Rose was the undisputed queen of her kingdom. She had been ruling for almost fifty years. Her kingdom was vast and glorious, and she would rule for many years more.
… At least that’s what the zoo sign said. First off, the only reason she was the undisputed ruler was because everyone else had died a long time ago. When Rose had first arrived, there had been others just like her. And second off,  her kingdom wasn’t truly even a kingdom. It was a prison, confining her movements to only a small grass enclosure. Rose had wandered across the bland terrain a countless number of times and was ready for something new. So tonight, Rose decided, would be the night she escaped her prison.
She waited for the sun to set. That’s when the majority of the humans left . Less prying eyes to see. Slowly, Rose dragged herself across the ground, the sinking sun casting a golden glow upon her grey, bony-armored back. Rose extended her long, wrinkled neck, gazing towards the pink and orange-streaked sky. A few sparrows fluttered above her, hurrying to their nests, lest they are caught in the night’s blanket. Rose both loved and envied the birds. They were free. They could enter and exit Rose’s prison any time they wanted,  flying over the concrete wall that kept her captive. She remembered when she was free like that. It was around fifty years ago.
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She had lived on an island shrouded in sea and fog.  There had been plenty of food, and plenty of company. There were many others just like her, grey behemoths with bony-armored backs and deep, black eyes. That was where she belonged, that was her kingdom. But then, a boat came to her paradise and turned her world upside down. Strange two-legged animals came off of these boats and approached Rose. They shot her with a needle that had looked like a red flower, and the juices within it put her to sleep. When she awoke, she was in the grassy yard she had been stuck in for the next half-century. It hadn’t been as bad back then. There had been other tortoises, but that was fifty years ago, and even then they were old. Soon Rose was alone, trapped, only with the birds to keep her company. But soon, Rose would be free again. She was sure tonight would be the night of her escape.
Slight dilemma, though; tortoises are not biologically designed to move speedily. She dragged herself along, her armored stomach sliding against the grass. One foot in front of the other, claws digging into the Earth, driving Rose to her goal. Her once confining enclosure now appeared to be very large indeed, and Rose feared that her body would fail her, fearing she was too cumbersome to reach the gates of freedom. Back when Rose was on her island, shrouded in sea and mist, she had moved at the same pace. But back then, she hadn’t seemed so slow.
Rose powered on, thinking all the while. The question that had tormented her for fifty years bounced around in her skull like a bird with a broken wing. She wondered, “Why me?” Why was it she who was  snatched from her kingdom and dumped here? Why was she the one who was kidnapped, placed in a world where she was too slow? Overcome by a bout of nostalgia for her homeland, and sorrow for her situation, Rose stopped. Was escape the answer? Perhaps there was a reason she was here. Perhaps the zookeepers would bring more turtles. But Rose couldn’t be sure. She had been the only one for many years, and it seemed unlikely that more would arrive. Rose couldn’t jump to conclusions of what was in her future until she knew why she was here. More importantly, Rose knew she couldn’t wait until she knew why she was kept captive like this because by then it might already be too late. Escape was the only solution. Having made up her mind, Rose plodded on once more, determination once again filling her ancient body.
The sun had long since bowed her mighty head, and no longer did the sparrows flutter above. Moonlight cast a silver shine onto Rose’s grey bony-armored back. She had made it to the other side of her enclosure. She was at the wooden gate that she had seen the zookeepers come through so many times before. One last time Rose wondered why it was her that was placed in isolation. It mattered not now, as such problems were behind her, for soon she would be like the birds, soon she would be how she was before; free.
Rose placed her head on the gate and pushed. And pushed. And pushed. Something was wrong. The gates wouldn’t budge. Rose scrutinized the door, scanning for what was keeping her trapped. Upon closer examination, Rose came to the conclusion that it was being held in place by a wooden plank. A minor setback, yes, but Rose had convinced herself that nothing would stand in her way. She extended her long wrinkly neck and clamped her powerful beak on the plank, and began to chew. Gnawing through the wood with a passion of sorts Rose had never felt before, the plank began to give away. Time was of the essence. Faintly in the distance Rose thought she could hear the birds awakening.
Wait! she thought. Let me come with you!
Rose worked faster, the sharp edges slowly sawing through. With a soft thud, the two halves of the plank fell to the grass at Rose’s feet. Rose filled with joy, wishing she could savor the moment, but now was not the time. She could reminisce on her success at a later date once she was free. Triumphantly, Rose placed her head on the wooden gate, gave a slight nudge, and--
Alarms. The slap of shoes running on pavement, and before Rose could comprehend the situation, she was surrounded by zookeepers she’d never seen before. They pushed her away from freedom, back to the middle of her enclosure. Rose would’ve bitten one of them, but she was too flabbergasted to react properly. A young zookeeper crouched down next to Rose and placed his hand on her shell.
“Hey, Rose,” he said softly. “Don’t try a stunt like that again, you had us worried sick!” The other zookeepers nodded and murmured their  agreement. “Y’know, you are very special,” the young zookeeper continued. “You’re one of the last Duncan Island Galápagos Tortoises left in the world!” Rose was vaguely aware that the one of the other humans was holding something, something connected to a memory from long ago…
“But don’t worry, Rose, things will be okay, everything will be just fine…”
The man Rose was watching pulled out a gun and shot a red flower into Rose, and the world blurred around her, and soon she was in a deep sleep.
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The world was very small. Walls confined Rose’s movement to less than a centimeter, and every time she tried to stretch or move at all, there was a sickening sloshing sound. Overwise, it was perfectly quiet. Rose struggled against her bonds, and to her surprise, they started to give away. After hours of thrashing and pushing, a small head finally poked out of a perfect white sphere. It was pitch black. Rose knew was that she was free quite yet. So, she started scratching at the ceiling, dirt falling with each swipe. To Rose’s surprise, there were other tortoises digging on either side of her. Her siblings. The family worked in silence, all with a single purpose in mind. There was no telling how long they worked. It could’ve been hours. Days. Weeks. A month. But it didn’t matter. Slow as they were, progress was being made. Finally, Rose and her companions rose from the ground like seedlings, and Rose took a moment to enjoy her surroundings. Towering above her was the most magnificent thing she had ever seen. A glorious cactus spread it’s countless spiny arms out far above Rose’s head, providing shade from the hot sun. The tip of each arm boasted small red flowers. Red flowers. Rose heard a screeching noise, and looked up in time to see a seagull swooping in, beak opened, eyes filled with sadistic glee.
Rose’s eyes snapped open, and a sparrow fluttered away from her nose. The sun was rising, but the moon hadn’t fully set, so an odd purplish-bronze light was cast upon Rose’s grey bony-armored back. She looked around and saw no seagulls, no cactus with red flowers. Only grass and wooden fence. Disappointed, Rose closed her eyes again.
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Rose ignored the events that went throughout her day, the human’s mindless chatter and the occasional snapping of the cameras. She had withdrawn herself from the world and was in deep thought. She now knew why she was in the zoo. She was a rare species. You’re one of the last Duncan Island Galápagos Tortoises left in the world! The words of the young zookeeper echoed in her mind. If what he said was true, the odds of another tortoise being found and put with her were not in her favor. If what he said was true, it was no wonder that Rose’s prison was under such careful surveillance. Yet still, Rose refused to accept that she was she was trapped forever. She thought about the dream she had-- more so a memory than a dream, it was.
She had been trapped then too, and she had escaped. Months had passed during her time hidden beneath the ground. At first, she had broken from her egg, only to find herself still confined. But through more work she had freed herself. Essentially, it was not one breakout, but two. Maybe a second attempt was required in her current situation as well. Perhaps last night was only stage one. This got Rose thinking even more. Was it possible that the alarms had to be reset after an animal tried to escape? And perhaps, not expecting a turtle to try twice, the alarms would be forgotten? Rose already knew that it was absurd, but she was desperate. A few sparrows flew above. Tonight, Rose would try again.
Once again, waiting until the sun had bowed her mighty head to begin her absconsion, Rose set forth, moonlight casting a silver shine on her bony-armored backed. This night, she did not stop to doubt herself. This night, she did not curse her body for being too slow. This night, Rose thought of the gate, and only of the gate.
Upon her arrival, she was delighted to see that there was no wooden plank holding her back. This was going far better than she expected. Rose extended her long neck and pushed. And pushed. And pushed. The gate wouldn’t budge. There was no plank. What was happening? Rose examined the door and found the source of her troubles. In place of the plank --shining silver in the moonlight-- was a lock. A metal box with numbers and dials and things Rose hadn’t the foggiest idea how to break. When she tried chewing through, the cold, hard material hurt her beak and filled her with an empty sensation. Devoid of any emotion she could recognize, Rose tucked her head into her grey, bony-armored back. But for once, her shell could not protect her, as this pain was not physical, but mental, as the razor sharp shards of broken dreams rained in a torrential downpour upon the mind of Rose. Her shell could not protect her now. Rose whimpered and tried shutting her body down. Clearing her head of any thoughts, impulses, whatever that tried to come in, she wished for a red flower. One thought, though, managed to stay in Rose.
Alone, sat a single turtle, dreaming of an island shrouded in sea and mist.