Arika saw the blow coming, but neither blocked nor dodged her mother’s strike. The open hand hit her cheek with a strength that belied the stout woman’s size, leaving a stinging sensation and a vague numbness that followed.
“Stupid girl!” her mother said before turning and striding out of the room.
The pain was nothing anymore.
Arika had become well acquainted with the constant physical abuse by now. It seemed the only thing that let her mother blow off steam was the daily punishment she would find a reason to dole out.
This time, it had been because Arika was late to arrive back home—never mind the fact that her mother had only given her an hour to get to the market and back on cracked and swollen feet. She licked her lips, feeling a sharp pain and the distinctive taste of blood.
She smiled; her mother had made a mistake.
She was usually careful not to leave a mark, still hopeful of marrying Arika off to an affluent family and increase their own social standing. Despite everything, Arika too clung to this hope—for someone to sweep in and carry her away from this life of torment.
Like anyone would want to marry the daughter of anyone as poor as our family…
“All you are good for is making a man happy,” her mother would say. “Your looks are a blessing to make up for your lack of a brain, stupid girl,” was another favorite. And then she would beat her. Ever reliable, her mother was.
Arika could remember that things hadn’t always been this way. Back when she was younger and her dad still worked, they had been happy. Her mother used to hug her tight and kiss Father when they came home, returned from some adventure out of the house. That was many years ago now, and Father hadn’t been able to work since she was very little.
He had slowly gotten sicker-and-sicker as the years passed by, up to the point that he was now bedridden, most days not even responding or knowing what was happening.
At first, her mother had taken Arika out of the house instead. They had believed it to be temporary; surely Father would eventually recover and be able to return to work. They had enough money to sustain their lifestyle for a while at least, and Arika and her mother would go to the market together, getting all the food and supplies she needed. Her mother would laugh and smile then, as she showed Arika the world.
Then, the money started to dry up. Father became worse, and it quickly became clear that this was not some temporary malady. Her mother had started to ask for help from their friends and family.
At first, they had obliged—some going above and beyond to help the struggling family. As a foreigner to their country, Father’s pale skin and worldly air seemed to have helped his business ventures, adding to the standing of the family. As their social status slowly slipped alongside his health, however, this help slowly dried up, escalating to the point that people would avert their eyes from Arika and her mother as they walked outside.
Eventually, they had to sell the house, downsizing to something that they could afford. Her mother still tried to put on airs that they were wealthy, spending all the money—everything that didn’t get spent on their new, smaller house—on food and clothes that were well outside of their means.
Perhaps she thought Father would one day get better. Perhaps she was just in denial, unwilling to admit to herself that her societal status was slipping. Regardless, all the money was spent, and they eventually had to move into the dwelling they now inhabited—a squat house on the border of a slum.
Arika was still young then… and that was when the beatings had started.
She looked back on these memories of how her mother had once been, not with happy remembrance, but bitter disdain at what her mother had now become. Arika would never do that to her daughter.
When she dreamed of being swept away from this life of misery, she dreamed of having a family of her own—a family and children that she would love and care for, no matter the hard times that befell them.
Arika picked herself up, dabbing her cut lip with a dirty cloth. She walked back out into what amounted to the living room of their squat dwelling. They lived in a shack now, if you compared it to the opulent mansion they used to dwell in.
Her mother was already back working, weaving the cloth that now acted as their primary source of income. Their single product to sell at the market earned barely enough to get by, as the rough, hand-sewn fabric could be woven by the simplest of operations—no machinery or fine equipment required.
“Finish that one,” her mother said, gesturing to a half-finished cloth and pretending that she hadn’t just struck her only daughter.
***
Father was a tall man, his body now withered and frail, but she remembered him as he once was: strong, straight-backed, and happy—always happy. As a foreigner, he had caught the eye of many women as a young man, his comparatively pale skin and tall build an exotic oddity. Whether for her mother’s beauty, or the woman she once was, Father had chosen her to be his bride.
That night, with thoughts of the past fresh on her mind, Arika was happily surprised to find Father in a lucid state. Her mother had already gone to bed, smoking the strange spices that knocked her out every evening. She had brought the thin bean soup into Father’s room to find him sitting up, gazing out of the small hole in his wall that acted as a window.
“Father!” she said, rushing over and hugging him gently after setting the soup down on the ground.
“Hello, my little sparrow,” Father said with his weak yet comforting voice. “What happened to your lip? Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, Father. I tripped over someone in the market. It will heal. How are you feeling today?”
“You have to be more careful. You take after your clumsy father.” He smiled a weak smile and his eyes crinkled in delight. “I’m feeling good today. I think I might be finally getting better.”
“I think you might be too, Father,” she lied. “Here, I brought you some dinner.”
“I’m not feeling hungry, sparrow. Perhaps later…”
“Father.” She glared at him. “You need to eat if you want to get better.”
Father laughed weakly.
“Ah, I see I have been mistaken. You are no sparrow, but a mighty hawk.” He motioned for the soup. “How can I say no to you, my winged watcher?”
Arika passed him the soup, watching him as he shakily brought the spoon to his mouth and ate, one sip at a time. He ate the entire bowl, forcing every spoon down under the watchful eye of his daughter.
“Are you happy, sparrow?” He looked at her, eyes appearing clearer than they had in years. “I’m sorry for the state I have let this family get in. To see my little girl stuck in this tiny home… it breaks my heart. No teenager should have to care for their father.”
“Of course I’m happy. I have you and Mother, don’t I?” she said, sounding unconvincing even to herself.
“Such a sweet girl. One day, when I get better, you will be able to spread your wings and go where you please.” He gave her a smile so sincere, even she started to believe he would recover. “Promise me, even if the worst were to happen and I don’t recover, live a life of freedom and adventure. Nothing would make me happier. I could not bear it if you remained caged here forever.”
“Don’t say that, Father. I still remember our adventures when I was little… how could I live a life without freedom and adventure with you as a father? You said I take after you, didn’t you?”
Father beamed a smile back at her that warmed her heart.
“That I did. Look after your mother for me until I get better, won’t you? I worry for her.” He handed her the bowl, leaning back down against his pillow and letting out a weary sigh. “I feel quite tired suddenly. I might get some rest.”
“Of course, Father.” She stood, giving him one last hug before leaving him to sleep. “I love you.”
“I love you too, little sparrow. Goodnight.”
She went back to her room, and for the first time in months, Arika cried. By the next morning, Father’s lucid state had disappeared as soon as it had come, leaving her missing him greatly, and her emotions in turmoil.
***
Some days later, Arika was weaving cloth while her mother was gone to the market to get supplies. All week, her mother had been the one to go, getting dressed up in her best clothes before heading out. This was… odd. Arika was usually the one sent on such errands, but she wasn’t going to complain; she found it peaceful to be left alone to work. She was annoyed, however, that her mother was gone for half the day at a time, while Arika was hit for taking longer than a single hour. Every day she came back in a foul mood, finding something to punish her daughter for.
“Worth it for the solitude away from that cow,” Arika said to herself.
Her mother burst through the door, startling Arika. She readied herself for a blow, thinking that she may have heard her. Instead, she ran to Arika, a broad smile plastered on her face.
“Good news! Finally, a bit of luck for us!” Her mother raised her hands to the sky, making a praising gesture. “I’ve found a family willing to consider marriage!”
Marriage? She found someone for me to marry?
Suddenly, her mother’s long absences made sense. She had been courting families, trying to find a husband for her. The realization that someone might actually marry her, and save her from this hell, caused a wave of relief to wash over her.
“They’re a merchant family, new to the area. They’re very wealthy, and their youngest son is quite particular. They came to find me after they heard I was meeting with other families—he heard of your beauty and they came to find me! I had been planning to meet with the tanner about their eldest, luckily a representative of the merchant found me before I did. Thank the gods that you are my daughter and inherited my good looks.”
Arika blanched a little, thinking of the older boy that always smelled of chemicals and had a habit of staring for too long.
Her mother swept across the floor, going straight to a secret hole that hid their money.
“Come, we must get you some new clothes. This is our chance away from this poverty, we must prepare!”
They went to the market, her mother leading her to the higher-end stores for their area, all-the-while being the most joyous and loving she had been in years. They picked out a handful of dresses, jewelry, and shoes. Despite knowing better, seeing her mother so happy made her believe that this is how it could be from now on.
She went to bed that night with butterflies in her stomach. She had hoped to share the news with Father, but not even his return to an unresponsive state was enough to dampen her excitement at the possibilities whirling in her head.
***
The boy who wanted to marry her had been as particular as her mother had said. It was extremely unusual to meet before an engagement, but as her possible future-husband was more interested in looks than wealth, he had insisted. The day after her mother had come home with the news, Arika got dressed up in her new clothes and jewelry, and a car came to pick her up from her house. The car was some sort of SUV, with a clean-cut driver in a well-fitting suit. Arika did her best to appear composed, though on the inside her stomach was roiling.
They drove for twenty-minutes, slowly transitioning from the slums she lived in to the more affluent neighborhoods. They eventually pulled up to a modern home that was even bigger than the house her family had once lived in. The driver got out of the car, walking around the vehicle to open the door for Arika. Her cheeks flushed as she thanked him, unsure of how to react around the man.
He walked before her, leading her to the house and opening the door for her.
“The young master is out the back. Follow that hallway out into the garden.”
He walked back out the front door, closing it behind him.
She walked down the long, white hallway the driver had showed, her eyes drawn to the lavish decorations of the house. She wasn’t one for frills or excess, but the security that such wealth represented made her want to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
There were marble statues, beautiful paintings, and more intricate tapestries than she could count—most of which depicted a multitude of different birds in flight. Arriving at a giant wooden door with gorgeous glass panels that let in the sun's light, she stepped outside.
The yard was even larger than she could have imagined, the back of the property stretching back a few hundred meters where it ended at a giant white wall. The entire yard was walled in, but the area was so large that the walls didn’t stop the sun from reaching down and touching the trees spread throughout the lush grass. Scattered through the grounds were what appeared to be small aviaries, all of which contained colorful birds.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
In the center of the yard, under what was a colossal tree, sat a man reading. He looked about Arika’s age, but had a full beard that was overly groomed. She approached with hesitation, the heat of the summer sun almost unbearable as soon as she stepped out of the protection offered by the back patio. Seeing her approach, the man set his book down and looked up at her with deep-green eyes.
“Arika… wow, you are as beautiful as I have heard. Please, take a seat.”
She sat down on the bench beside him, feeling a cool wind wick away her nervous sweat, the sprawling tree above blocking the harsh sun’s heat.
“I know that this is not common in our culture, but I am not a common man.” He looked up at her, causing her eyes to dart away. “I do not wish to marry anyone for power and money.”
He gestured at the yard surrounding them.
“My family has enough of that already. I wish to marry a woman for her beauty and her brain. So, in this uncommon yet understandable circumstance, it makes sense to meet my potential bride beforehand. Wouldn’t you agree?”
She nodded, still looking away. A silence stretched between them, the only sound that of the wind in the trees, and the occasional call of an exotic bird.
“Would you tell me of yourself, Arika? I know that your family has suffered after your father became ill, and I know that you and your mother sell bolts of fabric to get by. I do not, however, know much about you—other than your beauty, of course.” He smiled such a disarming smile that Arika felt herself relax. “Come—let us walk. It is easier to talk while moving.”
He offered her his arm, and she took it, letting him lead her from beneath the shade of the tree. He called for one of the men tending the garden, who he then instructed to bring an umbrella for her.
He held the umbrella above her, shielding her from the harsh mid-morning sun.
She began telling him her story, slowly opening up and gaining confidence as he listened attentively. She omitted all the abuse, instead telling him that her mother had been doing her best to support them while Father was sick. She was too embarrassed to admit the truth, and she wanted to seem as normal as possible, not wanting to chase away her only chance at freedom.
“That is truly a tragic story. I am sorry. That must have been hard.”
He took her hand and kissed it before leading her over to a bush with pretty pink flowers.
“Some flowers, such as this one, need harsh conditions in order to bloom. Given too much water and not enough heat, these flowers would never reach their full potential.”
He stopped and looked her in the eyes.
“I have no doubt that you are one such flower. Struggle and adversity combined to create the beauty before me.”
Blushing, she turned away.
“You are too kind.” She touched one of the pink flowers, feeling the soft petals surprisingly cool beneath the scorching sun.
“Perhaps I am, or perhaps you are too hard on yourself.” He laughed and shrugged. “Even if you were not beautiful—which you are—beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I find you to be the most beautiful flower in this entire garden.”
She let him lead her on, and they passed some of the birds she’d seen earlier. Up close, the creatures were even more beautiful than any of the flowers. There were bright-colored parrots with giant beaks and watchful eyes. There were little finches that were every color of the rainbow, flitting around their cages is a swirl of chaos. She could also see what looked like ducks, but they were almost as colorful as the parrots, with tufts of feathers extending beautifully from their heads. The ducks sat on the floor of their cages, watching them with care as they passed by.
Despite how breathtaking all the birds were to look at, it struck her as sad to see them stuck in cages no taller than she was.
“Do you ever let them out?”
“No, my dear.” He laughed lightly. “If were to let them out, they would fly away.”
“But don’t they get cramped being stuck in such a small cage their whole life? It seems quite sad not to let a bird fly free…”
“Not at all. It may seem sad, but I assure you the birds are much happier being enclosed in a safe place. Here, they are given all the food, water, and shade they desire. They are kept together with birds of their kind, so they are never left wanting for company.”
He touched the cage of one of the colorful parrots as they walked by.
“Birds are beautiful, but naïve. They would fly away if given the chance, and would then starve to death or be eaten by a predator. It is a kindness to keep them contained, even if they do not know it.”
Arika remained unconvinced, but he did have a point.
It may seem like the right thing to free a caged bird, but would it still be a kindness if that freedom caused the bird to die by starvation, or worse, predation?
They walked around the gardens for a few more hours, all the while servants brought around trays of exotic fruits. He spoke of the things that he could provide her, and the family that they could raise together.
As it turned out, the garden they had been walking in wasn’t just his family’s garden—it was entirely his. He was a charming man, and by the end of that first day, she found herself completely smitten. On more than one occasion, she caught herself imagining a life filled with the freedom to walk in those gardens untethered.
The same driver from earlier that day came and collected her, taking her back to her house. Her mother arrived back home shortly after, a happiness in her step that Arika could scarcely remember from her childhood. Her mother told her she’d just spoken to the young man’s family, and that they had set a date for the wedding. It appeared as though the young suitor had been just as enamored with her as she had been with him.
For the second night in a row, her mother didn’t find a reason to hit her, and Arika went to bed with overflowing happiness in her heart.
The next few weeks went by in a dizzying, joyous blur. Arika and her family were all moved out of their slum of a home after her fiancée found a new villa that was more befitting of his future wife. Father had no more lucid moments, but he now had a team of servants that were caring for him at every hour of the day. Arika still found time to sit with him every day, telling him all about her upcoming marriage and their wonderful new home. She felt a little guilty for it, but there had been a real sense of relief that she was no longer the one responsible for ensuring he was properly fed and bathed. The main servant who looked after him in the evenings was a kind young girl, and Arika often joked along with her as she spoke to Father.
By the day of the wedding, it had been almost a month since she had seen her mother anything other than overjoyed. One night, she had come to Arika, crying and asking for forgiveness for everything she had done. Arika empathized with her, and she understood it couldn’t have been easy for her to have her husband be sick all these years, and be the one responsible for keeping the family fed and sheltered.
She did not forgive her—not completely, anyway. She did think, however, that maybe one day she could.
The wedding itself was beautiful—Arika had experienced nothing so magical in her life. Her husband’s family was vast, though she found them to be a little stiff. Her father-in-law was quite a prominent figure, so many of the locally powerful people were in attendance. Even her family had been there, who, unlike Mother, Arika hadn’t been so quick to forgive; she still recalled their downcast and averted eyes.
The only person missing was Father, who was still yet to return to a lucid state. He actually seemed to get a little sicker since the move, despite the new level of care. She was feeling guilty that she hadn’t seen him that morning, having every intention to, but simply getting caught up in the day's excitement. None of that really mattered, however, as he was cared for, and she had more than she could have ever wished for: her husband, and her freedom.
In the afternoon, as Arika spoke to a distant family member, she saw Mother pull her now-husband aside and whisper something into his ear. Mother hadn’t appeared flustered, but whatever she’d said made her husband look taken aback.
Arika worried that something was wrong and asked her husband when he came back over to her. He responded vaguely, not telling her what the issue was. He assured her it was nothing to worry about, telling her it was just a logistical issue that had already been taken care of. Worry assuaged, she let her mind return to the celebration.
The day flew by, and she had never been happier—not just for what was happening in the moment, but for the future that she could foresee. As the night stretched on and the festivities escalated, the moment that she had been both dreading and expecting came—both families ushered toward a private room to consummate the marriage. Arika was so nervous that she thought her heart might beat out of her chest, but she was just as excited at the prospect of celebrating the joining of her and her husband.
As they rounded a hallway, there was a commotion ahead. She heard a hissed conversation, the muffled sounds reverberating off the walls in the quiet night air. It was Mother talking to someone.
Arika recognized the tone of her voice… she was not happy.
They rounded another corner and found Mother and the young girl who was in charge of caring for Father, both standing outside of Father’s room. The young girl was crying, Mother berating her in a voice too quiet for them to hear.
“What is going on?” her husband asked. “Is everything okay?”
Mother turned, anger transforming into shock as she saw Arika.
“O-oh, everything is fine. Do not worry yourselves.”
The young girl averted her eyes, avoiding Arika’s worried look and hiding her tears.
“A small matter of insignificance, continue with your celebrations,” Mother continued.
Her husband dragged Arika along, not wanting to get involved in whatever dispute this was. Arika stood her ground, pulling her hand from her husband’s grip. She had a terrible feeling and made to push past Mother and the young girl. Mother grabbed Arika’s arms and stepped in front of her. The young girl stood in the doorway, looking conflicted.
“Father… is Father okay?” she demanded.
“Everything is fine, daughter!” Mother smiled, but her eyes were panicked. “Do not let us stop you from—”
“Your father has passed,” the young girl quickly said through tears. “I am so sorry—”
The girl’s words were cut off as her mother slammed the girl with a closed fist, sending her sprawling to the floor. Arika tried to rush past, but her husband caught her arm, dragging her back away from the door.
“My love, you do not want to see him like this. I am so sorry. Please, come with me.” She fought him briefly, but eventually let him pull her into his arms, away from Father’s door.
“Stupid girl!” her mother berated, talking down to the young girl, who was now crying on the floor, blood streaming from her nose. Her mother turned to Arika.
“Arika, please… I wanted to protect you from this. You shouldn’t have to learn of this on your wedding night. All because of this stupid girl!”
Her mother turned and swatted the prone girl again, who cried out in pain.
Arika felt numb, unable to process the loss alongside the joy she had felt during the last few days and weeks.
“Give me a moment,” her mother said to Arika’s husband. “Let me speak to my daughter.”
She pulled Arika aside, led her out of earshot of the others, then looked her in the eyes, holding her shoulders in place.
“This night is important. I am sorry for what has happened, but you need to focus on your husband. You must consummate the marriage, or everything could be ruined.” Her mother’s eyes were wide and filled with fervor, making her appear almost crazed. “Do you understand, girl? Are you listening? You must put your pain aside for tonight. We cannot waste this opportunity.”
Arika stared back at her mother in shock—unfeeling and unable to think.
“Go now,” her mother continued, ushering Arika back toward her husband. “There will be time to mourn later. Tonight, you must focus on your husband and his needs.”
Arika walked back toward her husband, letting him take her arm and guide her away. Through the fog of her own emotions, she could hear the soft crying of the young girl as her mother continued to punish her with both verbal and physical blows.
Her husband led her up several staircases, carrying her up the last set of stairs when she almost collapsed.
The room her husband led her back to was lit with beautiful red candles. There was an attached en-suite and balcony, both of which were smothered with the soft red light of the candles. They were on a high enough floor to see out over the surrounding buildings, giving the room a beautiful view of the mountains nearby. Flower petals littered the room’s landing, making a trail up to a lavishly decorated bed. Arika, however, didn’t truly see any of it. All she could see was Father’s smile the last time they had spoken—his joy shining through at the thought of his only daughter’s happiness.
Behind the safety of the closed doors, and with only the company of her husband, she lost herself to grief.
Arika didn’t know how long she cried, but her husband held her there on the floor, doing his best to be there for her. At some point he had carried her to the bed, laying her down among the petals and kissing her softly. She kissed him back momentarily before she pulled away as thoughts of Father returned. He pushed himself on her, kissing her as she tried to pull back.
“Let me make you feel better, my love.” He grabbed her neck, trying to pull her face to his.
“Stop,” she managed to get out between sobs. “Please… stop…”
“I just want to make you feel better. We are married now, and we must…” He let out a frustrated noise, pulled away, and sat at the end of the bed. “This is all that stupid girl’s fault. She should not have told you… you should not have known. Your mother was right—a bride shouldn’t have to hear such a thing on her wedding night.”
He let anger show, surprising Arika, who had seen nothing but tenderness from the man.
“I will make sure that girl is properly punished when your mother is through with her.”
“Don’t… it’s not her fault, she was just…” Arika trailed off as a memory from earlier in the day returned to her. Her mother pulling her husband aside, the look of shock he had when her mother told him something, his suspicious demeanor when she questioned him… and everything slid into place.
“You… you knew…”
“No, my love, I-”
“You knew!” She shoved him hard, pushing him away despite their size difference. “You knew my father had passed away, and you still tried to bring me back to this bed!”
She pushed him again, halting his slow advance back toward her.
He rushed forward suddenly, grabbing her arms.
“That is enough! I kept it from you to protect you!”
“So you did know. And you still brought me back here to have sex with me?” Tears filled her eyes and the world blurred. “You would happily use my body, do intimate things to me, all the while knowing that my father had died just hours ago… and knowing that you didn’t tell me!” She struggled to free her arms as she yelled at him, but he was too strong.
“They are two different things, Arika…” He let out a sigh, but didn’t let go of her. “I am truly sorry for what has happened to your father. Of course I am. Who wouldn’t be? But it should have nothing to do with the joining of our lives. Please, my love… this is our first night together, and I wanted nothing to ruin it.”
“You ruined it! Not my father, not that poor girl, and not even my mother! You did!” Arika tried to squirm away, to get as far away as possible from the man who she was supposed to love, but instead found repulsive. He was too strong, his powerful hands not letting go of her small wrists.
He pushed her back, straddling her waist so her body’s movement was restricted. She felt powerless, and she thought in that moment of the birds he kept caged. Their beautifully colorful feathers, their intelligent eyes, and their captivity.
He leaned down, trying to kiss her—she head-butted him.
“Get off of me!” She hoped to give power to the blow with the strength of her words, to no avail.
He pulled back from her and closed his eyes tight, wincing at the pain—even her soft blow to his nose enough to make his eyes water.
“Arika! Why are you being so stupid?” he demanded. “You are my wife. You belong to me, just as I belong to you, so why are you making this so difficult? I tried to be patient, I tried to be there for you, but how much more can I suffer?”
“How much more can you suffer? You—”
Arika’s voice cut off as he covered her mouth with his hand, pushing her head painfully back into the bed.
“ENOUGH! I won’t be insulted by my wife. Even if you are feeling anger, it is not for me. I did not kill your father. All I did was try to protect you!”
Arika looked up at the furious expression of her husband through tear-filled eyes and closed them, not wanting to see him. She pushed with everything she had, but she was so weak compared to him. He held both of her hands in one of his, trapped tight against her chest. The weight of his body on top of hers was an immovable object.
She thought of Father, wishing for nothing more than for him to come and save her from this man.
She thought of what he had said to her: “Promise me, even if the worst were to happen and I don’t recover, live a life of freedom and adventure. Nothing would make me happier. I could not bear it if you remained caged here forever…”
She had thought this man—her husband—had been a path to freedom; a savior from the tyranny of a life spent with her mother, trapped in that tiny home. Instead, she had exchanged one prison for another, now nothing more than another one of her husband’s exotic pets.
There would be no true freedom or adventure with this man, just another cage.
He pulled his hand off of her mouth as her tears slowly stopped flowing.
“Have you returned to your senses? Can I let you go and not expect to be beaten or insulted?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes. You’re right. I’m sorry.”
He got off of her slowly. “I am sorry, too, my love. I did not wish to restrain you, but you were hysterical…”
“It’s okay.” She got up off the bed. “I need to freshen up.”
“Of course, take your time, my love.” He leaned back on the bed, making himself comfortable on the pillows. “I will be here when you are ready.”
Arika walked to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. She slowly took all the jewelry off and undid her hair, letting her long dark curls flow down past her shoulders. She washed her face, removing all the makeup that had made her feel so beautiful. The ceremonial dress was removed, replaced by a robe that she found hanging there on the wall. She stepped back out, not looking at her husband.
“Why did you take the makeup off? You looked so beautiful… Arika? What are you doing?”
She walked to the glass doors instead of the bed, letting herself out onto the balcony. She walked over to the railing and looked out over the beautiful night as an icy wind bit deep into her skin.
“Come to bed, my love. It is freezing out here. Let us warm each other.”
Arika looked back at him with tears in her eyes. The tears weren’t for her situation. They weren’t for her mother, her husband, or anyone else that she had been with today. The tears weren’t for her at all—they were for Father, who she hadn’t even been able to say goodbye to. She leaned out over the railing, her feet slowly leaving the ground.
“Arika, be careful. It is a long way down, my love. Come back to bed.”
She stared into her husband’s eyes with a lack of any emotion as she fell backward over the side of the balcony.
“Arika!” her husband yelled, but she didn’t hear him.
The air rushed by and caressed her outstretched arms. She heard the wind as it whisked past her ears—the herald of her final adventure. She closed her eyes and pictured herself as the little sparrow, at last escaping the cage.
And she flew.