Lilly Belle

She wakes herself up, crying in the night, plagued by demons from her past who aren’t done with her yet. Now she’s safe, a life of comfort. But her early years spent as nothing more than breeding stock, have taken their toll. Blind, deaf, she can only outrun her old life in daylight, rolling on her back in damp grass, raising her nose into breezes seasoned with the scent of saltwater and freedom. But sleep is seductive on dark nights, urging her to think it’s all over, not clearly sure of just what it was anymore. The ghosts in her dreams reappear to drag her back into memories that cause her to cry out. Only for herself, by herself. I jump up with the first soft moan, rushing to her side to tell her it’s OK. Greed took away her sight and hearing before she was even conceived. Defenseless property of owners with a darker blindness, relegated to life in a cage. Nothing more than a womb used to produce more of the same. Sitting next to her in the dark, my hands on her body, rubbing reassurance through her short black hair. Her smell the comfort of familiarity. I whisper softly into her ear: “It’s OK girl, it’s OK.”… and feel her relax as the nub of her truncated tail starts to flutter like a hummingbird’s wing.