The sky sat dead in blackness. The streetlights burnt out, the long devoured city street had no movement except for one girl who sat weeping at her front door step. There’s blood on her hands, but no stains. Life in her heart, yet it doesn’t beat. Her tears were quite, her mistakes can be seen for miles.
After countless hours of weeping uncontrollably she looked up to see the clearing up ahead, she knew what had to be done. Slowly her frail hands lifted the hurt bird up from the ground. Careful not to let it twitch off her unstable fingertips. She sweeped through the deathly maze that lay before her, careful not to touch the things around her.
The bird’s sorrow had to end, she could save him. The twitching began to slow, turning into slight kicks, the girl quickened her tiny feet, still weary of everything around her. “Hang on. Please don’t let go, just hang on a little longer. I’m almost there.” he told the bird, he kicked as if he could respond.
The girl made it to what was unmistakably a border. Making a cut in the perfect looking world, to a dead, motionless street. The shining sun on the other side didn’t go through the border, but she could see light refracting off the invisible cage. She lifted her hands out of the disfigured street. Not long enough to hurt herself but enough to let the bird heal, stand up and fly away. Her heart ticked a beat, those frail arms falling to her chest. Turning around she looked at her surroundings, a slight smile came to her face.
“Oh darling, look at the mess you’ve made.” the last voice echoed. She looked around at the countless amount of bodies and the destroyed towers that made her prison. “I told you not to use blood magic.” The women said, the girl felt her presence behind her. “If you touch them they will fly away from here. You took their lives, and  they will take yours” Then a faint snap rang through her memories. She looked over at her mother’s body, her face twisted away from her.
The sky sat dead in blackness. The streetlights burnt out. The long devoured city street had no movement except the girl who sat smiling, surrounded by the rubble of her sins. There is blood on her hands, except it covers the streets instead of her fragile finger tips. Life in heart, yet it isn’t hers to keep. Her murder was quite but it can be seen for miles.
The girl walked over to a young boy with jet black hair. Her hand remembered the touch of his hair. Kneeling down, she touched his forehead this time. A small bird, half dead lay where he once was. The girl smiled, but deep down she was filled with envy. “Fly away little bird, fly away.”