paper has wings

The memory of a happier time was fading. It is only reality as long as wished it to be. Years have chipped away little by little the details of what she can remember. Yet, when it gets quiet and Sal is lost on the misery of her situation, it comes back.

That world was, a far away place. There, A large, towering mango tree grew in the middle of a wide grassfield which overlooked the hills. From atop those hills, you could see the sea and a city stretched like a white, slivering line against the blue sea. The wind would fan her face as her puny legs ran barefoot across the grass. The feeling of being weightless for a second visited her.

On the end of that long run, she’d hear an almost unfamiliar voice of a man who warned her against injuring her foot. This man would engage her in a long lecture about infections and diseases her little mind could not yet understand. But she was curious, asking dozens and dozens of questions. Each answer followed by a question from that answer. The man would answer with obscure and high terminology she could barely understand but she listened to anyway.

“It looks like a rope.” little Sal had remarked then at a gold chain with a pendant in the end. She’d tied it to her hands an played with it.

The man had clucked his tongue. “Ornaments like these are costly.”

“Like, really costly? A ton of gold costly?”

“Not in that way, child. But it is costly in a way more than gold can be.”

The man wrapped the necklace around her neck. Little Sal had then felt happy as she took off running into the grasslands again. She’d climbed up to the top of that mango tree and jumped.

Sal lurched. She did not land in a lush grass field underneath a setting sun, but a dull, graying room with faded patterns and dim light. Her stomach growled at he sight of another untouched meal as she glanced at flies feasting on the edge of the bowl of soup the maid has left by her table. Common decency told she should brush them off, but Sal had no use for a meal anyway. Even as she hungered, her whole body felt like pasted on the floor as she huddled in her blanket on the corner of the room.

She was nailed to her spot. Useless. Probably like the other days, useless and caged like a bird in this room while the world outside moved around her and her feet would truly lose the need to feel the air, to feel untethered on the earth. Useless around her brother.

Sal used to have dreams of falling. But strangely enough, the feeling was more freeing than terrifying. For a moment after, she’d see herself soar, even for just a moment. That semblance of flying she always sees whenever Ren sneaks inside her room like today. Sal kept her ears peeled open as she agonized at the slightest creak and shuffle in her steps.

“Don’t worry.I am quiet as a fox.” Ren assured her.

“Was I too obvious?”

“Sure are.”

It was unbelievable how this man stood nonchalantly as if any chance of being discovered will not breeze about any consequences. It was enviable, really.

“Pardon. I often forget your skills and your abilities.”

“To be fair, no one guards the windows. But it still is quite a bother making sure the Signor Castiglione is not on my tail.” He did not bother to sit like he would before. He must have clocked the tension in Sal’s face. “Let’s be quick. The Signor Oleon has left earlier this morning.”

Sal had expected that, but she almost wished she hadn’t confirmed it. Earlier that day, she’d crawled by the floor to peek between the bintanillas and chanced upon the figure of a tall man in a thick, dark, overcoat and a bowler hat. He was also holding a cane. On that accord, the man looked like the Signor, yet was also something else. Sal knew in her gut who he was but thought it better to ignore it.

Ren handed her a letter sealed in wax. Sal unceremoniously ripped the edges open, fraying the edges of the letter a bit and pulled it out. The letter contained nothing but a few words.

Ate, I don' t like to go back. Help me, please.