woods. For her, there is an incredible sense of solace and comfort when she is in solitude. While it is true that she lives in a very huge, rusty, loud old home, she grew up with nature. She did not know the reason, but her home stood somewhere within the plain part of the forest, truly far from the city. Considering her home is away from the bustling world, it was supposed to be genuinely quiet, except that her parents make it the loudest place to be. Wandering around, she halted in an old tree near a lake. She sits there in silence, feeling the world around her. For the young lady, her imagination is wild. In her eyes, the moon gleams like a mother looking after a child in full tenderness. She does not know if this idea occurs because the moon truthfully lights our path when the world is covered in darkness or simply because Dazea misses her mother so much that she sees her in almost everything. "I longed for you, ma." There, she answered herself in silence. Every night, she dearly hopes to turn back time. She missed her mother so much that she never stopped praying for the impossible. But the world could never do anything else except send her gentle blows of the wind for an answer. Just as she began to rest herself in the trunk, a sudden sound of flapping wings caught her attention. A bird of foreign appearance landed not too close to her! Dazea, who is stunned by the appearance of the wanderer, cautiously stands, hoping to examine the spectacular sight. The bird was never familiar to her. It has a face that is as dark as coal yet also has a soft touch of white. The bird's plumage seems to be very dark, but its long, billowing flank plumes are a combination of gray and black. However, because it was not daytime, Dazea could never tell if the color is close to accurate. But what she knows for real is its dark shining black eyes are nerve-wracking captivating. If the whole body speaks elegance, the sharp eyes that seem to be staring at her are both frightening and beautiful. As curious as she was, Dazea decided to slowly gauge the distance between her and the bird. She walks extremely careful so as not to scare it away. And as if the little wanderer understood her intention, it did not move. As soon as she was close enough, Dazea could not hide her astonishment. It is very beautiful up close! The domination of the combined colors gray and dark complements each other. And the eyes, the eyes are breathtaking. When the bird slowly moves its head where the moonlight can grace directly to its eyes, a tiny crimson color suddenly shines through its black ocean eyes! Oh God! Dazea could never believe what she saw. She is so astounded by its beauty that the temptation of touching the stunning wanderer is unstoppable. She gently extends her hands to reach the bird. At first, she is glad when it does not seem to move. But as her fingertips is close enough to finally reach it, it suddenly flew away. "Wait!" The bird did not halt nor hoop at any of the branches. It just flapped its wings and swiftly flew away, heading up to the night sky. The lady's eyes never leave the bird. She hopes to see where it will land or go. But just in a matter of seconds, the bird suddenly disappears from her vision, leaving no chance for her to trace and follow. Quite frankly, she felt saddened. The thought that the rare bird might only be a passerby and has only happened to pick the tree to rest, means the wanderer may never return. Considering the possibility, a stroke of disappointment has her sighing. “It appears you hide your wondrous beauty to mankind, little wanderer. Guess it's very unlikely to see you again.” She whispered in silence. But just as she began to drown in despair and hopelessness, she noticed something on the ground. A feather! A bird's feather! Dazea's heart raced in joy and excitement picking up her small memorare of the bird. Touching it, the lady could not stop thinking about what to do with the spectacular thing! Dazea thinks of putting it in a book where she will write about her sighting of the rare bird! She thinks of writing each tiny detail about how the bird appears up close, how its body seems elegant, or how its eyes are far beyond the word astounding. If the bird truly first appeared to her, she giggled, thinking of a great discovery! But it's so beautiful. Putting it in a book may exploit its elegance and beauty. She thought of simply framing it to the wall. It is much better than making a great discovery but also allowing people to haunt the rare beauty. But just as she started imagining things to do, she suddenly stopped as she noticed something uncommon. She stood there puzzled as her eyes were locked on the thing she held. The realization hit her. Why is this... Thinking the problem was her sight, Dazea tried to rub her eyes and tried for a second look. But to her surprise, nothing had changed in the feather. She even tries to stand in a place where the moonlight can clearly illuminate the thing, but none has changed from how she picked the feather in the ground. Closely staring at the wondrous thing, Dazea whispers in bewilderment: ‘ I am certain, you are as black as coal. But why is this feather I hold as crimson as your eyes?’