Dark.

Black.

Grey.

Only shades of shadows.

Quiet.

Muffled.

Sounds so close, yet so far.

The air was stuffy, the kind that makes it hard to breath.

The first time I saw light, I thought I was dead.

The tiny ray poking through the rough walls. So smooth and delicate I thought I would break it.

Break the light.

Break my only hope of escaping.

I pawed at the wall, but it didn’t break.

It grew.

My eyes ached at the sight, but I pushed on.

Light.

Outside.

It was like an instinct, something I had to do.

Something I had to find.

I pushed at the wall, the rocks crumbling to the ground.

When the door of my home was finally destroyed, my brain could hardly process the sight.

Tops of trees like green flowers. A golden sunset erupting in the sky. Pink and red was laced in, placed like delicate dew drops.

I unfolded my wings, stretching the sore muscles.

I flapped them once, twice, not able to take my eyes off of the painting.

With a puff of air, I lifted off the cliff-side, soaring into the sunset.