8/10/2019 English Creative Writing - Birds Were Never Meant To Fly

1/2

Belonging Creative HSC Final

Birds Were Never Meant To Fly

Her head jerked back. Her hair strained. The elder yanked again. And again. Shesuppressed a yelp as her dark hair was bunched and knotted with bright cotton threads.

Ying Lang lifted her head, and tried to look past the numerous attendants into the

mirror, but her vision was obstructed and she could only see fragments of herself. The

elder finished the coiled braids and exclaimed with a triumphant Ha! before draping a

heavy red veil over Ying Langs face.

Its time Ying Lang, theyre waiting,

Ying Lang shuffled to the door. She crammed her feet into the tiny red slippers. She felt

her toes cramp and curl in the too-small shoes. She took a step and winced; but steadied

herself and limped out the door.

*

Ying Lang! Come back! Stop running! Go put some shoes on at least!

I laughed as Mamas voice trailed far behind me, growing more distant with every leap.My hair streamed joyfully on the crisp breeze and the paved streets gave way to rich,

moist soil as I flew across the mountain plateau. I took a long breath, reveling in the

bouquet of fragrances; the musky scent of goats watched over by their goatherds and

the distinct smell of jasmine flowers blossoming haphazardly across the plain. Thebroad landscape before me was glorious and mysterious; I felt like a small but perfect

piece of the puzzle that was the untamed yet alluring Fu Zhou province. I closed my

eyes, laughing and spinning with my arms out, basking in the invigoratingsense of

freedom.

But then I smelt guo tie dumplings.

The smell of food reminded me of why mama had been calling me; it was almost

lunchtime. I made my way back, hoping that mama wouldnt be too angry. As I passedthrough the village, a sense of unease gripped me. The hunched form stumbled on the

uneven pavement. Composed herself. Stumbled. Fell to the ground. She winced as shepicked herself up and balanced on her miniature feet. My heart was sorrowful as I

watched grandma gather her skirts and hobble away, thankful that feet bind was no

longer practiced.

Ying Lang, there you are! Get in here right now and take out the chopsticks and mats,

lunch is ready! Aiyah your feet are all dirty againWhat am I going to do with you....

*

Every step she took sent a jolt of pain up her leg as she hobbled over to the waiting jianyu. Relief flooded her as she was finally able to sit down, quickly followed by

8/10/2019 English Creative Writing - Birds Were Never Meant To Fly

2/2

apprehension at what the bridal carriage symbolised. The men grunted with effort as

they lifted the jian yu onto their shoulders and set off. The heavy red cotton obscured

the view down the mountain, but she could hear and smell what she couldnt see. The

birds still sang, the goats still bleated and the sweet aroma of jasmine drifted

tantalizingly though the cloth that screened the litter.

The mens breathing grew laboured and their strides became shuffles. The birds grew

silent and the goats stopped bleating. The smelland stenchof smoke, the stink of

decaying flesh and drying leather all surrounded the carriage. Ying Lang could feel her

breathing come in short gasps and the sickening odours wrapped themselves around

her, encasing her in a second prison within the jian yu. She became acutely aware of the

heavy clothes weighing her down and the heavy cloth walls enclosing her. She was

trapped.

*

The bird sat in the cage. Mama and baba had said that I should not have taken it from

the nest but it had been a tiny bundle and was lying there alone, I could not bear to

leave it. I gazed wonderingly at the creature as it stared intently out the window,

watching a flock of sparrows fly by. Sometimes I regretted imprisoning it, but could it

survive beyond the cage? I provided it with everything it could ever wish for: food,

shelter, safety. I smiled tenderly at the creature; it must be as baba says, you dontknow what is best for you, Im doing this for your own good.

*

It was dark. The valley between the mountains was far from the heavens and smoke

obscured the stars. The bridal procession had stopped in front of the imposing gates

that stood open. Ying Lang eyed the crimson drapes and fire crackers hanging from theentrance and all throughout the hallway of the house. She turned her face to the ground

and bit her lip. The smell of guo tie frying, once a welcomed aroma, now sent waves of

nausea through her. Ying Lang took a deep breath and placed one foot over the

boundary between the house and the courtyard. Then the other. Tears trickled onto her

veil as she shuffled through the hallway and made her way to the ceremonial room. She

had nowhere left to run.

*

Mama stood at the door.

It has been arranged Ying Lang, your father has decided. The wedding will be in a

month.

I opened the cage.

But the bird could not fly.

862