In a town far, far away, there lived a family of a former count. The count had a beautiful and graceful wife, with a lovely daughter. They lived peacefully in the Estate full of joy, light and laughter.

Isabella, the count's daughter, has always admired the bird, a creature that symbolises freedom and hope. That summer, her father bought her a silver bird cage, with an exquisite bird in burgundy shade, like her own hair colour. She placed the cage in the greenhouse, where it is filled with sunlight and her favourite flowers. She fed the bird every single day, told the bird all her secrets, murmuring about her dreams of catching the wind, holding the moon and dancing with the flowers. The bird tilted its head and listened in the silver cage, silent as always.

But since when, she wondered, has her family become like this? 

"Bella, y-your father is drunk again..." the handmaiden stuttered, "...h-he kept calling you." It's mid summer, but Isabella still wore that thick, long sleeve dress that really did the job of covering the bruises along her body. She remained silent for a couple of seconds, sighing before standing up and following the handmaiden to her father's study.

While knocking on the door, Isabella could hear the shattering noises within the room. Her knees were shaking, but she pushed the door open and entered the study anyway.

In the middle of the mess there was her father. "Annette...? I-Is that you, my beloved...?" The father's voice was shaking, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"No, father. Mum passed away 2 years ago. I'm Isabe-"

"Nonsenses!!" the father cut her off mid-sentence before throwing whatever he could grab around him towards her. Isabella didn't dodge, and her forehead bled.

"Oh Annette, y-you are bleeding..." he staggered towards her, grabbing her shoulders like a vice. Isabella winced, glancing at the window in the study that was sealed with thick wooden bars. The intention was on her mind a thousand times, but she didn't have that courage.

The father hugged her tightly, crying nonstop like a child. "Annette, n-no I mean, Bella, I'm sorry...It was because you were so beautiful, just like her, so I-I thought...P-Please don't leave me, Bella, you look exactly like her, you are the only remaining pieces of her that is left in this world for me, I love you, Bella..." the man kept whimpering, suffocating her in his tight embrace and the heavy smell of booze. A father's love that moved no one but himself.

"...He mistook me for mum again, precious," Isabella whispered to the bird in the greenhouse that afternoon while caressing its head, "how I wish I had those wings, to fly out of the window...I just cannot leave him like that, how will he live without my presence? I know, birdie. He didn't hit me intentionally this time, I think that he might have improved...Maybe if I stay just a bit longer, he might realise his mistakes...?"

When the sun finally set, and Isabella fell into slumber, the bird stood on its own fragile legs, observing the moon. Trapped inside this limited space, the bird could not extend its wings to fly. The pulchritudinous burgundy feathers made it the target of the hunters, and the little bird still wondered if it had done anything wrong to end up here.