Hawla

are lifting. Then there came a rustling from the outside, the birds began to flap their wings, and thus, began their journey into the vast, blue sky. Leaving in their wake, Rosa, who's stuck behind the confines of her hut. Envious. Frustrated with reality, she's been dealt with. Unable to pursue simple fancies like running barefoot outside, interacting with people her age, or even knowing the world beyond the scope of their rural group.

A bitter smile crossed her face. Her plight was unfortunate, her situation almost reminiscent of those birds, but unlike those free spirits, she is trapped. Caged. Hidden away to become a vessel tradition, of their waning culture, of people stuck in the ideals of the past. The door to her room opened. Her mother emerged, feeling giddy, a smile plastered on her face. "It is time, Rosa."

It felt like she was being doused in cold water. A heavy feeling began to settle within her, and she collapsed, her feet giving way. Her mother ignored her. Apids (or female servants) entered her small room; seeing her in a state of undress, they began to help her. She wasn't paying attention. She remembered the birds, how freely they soar in the sky, how far they can reach the heavens. In that moment of desperation, she wanted to disappear, to fly away. Far from this suffocating reality, far from the mandate of her family, far from this fate of hers, far away.

_______

She ran.

Rosa ran away.

Her unsteady feet are taking her anywhere but home. The steady wind pushing away her raven hair from her face dried with tears; it was cropped short, strands all over the place. She didn't care. Bringing the blade against her long, ebony hair was a decision she didn't regret at all. The heavy feeling is gone, the restraints beginning to loosen. She stopped. It was night. Bruises of purple and blue marked the sky, dense clouds forming, and the moon hiding behind the mists. Tall trees surrounded her. No one can find her here now. Not her mother, not the man who's ten years her senior, no stuffy servants crowding her, and most significantly, no room to hold her back. No cage to shackle her. Tears began to well in her eyes. She laughed, hands upright mimicking the same dance she did earlier, hands outstretched, a swift and free bird she was. Feet are trampling against the leaves and dirt, the feeling foreign to her and yet comforting.

Fate led her down this path.

Alone in the woods. She felt a pull to her surroundings. Amidst the looming trees, the gentle whispers of the winds, the birds, and every creature alike, she belonged. And somehow, she felt that she is part of these woodlands. To nature. The elders believed that spirits live within these sentient guardians. Are they here to guide her or warn her? Value of Tradition or her Selfexpression? Education or marriage?

For now, she enjoys her freedom. Whatever tomorrow may bring, she will accept fully— everything has a purpose. In the end, it's up to her on which path she'd choose. There are two paths before her. Will she follow the voice of nature back home or, like an uncaged bird, soar to new possibilities?