Alfred POV

Yesterday, Pretty Boy didn't look so good. I was a little worried... But now, I'm worried about something else... Ma'am and some of the other boys saw me writing and folding up planes. Ma'am warned me that if she found me doing it again, she'd take away my paper privileges. If that ever happened, I'd never have a way to talk to Pretty Boy.

I decided to write at night.

I waited by the window for Pretty Boy. It took a while, but he slowly made it to the fence. He looked up from underneath his hat, his sad brown eyes looked right at me. He tossed the plane, which I caught almost immediately. I opened it quickly.

Dear Orphan Boy,

I am so sorry about everything that you wrote about... I wish I could help you...

I would love to know your name.

Sorry for the short letter,

Pretty Boy.

I looked up, and once again, he was gone.

I sighed, and tossed the letter in the shoe box beneath my bed. I took a paper, and a pen, and slid them beneath my pillow.

I sat at my window, on my uncomfortable chair, and watched the birds. They were free... as free as I wished I could have been... as free as my brother probably was... free. And all I could do was spectate. When freedom is given to me, I will certainly not take it for granted.