Two kills with one stone...

She's in a room. My bedroom. She finds her way out. "That was easy!". She flies out. Now, she's safe. Safe from what was in that room. She came to me as a sparrow in a dream.
She flies into another room. It's warm and familiar. It's home. They're dead. They're upside-down, and they're dead. And as though it weren't enough to be dead, they're in a cage. Tiny, little, bright-green, baby parrots, and they're dead, in a fucking cage. And she cant even reach them.
She's frantic. That's the word. Frantic. She screams and flies into the walls and she's in pain. And i can feel the pain. She flies back into the tragedy of the room she left. It's in falmes. She flies back to the other room, her home. Flies back to her dead, caged children. Emotions. Running wild.
She can't go near them, the cage restricts her. So she just sits there and wails as she watches them rot. Decay.
She was I.
And, though it was just a sparrow going wild and two dead parrots. This was one of the scariest dreams I've had. And there's no denying that.