Unreached

It's right where it belongs, they say, binding me in chains and locking me away. As though I'm some kind of disobedient animal, rather than a fellow human.

Everything is dark; it always has been. Shackles hold me to the wall of this cage- the only things I ever feel. Rarely do I get to taste anything, and rarely do I get to hear anything aside from my own ragged breathing.

Every day is exactly the same. I sit in this cage, allowed very little space to move. Occasionally, I'm given something to eat, though I must feed myself- without the use of my hands

Eventually I fall asleep, only to wake in the same spot. Nothing ever changes, and nothing new ever happens here.

One day I hear an odd sound, one I assume to have come from a bird. A chirp; several chirps. The fluttering of its wings are heard from the right, and then the left.
Seeking contact with another living creature after so long, I grab around viciously. I jerk this way and that, yanking on the chans, begging at them to let my hands free.

Only a little further, I howl; Only a little more, I plead.

My hands remain empty, still yearning to feel the warmth of the flying animal; dying to inhale its scent relgiously; aching to hear its breathing.

Out of desperation, I struggle more furiously, yelling and screaming in exasperation. I pull; I yank; I twist; I turn; I toss.

Nothing works.

Tears streak down my cheeks, running from my dead eyes.

Suddenly, a glimmer of hope, my gripping fingers grasp a bunch full of feathers, I freeze instantly, holding onto the bird for dear life.

It flaps viciously.
My hand doesn't let go.

...

The bird escapes, flitting away for its dear life, silence slowly shrouding my prison once more,

My own dear life slipping away.