Our teacher gave us the prompt to write from the perspective of a bird and then this happened kthanxbai (It’s a bunch of journal entries)
I’ve been trapped in this place for too long. My captors screeching offspring has grown larger. They think it’s comical to watch him hold me. He pulls at my feathers with his tiny, evil hands as saliva pours out of his mouth and drips onto my head. I fear that if they leave me alone with him, he may eat me.
I have discovered that my captors keep the key on the table on which my prison sits. This requires further research. I shall report my findings as they come.
I have begun to fashion a make-shift key out of my own droppings.
My plan has failed. My fake key crumbled when I inserted it into the lock. It would have worked had I not been caught. As punishment my captors subjected me to more of their offspring’s torture while they confiscated all the droppings in my cage.
I have begun to fashion a new key out a quill.
At last! I have escaped the clutches of their offspring. I have taken refuge beneath the sofa.
…I hear the thunderous footsteps of the beastly hatchling. He must be near. I fear for my life.
I was able to reach the key. I must hide it under my wing until just the right moment.
I attempted to free myself when no one was home, but the key slipped through my talons.
I’m free! My captors’ slave came to clean the house. She made sure no one was looking, and the unlocked my prison door. She left open a window for me.
My dearest Maria,
I am forever indebted to you.
Day 552 (later):
I have been perched in the tree outside my captor’s home for some time now. The outside world is nothing like I thought it was.
Day 552 (even later):
This new world is strange. The others of my kind mock me. I am not accepted here. Even worse, no one has delivered my birdseed to me, and I have yet to see a newspaper for me to relieve myself on. The other birds informed me they do not use newspaper. They use the humans’ cars. I must look into this practice.
After several days of being free, my captors found me. It’s too bad, really. I was acquiring a taste for the wild.
My captors believed that I escaped in order to find a mate, therefore they have provided me with a female in order to prevent another attempt. She has yet to speak with me.
I don’t think my new mate likes me. She insists that I stay in the back corner of the prison and do not speak to her directly.
I have concluded that providing me with a mate was just a new form of torture. She will not stop talking. My captors are sick beasts.
The slave has released me once again. I shall not go back this time. My mate was almost as horrible as that retched hatchling.