you might tire of me

At the foot of a tree, Adelaide is standing, unaware to the realization of fact or fiction. Whether it is real or not, she is here, standing at the base of this great tree who's species to her is unknown. She feels so very close, close to something familiar. Closer to something she remembers. Maybe love, maybe pain. She cannot be certain. Familiarity is a strange and foreign notion to her of late. She seems to have left the past behind her, like sand by the sea. It sits there and stays there. Carried occasionally into the depth by its watery grave, and oh, how she wishes it would die. She wishes the past to die, so that she may move forward. Chains around her ankles, weights of  great mass strapped to the only source she has to run and she is stuck. Stuck at the base of this tree. You might tire of me, while our December sun is setting. Cause I'm not who I used to be.. She is so very changed. A warm, summery breeze blows through and plays with her hair, making her want to dance. Dance for joy, release, or simply because she can. For ability. But where is love? Where is passion? Where is depth and understanding? What? Why? Where has she gone?
She has been reduced to a shadow in a game of hide and seek. And those she loves so are coaxing her out of hiding for what seems to have been for years now. Trying to help, but in essence, only want her back. But she's not coming back.
 She thought a bird to be a most wonderful thing to be. Not if all she does is fly away. People are worth sticking around for, right? Sometimes, she supposes. It's easier to run away. Especially with all the chaos humans make. She simply wants to scream "NO MORE SOUND!! NO MORE IDLE CHATTER! NONE!" Her mind hurts from the dystopia. But the odd thing about the place where she has found herself is that it is quiet. No one is here but her and what is familiar. and she doesn't know if she should fly away or make herself at home.
Before her appears the man again. He holds a wall mirror in his arms. She opens her mouth to greet him, but his eyes refuse her from speaking. She looks in the mirror and sees nothing short of a monster. An abhorrent creature. And it is her. She looks at him in quizzical horror. His face serious and tight lipped. His expression tells her words are unnecessary. And best is such for both of them. What have I become? He places the mirror on the ground and in his hand is a stone. He shows it to her as to demonstrate and drops it on the glass. It seems as though the glass is water and the surface breaks eerily. In a broken up mess, she sees my real reflection again. I am broken far beyond repair. "Beyond human repair, I hope you mean." He whispered. She looked at him, puzzled. "How can you tell me that this is fixable?" He looked at her, then the pieces. Then her again. "Anything is possible." She faced down, ashamed. "I feel like I've done a terrible thing. I hurt one of the things I love most. I hurt so much but can only say sorry." he placed an index finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. "You are forgiven."

He disappears as he does with a small breeze to follow. She hears rustling in the leaves above her. The knots and branches on the tree are perfect for climbing. She scales the branches closer to the ground with ease but the ones higher above prove more difficult. Whatever it is that is the ultimate goal, is worth the trouble. She smells a familiar scent. One she gave to one she loves most. She follows it and finds her. "Deirdre?" her voice a whisper