A lonely girl sat at her windowsill, fated to watch the world pass by. She observed her parents traveling to work, waving back to her. She saw her younger brother and sister run around the playground hand-in-hand. She saw her neighbors chat with their children and witnessed the children play amongst themselves.

She watches as the birds sing in the morning and as the trees waver in the wind. However the cool air that embraced the trees never seemed to reach her; since not a single crack punctured the sill where she sat. She could not hear the birds’ song since the window was tightly shut near her ear. It had been such a long time since she was able to exist in that distant world and not just watch it. She longed to breathe the unreachable brisk air, to sing with the birds and to dance with the trees. But she thought it impossible.
And when she nearly gave up on longing that impossible dream, and her own world began to dull, she was gifted with breath-taking wings. Silky white without feathers of any kind, she found them after she once woke from her slumber. She wasn’t sure what the velvety wings were made of, or where they came from, but she was too happy in her delighted discovery to wonder much more.
Inspired, she pulled and pushed at the window that held her, but it refused to budge. She tried to fly through it, break it, anything that might greet her with freedom. She pounded on it with her fist once. Then twice. A third, a fourth. She slumped onto the ground. On the fifth, a crack appeared. It was small, and the winged girl did not notice it until her fist connected with the glass again. She quickly straightened herself once again.
After that tiny sign of hope, she continued until a hole was made. She daydreamed while she worked at the cracks. She dreamt of flying with the birds and resting on the tops of the trees. She dreamt of talking to the people she had seen in the window. She wondered what kind of people they were and if she could really fit into a world she had only watched.
The hole grew and grew by her efforts until it was large enough for her to climb through. When she realized she could leave, she cried. Her tears of joy cascaded a waterfall. The water flowing her face covered her surroundings. Her hands, cut and bloody with shards of glass, washed themselves clean, slowly healing into scars. Her clothes were torn and her hair was tangled. It was in her tattered appearance, a much darker revelation came.
She looked over her shoulder and found her wings limp. She had tired herself so much that she could no longer lift her wings. She could no longer fly out. A fatigue overtook her in her struggle that couldn’t be cured by any amount of resting. She had been careless in her escape, and now could no longer climb outside the window. She collapsed in her sudden despair and her tears turned into ones of sadness. The lonely girl sat at her broken window, fated to watch the world pass by, no matter her endeavors.