I miss the grass beneath my feet, I miss the feeling of the wing on my skin. It’s like the four walls were becoming smaller as the days passed. I had no one to talk, Nana Helen always came by to see me in but she couldn’t stay long. I often tried to get information from her she never did tell me anything, so our conversations became random talks as she told me about her hay and how Henry was. Never once did she attempt to talk about Killian and never once did I ask. I was a prisoner now. There wasn’t anything I desired anymore.
Nana Helen was allowed to give me one thing though, she was allowed to give me books and three times a week she’d bring me a new one, every time I’d thank her for it.
Its nights like these that I feel worse, when the rain is falling and the clouds are dark a
