• I awoke the next morning, with the sun shining on my face. I was laying on a soft bed. I must be dreaming. Then reality hit. But all I remembered was going to sleep on the floor. I rolled over on the bed and looked at the ground. James snored loudly, occasionally muttering something about it being to cheesy. I watched him sleep, it amused me.
    Gently I eased myself upright. Could I still walk? After all these years, could I do it. I grabbed the bedpost and put one foot down on the wooden floor. Then I swung the other leg around a put it down. Using both hands I held on the bedpost and shakily stood. I held on for dear life, terrified to let go.
    I opened one eye. I hadn't collapsed yet.
    I let go of the bedpost and took a step forward. I overstepped and went flying. My legs buckled and I crashed into a bookshelf. Sports books and magazines all buried me in one gigantic avalanche.
    "What the-" James yelped.
    He saw me struggling in the mass of books and magazines. He ran over and started tossing the books aside. He uncovered my face which must have had the look of perpetual confusion on it. He started laughing.
    "What. . .what. . ." He gasped for breath he was laughing so hard.
    I brushed myself off indignantly.
    "I was trying to walk thank you. It seems I've been off my feet for too long."
    I said stiffly. James slowed his laughter down and helped me up. I started shaking again and as I was going down James caught me again and put a hand around my waist to steady me.
    "Ok, let's take this a little slower." He grunted.
    He helped me over to the bed. I sat down and took a big breath of air.
    "So. What exactly is your story?" James asked.
    "What?" I asked, feeling cranky.
    "I mean why were you in a giant birdcage?" James was smiling.
    I glowered at him.
    "I was kidnapped when I was 10, by people who claimed to be my grandparents, kept in their basement because I could sing, and sang to them once a day every single year I was there for food and. . ." I choked on the last word.
    Why was I crying? It was over now. No, it wasn't. I was lying to myself. James put an arm around my shoulder. I cried into his shoulder, for everything those people did to me.
    "Do you remember your last name?" James asked, curiously.
    Yes I could, because I had engraved it into the bottom of my cage with my long fingernail.
    "Lydell." I said.
    Jame got really quiet. I looked over at him.
    "What? What's wrong?" I asked, worried I'd said something wrong again.
    "I lived here when I was ten too. I remember you, from 4th grade. I remember your parents." He said slowly.
    I squealed and bit my finger.
    "Do my parent's still live here? Where are they? Can you take me to them?"
    I let it all come out in a rush. James shook his head.
    "They moved some 3 years ago." He spoke quietly and patted my shoulder.
    I went numb and cold inside. More tears. James didn;t try to touch me this time. I cried in the silence.
    "You want me to carry you downstairs." He didn't say it like a question.
    I stood up and wobbled. He tried to help me, but I pushed his hand away. I staggered over to the door and held onto the doorknob. It was still early morning. I twisted it so the door opened and fell out. James picked me up off the ground and carried me down the stairs.
    He put me down in a kitchen cahir and started getting something out of the refridgerator. A carton of eggs and bacon. I would have rejected the offer, but I hadn't eaten in 2 days. Someone rang the doorbell, and James placed the food on the counter. The doorbell rang again, and James ran to open it. I rested my head on the kitchen table, my stomach roaring.
    "Hello there sonny."
    My head snapped up, creating the faint sense of whiplash. I knew that voice. I fell out of my chair and rolled under the kitchen table, pressing my hand over my mouth. James knew who it was too.
    "I was wondering, our granddaughter must have wandered off in the night when she went out with a couple of friends." His voice was smooth and confident.
    Liar. Like I'd have friends. He peered around James's shoulder.
    "I was wondering if we could come in. . ." His eyes landed on me.
    James followed his gaze, and tried blocking the door, but he and the lady had already made their way past him. His cane hit the ground hard.
    "I told you I'd find you, Bluebird."
    I could taste blood from my hand.