I stare up at the stars, the aching pain of the destruction of my wings still coursing throughout my body. The night sky mocks me with its seemingly unending expanse. My wings flutter in a futile attempt at escape. There is no hope here. My eyes are flooded with tears and my heart keeps shattering into pieces as I feel the delicate softness of my wings under my feet. I collapse back into a heap on the floor, frustrated and overwhelmed at my situation. My lips are salty from the continual tears that run down my face. I shut my eyes and force myself to sleep. The morning dawns with an angry red sky and ferocious winds are chilling me to the bone. I stare up again at the walls of my prison, what little hope I had of the morning bringing a better situation leaves me. The walls are still wet and slick, an impossible climb. My throat tightens and I let a fresh wave of tears run in rivulets down my cheeks. I pull the remnants of my silken wings toward me and hold it in my arms. I am so weak.
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