Birddddy

ure if I could just will it to stop, I would, and I don’t mean the dripping. It’s been a long while since I feared I’d go mad from that sound. It’s the silence I dread now. The moment that dripping s

times I try. It’s dark in here, but either my eyes have adjusted, or there’s light coming in from somewhere other than just the grate in the ceiling. A grate that looks into some room above that remains mostly dark, and always quiet, with the exception of occasional footsteps. Then again, maybe I just imagined it. Another lingering side effect of the drugs, just like the weird shadows that hover along the edges of my vision. Or you’re just dying. The thought brings a weary sigh to my lips. I don’t know what drugs they were pumping into my system, but I miss them. I miss that endless nothingness where I stopped existing. With the exception of when they dragged me back in here after finally making a break for it, it’s been a while since I’ve been knocked out. I swallow thickly as I remember waking up fully that first time, however many days or weeks ago, and realized what was going on as it all came rushing back to me. The panic that overtook my body… My eyes slide shut, and I focus on the music playing in my head instead. Count my breaths in time with each note. Sniffing, I go to reach up and wipe my nose when my fingers brush against the paper. Rolling my head, I blink slowly at the litter of origami birds surrounding me, adjusting the one I just knocked over so it’s once more in an upright position, its pointed little beak facing toward me.The first time I found one sitting next to my dinner tray, I hurriedly opened it, hoping there was some message inside. Something offering a clue as to where I was, or, even more far-fetched, reassurance. Help. Like I was in some movie or book instead of living out an actual nightmare. It shouldn’t have upset me when I found that it was nothing more than a blank, now-crinkled white sheet of paper. Completely and totally fucking useless. Mocking, even. I screamed that day. Screamed a lot. I banged my fists on the walls until I bled, cursed the world out, and even threw my dinner across the cell, hitting the cobbled stone wall with a clatter of hard plastic and a wet splat. It felt like an interminable amount of time before they attempted to feed me again after that. So long that I vaguely remember giving in and scraping what smelled lik