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Rated: E · Short Story · Entertainment · #1308440
We all keep ideas locked up, afraid of what others will think. Sometimes they escape.
It sat in the dungeon, bored. It had been in there as long as it could remember. Sometimes there were others with it, but they were all released. It alone remained, knees pulled up to its chest, sitting in the corner. Today its thick fur kept him from feeling the cold of the concrete. It blew a damp clump of hair out of its face, careful not to cut itself with its fangs. They seemed to have grown today, they used to barely stick out of his mouth, now they almost reached nose.

“He.” a voice whispered to him. “You’re a he.”

He smiled and glanced up, he had just learned something new. He’d been here his whole life, sitting in a corner of a dark cold room. At least he thought it was a room, he’d never actually explored. He knew that it would all look the same so he’d never bothered. Sometimes he wondered, especially when the others came. The last one had been a beautiful little creature. Mostly brown like himself but with bright red on it’s underside. It had been so small, able to fit in the palm of his hand. He had held it briefly and looking at him it had opened its mouth and released the most beautiful noise. Closing his eyes he could hear it again, twittering and chirping, it had lightened his spirit. Then a window appeared in the wall and it had flown from his hand straight through it. He tried to follow, but as quickly as it had appeared it was gone, and he was left staring at a blank wall, he didn’t get a glimpse of outside.

“Please,” he whispered, “Just let me out.”

“Let you out?” responded the Voice, “I can’t do that, what would people think? No you’ll have to stay here until you just disappear.”

“I can’t disappear. Now that I’m here I won’t just go away.” The Voice didn’t respond, he hadn’t expected it to. It would answer the first time but never a second, and that was ok. Once was enough to give him strength to endure. Eventually, he knew, he would get out. He sat in the corner again to wait.

Once another creature had come, one he had thought was ugly. It was huge, at least three times as long as he was tall. It was all covered with scales and had two huge leathery wings on it’s back. It hadn’t said anything, just curled up its large form and went to sleep. Smoke came from its long snout and he was afraid it would spurt fire at him. He studied it without moving, wondering what it was.

“It’s a dragon.” the voice told him. “Isn’t he beautiful, the color of rubies.” He didn’t know what rubies were but as the voice spoke the “dragon” in front of him turned a brilliant red. “He really shouldn’t be here, he needs a cave with piles of treasure.” The dragon disappeared.

“What about me, what am I?”

“You?” he felt like he was being examined. “You’re just a monster, a thing, an it.” The room returned to shades of grey and black, the brilliance of the dragon gone. At least now he was no longer just an it.

He awoke, still sitting in the corner. Today was different, fur didn’t keep him warm, his new scales just of absorbed the cold. It made him sluggish, but he couldn’t feel cold, he couldn’t really feel anything. He glanced down at his arms, scales there as well. He wasn’t surprised, sometimes when he woke up he was different, he was used to it.

“Oh, you look gross today.”

“Yesssss,” he frowned, his fangs were pointing down today, “I don’t really like thissss.”

“Well I’m sure you’ll be different tomorrow.” and the voice was gone again.

When next he awoke he felt different, taller. He stood up and looked down. He had paws for feet, still normal sized but with large nails like a wolves. His legs were more muscled, as were his torso and arms. All was covered with a soft fine hair, not enough to really keep him warm. He held out a hand, it looked normal but it also had what looked like nails coming from it, they retracted like a cats. He felt his face, it felt slightly elongated, and his fangs were shorter again. This time they didn’t push out of his mouth.

“Oh how I wish I could be outside like this.” A crack opened in the wall, not large, just enough for him to see out of. The grass was green and lush, it called for him to run through it.

“But once people see you what will they think of you.” the voice sounded worried but he didn’t care.

“It doesn’t matter what people think.” The crack got wider, he shoved an arm through. A warm breeze rippled his fur and he sighed happily.

“They’ll think I’m weird.”

“So let them.” He pushed his upper body through the ever widening hole.

“You do look really cool.”

“I’d look better with stripes.” Brown stripes spread down his black fur. He felt the need to climb, off in the distance a jungle appeared.

The hole tightened on him. “I don’t want people to see you.”

“I want to see people.” He forced his way out of his box and ran.

Quickly the voice grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down her story before she could talk herself out of it again. She finished and reread it. “He does look cool.” She said, watching him run through the jungle.
© Copyright 2007 Jennifer (jdnstory at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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