The Raven

One

Locked in the castle tower without even a name, the raven dreams of one day being free. Throughout his eighteen years, he has learned the hard way, it seems, that dreams are not meant for disgusting creations like him--no, dreams are reserved only for those of high status and beautiful faces.

In the dull and dreary grayness of the concrete room, he sits idly upon the windowsill. With his slender body pressed firmly against the unwashed glass, one might say it appears as if he has somehow molded to it in his attempts to get as close as possible. The raven's dark hair drapes around his face and shoulders, acting as a curtain before cascading down his back. His even breaths fog the dusty pane before him as he stares intently out the window, his entire being utterly transfixed by the view just out of his reach.

A coldness lingers in the air, a familiar chill that hangs in the lonely silence of the tower. It is the only companion the boy has ever truly known. He almost considers it an acquaintance of sorts, a slight semblance of what he could only perceive friendship to be; unfortunately, he has naught to compare it to. Although, a creature like himself does not deserve to find such solace in the menial offerings of his own presence. No, he deserves to suffer in his solitude forevermore.

His fingers daintily trace against the once transparent barrier, the only thing separating him from the place he so desperately wants to be, itching to touch the brightly-colored blossoms below. He can only imagine how the delicate petals of the flowers would feel against his fingertips, how the wind would caress his face and tousle his long hair. Oh, how he longs to see the beautiful garden up close, to breathe it in. He yearns to simply stand there, surrounded by the innate beauty, and inhale deeply, allowing it to fill his lungs and his heart. Every fiber of his soul aches with the desire to be released from the invisible shackles restraining him. He hungers to step outside the prison he has been confined to for the whole of his life.

Just a single step would suffice.

Just a moment.

If only he could have the chance to explore the world's wonders that lie just outside of his grasp, simply taste the fresh air, and let the sunshine warm his pale skin. He does not necessarily need to see the garden specifically; even the drafty hallway outside his bedroom would satisfy him.

Unfortunately for the raven, those dreams could never become a reality. His desires will only fester and eventually provoke an even more profound hatred for the life he has been destined to live. Or doomed to, perhaps. Monstrosities like him should forever remain hidden from the world for the greater good. This is the reason he has ultimately been locked away, high in the otherwise empty tower where no one must be forced to look upon his hideousness for even a second. With the exception of his mother, that is. Dreams are wasted on creatures such as the raven. At least, that is what he has been told for as long as he can remember.

While he knows he should not, thanks to his mother's constant reminders, Raven cannot help but continue to dream at every given opportunity. He continues to hope, to wish for just a tiny taste of the freedom he has always craved.

"Raven?" a voice calls from behind him, immediately drawing his attention away from the green foliage and the multicolored blooms.

The boy knows that voice; it is the only voice he remembers ever hearing in his eighteen years of life. A voice that should offer him comfort and warmth, yet instead, it brings only a foreboding feeling of dread, causing his anxiety to rise to untamable heights. Swallowing hard, he blinks back the moisture that is suddenly clouding his eyes. Tearing himself away from the window and the enchanting view of the palace garden, the raven steels himself in preparation for whatever is about to be hurled at him, knowing wholeheartedly that nothing good will come of the woman's sudden appearance. He momentarily hesitates before responding, knowing his apprehension will only anger her further. He cannot help it, though; this woman truly terrifies him to the depths of his being.

"Yes, Mother?" he finally replies, pushing down the nervous feeling bubbling in the pit of his stomach. It takes far more effort than he would like to expend upon such a task, but he knows better than to enrage the woman who created him. She has a habit of reminding him that she can expel him from this world just as easily as she brought him into it whenever she is angry at him. The boy is actually quite surprised by the levelness of his voice despite the thundering emotions within him, especially in his mother's presence.

"Are you dreaming again, Raven?" Mother asks, her disdain for him evident in her tone; she had stopped trying to hide her negative feelings for him years ago. She is quite a firm believer that honesty is the best policy when it comes to those you love. Or do not love, in this case. "I thought I told you that it was a waste of time, that you should rather be working on honing your powers instead. There are repercussions for such recklessness, you know. And I am unsure whether or not you would be able to withstand the severity of them."

"Yes, Mother," the raven answers almost mechanically, feeling much like an utter waste of space. Something about how his mother constantly reprimands him leaves him feeling insignificant. Her treatment of him makes him feel small and trapped, similar to a caged bird.

Or, perhaps, it could be the fact that he actually is a caged bird.

"There shall be no more of that, you hear me?" Mother says sternly, narrowing her dark eyes at the insolent boy. After all this time, she still cannot find even a sliver of affection within herself for him; in fact, she finds his existence particularly irritating, if she is honest. There is not a day that goes by that she does not regret his creation. Whatever she was thinking all those years ago obviously had not been her most exceptional idea. Oh, well; it is far too late to change things now. "For I have a plan to carry out," she continues, blatantly ignoring the pained expression on the creature's face, "and I need you to be prepared for when the day comes to fulfill your role. Remember, failure is entirely unacceptable."

"Yes, Mother," he dutifully replies, his eyes locking onto the floor under his mother's feet. He cannot stomach the way she is looking at him right now. The way she always looks at him. As if she despises the very idea of him. Although he figured out a long time ago that his own mother hates him, it is an undoubtedly worse feeling to see it clearly displayed on her face.

"Splendid. Now get back to practicing; we need to have your magic perfected promptly to ensure you will be ready. The time will be upon us before you know it," Mother demands before leaving the room, locking the door behind her, as always.

Left alone once again, the boy lets out a long sigh, wishing he had been given a different life. Eighteen years is an incredibly long time to be alone.

His feet shuffle slowly across the dirty floor as he crosses the darkened room, ungracefully dropping himself onto the small bed in the corner. With his head buried in his hands, the raven whispers to himself, attempting to console his aching heart. If only his mother was one who could love her only child. Perhaps, then, he would have been allowed to step foot outside of his dingy room at the top of the tower. Maybe he could have had the chance to live among the people and become one of them...

That thought quickly escapes him, however.

For even if he had had the opportunity, it would not have been possible. It simply could not be--as his face is much too grotesque for anyone to lay eyes upon. Just a glimpse of him could be utterly traumatizing for anyone unlucky enough to gaze upon his wretched features.

For the raven is too ugly for even his own mother to love.