Caged Birds Don't Like to Sing

The trees whizzed by as I sat perfectly motionless in the car. I continued to stare out the window as Riley blathered on about the joys of her starting career as a bartender. The only breaks of silence were when she puffed on her cigarette. However, that only gave me a brief two seconds. I rolled down the window for some air that wasn’t intoxicated by the stench.

“You know,” I muttered as I brought my head back in from the window. “I should probably get home. My parents said they needed to talk to me this evening. Judging by the time, it’s getting pretty late.”

She looked towards me and gave me an unamused look. “Who cares? You’re twenty now, Rissa. You don’t need to follow their every command.”

I sighed. I’ve only been twenty for a week, and it’s not a huge step up from nineteen. I’m still young. I was in high school only about a year and a half ago.

Sometimes I feel like Riley doesn’t even know me. She doesn't even bother to try. She’s twenty-five and we come from completely different worlds. But she’s been my friend for a while. She’s had my back through and through. I guess she’s just one of those people who’s permanently in your life and you just have to deal with it.

And as much as I would like to come out and say that can’t stand the smell of her disgusting cigarette and that I’m exhausted and just want to sleep, I know that I can’t. She’d make up even more excuses that are probably more illegal than her driving without a seat belt.

“Yes, but I still would like it if you could just drop me off at home.” She didn’t reply, so I just kept talking. “Or better yet you can just drop me right off at this curb here. Yep, this one. Oh, you passed it. Just drop me off at the sidewalk--”

“--Jesus!” She screeched. Her foot plowed into the brake and we both fling forward, her farther than me because I was smart enough to wear a seat belt while driving with her. I smiled smugly knowing my annoying attitude had worked. “Just stop! Here,” she said and unlocked the door. “Go, Marissa. I bet they just have bad news anyway. Don’t expect a puppy or an award or something!”

I let out the breath I was holding in from the sudden halt of the car and started to crawl out from the passenger’s seat. “Aren’t you just charming tonight. Don’t waste all of your hospitality on me. You need to save some for those men drooling over you at the bar.”

“This isn’t like Coyote Ugly or anything!” she retorted. I just shut the door.

I wasn’t too concerned about our friendship. We always get in fights. We would make up soon. And by that I mean she’ll get so shit faced at the bar that I will wind up taking her home. Then everything will be back to normal. But, first things first; get myself on the sidewalk, rather than stand in the middle of the street. I ran once another car passed and made it just in time before three more trucks came.

I didn’t actually know exactly where I was at this point. I kind of got the impulse to start walking. Which I followed since I didn’t have any other idea. It was going to be dark at any moment. At least my suburban town is small and I can find my way around once I reach a place that looks somewhat familiar.

Eventually, I found my neighborhood. It was a major relief since it was nearly pitch black out. And only one measly street light flickered with a dim light. Useless, really. You’d expect my neighborhood to at least have working lights around here.

I live in one of the richer areas around here. That automatically made me an outcast growing up. Even nowadays. Since it is such a small city, everyone knows everyone. I still get the dirtiest glares at the bars for having a businessman dad and a mom who married rich enough to just stay at home all day on the couch eating bonbons. I don’t flaunt my money around. It’s quite the contrary. I grew up knowing that it’s my parents’ money, not mine. And if I ever screwed up, I wouldn't get a single dime of it. To be frank, we’re not that rich. Sure we have a great amount of money that got us our big, fancy house. But it’s not like my family is the next Kardashians.

When I stepped through the front door, my mother rushed to my side. “Darling, darling. Where were you?” I recoiled when she tried to wrap her arms around me. She usually made it her top priority to not care about me in any way. She’d ask me how my day was and that’d be it. Just like the standard wealthy person. She likes to think that she has more money than she actually does and that our family is above it all. It was odd for her to care for once. That’s probably why I received such a loose chain when I was in high school.

“I just had to walk home. I got a little lost,” I stammered, covering up for the lie about Riley and I getting into an argument. Not that she would care.

My father came up behind her, but didn’t say anything to me. Just gave me a stern look in the eyes. I avoided his eye contact and looked back to my mother’s worried expression. It almost seemed real. But I could still tell behind those saddened, thin eyebrows that she was lying.

“You should have called.”

“Didn’t cross my mind.” I didn’t think anyone would want to drive me home. Then again they could have just sent Joseph, our driver.

I shrugged my jacket off from my shoulders and walked past the both of them. They just stood and stared at me when I turned and plopped on the couch. After a few more moments of this had passed, I finally broke. “What?”

“Honey,” my father spoke. I instantly got a serious vibe from him. Even if he started it out with a ‘honey,' which he never did. “Your mother and I need to talk to you.”

“I know. You told me earlier,” I hesitantly said. I sat up.

My mother’s high heels clicked as she walked over like a chicken and sat in the chair beside me. She folded one leg over the other and held her chin high. “You know we only want what is best for you, right?” She leaned once the words were uttered from her tight lips. Her eyebrows sagged into a worried look.

“This is weird." I put both of my hands up, palms facing them. “I’ll admit it. I ate the last of the ice cream.” After I said it, I let out a small, sheepish chuckle to lighten the mood. My parents both know I’m a sarcastic person. Usually they just roll their eyes, but this time they kept staring at me. I lowered my hands down slowly.

“We want you to have the most out of life. And we’ve been realizing you’ve had too much slack when it comes to discipline. We think it’d be best if we could rein in your behavior,” my dad elaborated from my mother.

My mom nodded. “Yes, and by ‘we’ your father means someone else.” Just like my mom to put the responsibility in someone else’s hands. Never wanted to get her hand metaphorically dirty. Still, I had no idea where she was going with this.

I blinked a couple of times. I could feel my face slump into a frown. “I still don’t understand what you’re getting at, guys.”

“His name is Jackson. He’s a very sweet man and he’ll take good care of you,” she soothed.

“What?” I sputtered back. I grabbed a hold of the fabric on the couch. My fingers curled around it. “A doctor, right?” I asked, hoping, praying, that was the scenario.

“Not exactly....” my mother intoned.

My dad took over the conversation again. “A husband.”

“Husband?” I repeated back. I began to stand up, walking away from them. My hands flew to my head that was already shaking back and forth. “No way, man. I can definitely find someone on my own. I’m only twenty, for crying out loud! You cannot pick for me.”

“We don’t want you to make any mistakes when it comes to lovers, sweetie,” my mother’s voice tried to calm me like a child. She got up and came to my side. Both of her hands were on my shoulders. I swat them of.

“I’m not getting married!” My voice got angrier with every word that flew past my lips.

“Yes you are,” my father declared. “He’s coming over in the morning to meet you and you’re going to be a young lady about it.”

I shook my head and crossed my arms. I began to walk away. My dad grabbed my shoulder and threw me on the couch. I shrank down into the cushion. My father is a very intimidating man.

“Listen. You’re getting married. Now at least be mature about it. Okay?” His voice boomed like a drill sergeant.

“Yes.” I gave in, but only for now.

“Get up stairs.” He pointed to the large stairway behind the couch.

I pushed myself up from the couch and sauntered away. From a distance I heard my mother talk. “Do you think you were a little too harsh on her?” I stopped my next step up the stairs and listened. My muscles tightened as I hoped for a break in the system. I can’t get married.

“No. Marissa needs this,” he replied. My shoulders dropped as I continued up the stairs. His voice lightened. “We need this.”

The last part confused me. Did they really think they needed to teach me a lesson for their own good? This isn’t some lesson, this is my life they’re playing with.

Once I had changed into a tank top and some large sweatpants, I sank into the sheets. Only my eyes were visible at that point. However, they started to flutter close.

How could I possibly get married? I’m far too young, at least in my book. I’ve never even experienced the world outside of school yet. I haven’t even met the guy, either. But I bet he isn’t as thrilled about it either. I bet he’s in the same situation I am in now. It will be awful tomorrow. We’re both going to be huge crabs. Maybe then they’ll realize we shouldn’t be together.

I woke up the next morning to the sound of my mom knocking on the door. She let herself in and spoke softly. “Good morning, sweetie. Come on out.” I groaned and rolled over. I heard her footsteps as they grew near. “Get up.” She tugged the blankets off of me. I finally scrambled up and got out of bed.

“Fine,” I jeered. I passed her and started walking out the door and to the bathroom. My face was still turned so I could see her in my peripheral vision. “But don’t expect me to like him!”

I turned my face back forward just in time to run into someone. I felt their hands grab my arms and I squirmed out. I looked up to see a somewhat familiar face. Dark brown hair that had a few falling pieces that landed in his eyes. I recognized him as one of my dad’s old friend’s sons. Ever since we moved into our new house out of state, I haven’t ever heard from them again. And I’ve only seen the son, Jackson, once. Maybe at a job get-together. Never have I spoke to him. Of course it would be my dad’s idea to pin us together.

Jackson looked back at me with a small smile. “Are you in some sort of hurry?” he asked with a grin on his lips.

I took a step back and scowled. Jackson’s grin grew a little wider. “Excuse me,” I growled and looked down at my feet as I danced around him. He cocked his head up and looked at my parents innocently. They rolled their eyes.

The three of them followed me to the family room. Jackson, in particular, caught up to me and stood right in front of me, stopping me in my tracks. “Let’s talk for a bit, Marissa,” he smoothly said. I noticed that he has a Texan accent.

“I’d rather have a conversation with a hungry pride of lions."

My dad coughed. I looked up at him and his eyes narrowed. I sighed, “Fine.” And I followed him over to the couch.

My parents sat at the chairs around the couch and the three of them chatted for a bit. Mostly about stupid wedding arrangements. I kept sinking lower and lower into my seat and tried to ignore everything going on. Every so often, I would slyly scoot farther and farther from Jackson, I think he picked up on it though. Thankfully, he didn’t dare budge closer. He’d look over at me a couple of times though. I pretended to not notice and look out the window or something.

Before Jackson left, we walked him to the door. Well, correction, they walked him to the door and my mom practically dragged me by the ear. Jackson said his goodbyes and then pulled me in for a hug. My face was squished up against his chest. I struggled free from his grasp. Jackson chuckled lightly, “See you soon.” Then he door shut behind him.

“Seriously?” I pouted to my parents. They both had smiles on their faces. My dad’s arm was around my mom’s shoulder. That means they’re delighted with him. Oh joy.

“Let’s get you packing,” my mom sang.

When she led me into my room, I immediately crashed on the bed. She gripped my wrist and yanked me up. “Come on, darling. Be a champ and take one for the team.” She tossed some clothes into my arms. I dropped the clothes on the ground and rubbed my throbbing wrist.

“Take one for the team?” I asked, curiously. She didn’t say anything back, but just turned away quickly. After a silence, I spoke again. “Mom, I don’t love him.”

“But you will. You guys are immaculate. I wouldn’t have picked someone who I thought you wouldn’t like.” She kept placing random clothing pieces into the suitcases. I started pulling the blankets off my bed and folding them.

“You don’t even know me,” I said under my breath. She kept humming cheerily and packing. She knew it pissed me off more. I tried to ignore all of the thoughts that raged on in my mind. Everything that I wanted to yell while jumping around like a maniac. I imagined shouting and rampaging around and my mom running away in fear. Then I could get out of this dumb marriage. Or she’d just send me to a psycho-house. That could be better than marriage, though.

“Exactly. You’re silent.”

She walked over to me and got extremely close to my face. “I know you well enough to know that you’ll screw up your life without our aid.” Her voice was low and stern this time. I bit my lower lip and turned around quickly.

“You’ve never cared about my life before. Why now?” I fumed. Once again, she ignored me and hummed.

When we were done packing up all of my things, my room looked like a bare, white room. I sat down on my naked mattress and took a deep breath. “Bye, room,” I murmured softly. Then I laid back and hit with a little thud. The spring mattress squeaked and bounced beneath me.

I don’t really know where my parents expect me to sleep tonight. My couches are god-awful and give me a stiff neck. Well, they give everyone a stiff neck. And I don’t have any blankets or sheets on my bed. Maybe the guest bedroom. That’s something they’d do. Since I’m moving out, I’m a ‘guest’ to them now.

After another couple of minutes of soaking up the last of my room, I went to ask my parents about my sleeping arrangements. I found them both sitting over a cup of tea and glass of wine in the dining room. I walked in the doorway and held onto the frame. “Hey, where am I going to sleep tonight? I don’t really have a bed,” I asked.

My mom put on one of her fake, sweet smiles and stood up. “Oh, hm, it is about that time, isn’t it, dear?” She thought out loud. She looks at my dad. “I’ve already had my wine. Can you take her?”

“Just let our driver take her,” my dad bitterly said. Then he looked straight at me. “I don’t want to deal with her attitude when she starts to beg us to let her stay.”

Take me? Oh no, they’re taking me to Jackson’s tonight. I furrowed my eyebrows. “You’re taking me to his house, tonight?”

“Yes, of course. It’s easier this way,” my mother said. “All of your things are already in the car.” She came up to me and wrapped one arm around my neck quickly and then pulled back before I could even pat her back or something. That’s her idea of a hug. My father came up and shook my hand then gave me the same kind of hug.

“Bye,” he said, still angry.

“Toodles, sweetheart!” my mom chirped. She wiggled her fingers daintily to form some kind of wave. I guess that’s my signal to go.

I walk out of my house and get into the small limo with our driver. No use fighting my parents now, I won’t see them ever again. Doesn’t seem like they want me. And I don’t even have Riley to call.

“How do you feel about this, Joseph?” I asked the driver as he backed out away our house.

“I stay impartial to all of this. However, you should obey your parents’ orders,” he announced in his fading Russian accent, still focused on the road.

“They told you to say that, didn’t they?”

I saw Joseph look up into the rear-view mirror and noticed a smile on his face. “Yes.”

I couldn’t help but to send a soft smirk back. Joseph’s always been my favorite family member. Even though he’s not really in my family.

“Just think of it as an adventure, Ms. Marissa,” Joseph said. “Like in one of those romance/horror films, or one of those books you like to read.”

“So are you saying I’m going to get slaughtered when I go to bed tonight?” I accused jokingly.

“It could happen.”

“Thanks, Joseph."

He winked back in the mirror.

I started to stare out the window once I had realized we were heading into nowhere land. The number of houses decreased by the second as the neighbors were scattered out. “Where are we?” I asked Joseph.

“It’s far off from the city, that’s for sure. I really don't know exactly where we are. I'm just following the instructions that Jackson wrote on the paper.” He held up the paper and crinkled it around.

After some more green plains, we finally reached a relatively large, white house with black roofing. As we drove closer, I got a better view. A few windows were scattered across the house of the first level and above the little porch. It seemed like a normal house. But I was still hesitant. “No neighbors?” I asked, frantically looking around for another house. No sign.

“I guess not,” Joseph shrugged as we began to pull into the driveway.

“Oh God. He is going to get rid of me out here!”

Joseph laughed for a second. “Pish-posh. I was just kidding earlier. You’re going to be fine and have a wonderful life.”

“Yeah. That’s what you think,” I muttered under my breath.

Joseph started to get out of the car to get my things. I joined him. I never really enjoyed him waiting on me hand and foot. He did that for my parents and their pretentious attitudes. I’ve always wanted him to have some sort of break when it came to me.

“I’m going to miss you,” I admitted as I lifted a big suitcase out from the trunk. He helped me set it down. “You were the only sane person in my household.”

He chuckled lightly at that. “Thanks. I will miss you, too. But don’t worry. Hopefully things will work out here.” He shut the trunk right after he said that.

“Well. I guess this is it,” I sighed. I slung one bag over the same shoulder as my purse and then grabbed the other three. There was only one bag left that held my blankets and small furnishings. I will come back for that later.

“Good bye and good luck, Ms. Marissa.” Joseph pecked both sides of my face. Yep, we are those kind of stereotypical rich people. I used to hate it, but it’s something you get used to. I still don’t particularly like it though.

“You can just call me Marissa now,” I half-heartedly smiled back. I dragged my things off into the grass so Joseph could pull out of the driveway. I waved one more time as he left.