(This took so long lol sry about that.)

Nova walks along the pathway, a bridge across the ocean. Her brother is up ahead and she begins to run. “Nova?” Raindrop says with a hopeful smile and a light in his eyes.

But then he begins to cry and the smile drops. Nova realizes his wings are torn and suddenly he’s much taller than her, or maybe she’s suddenly shrunk, and he’s looking down in anger and disgust. “I thought you would protect me.” His voice is strange and angry. Nova can’t help him.

She is so small.

_“Raindrop! I’m so sorry! I never meant to hurt you!” Suddenly he’s laughing and it shakes the world. _

When he catches his breath he yells, “that’s all you ever do, don’t you!?” He’s still laughing and the bridge starts crumbling. “I hate you I hate you I hate you!”

Nova falls into the water, suffocating, trying to swim to the surface. In a dazed horror she sees the broken bodies of Mateo and Flair and… Mama drifting down, blood seeping from their wounds.

She dives to grab them but she can’t, she’s not strong enough. She’s not fast enough.

All she can do now is try to get to the surface.

Reaching up, beating her arms and legs, dead bodies all around her. Ones she recognizes and ones she doesn’t. Except when she thinks hard she does know them. Her old teacher from two years ago that taught her how to draw. The little kid that walks with his sister each morning. She even sees the storyteller that was born with only one wing.

All of them are dying. All of them and it’s her fault!

She can’t breathe. So close! Her lungs are about to explode! She can’t-

I gasp for air, awakening with a start.

The dream slips away from my memory almost immediately, leaving only a sense of dread and sadness. But more than that, just a painful feeling of loneliness.

Flair and Mateo are still sleeping in the same room as me. I still haven’t figured out clocks completely, but the one here say 5:48 AM. Is that early for these people? Probably. The whole house is quiet and moonlight shines in from a window.

I’m tired. So tired.

I wonder if Flair and Mateo have ever felt this deep aching sadness. I wonder if anyone in this house has. I can’t sleep, I picture Raindrop, the fear in his eyes when I saw him that last time.

Sighing, I stand up and look through the window. Gentle rain pitter-patters against the glass. I breathe in, and out. In for four, hold for four, out for four, hold for four. It’s a trick my mom taught me to calm myself down. It doesn’t work. I try to quietly open the door, but it creaks loudly. Mateo stirs, but flair is still fast asleep.

I freeze and wait, but then Mateo just rolls over and keeps sleeping. Slowly… one step at a time… quietly… gently closing the door behind me, I emerge into the dining room.

I wonder if this is another mind trick.

Maybe nothing is real anymore.

Not me, nor Raindrop.

I walk back into my room, slowly closing the door behind me. This place scares me. I don’t want to find something I shouldn’t.

I lay down, knowing I won’t be able to go back to sleep.

You fell from the sky, And I fell for you

You were broken, Bloody and bruised on the ground

And as I carried you And looked down at your bloody, beautiful face

I realized I would never have a chance To be with you

For you were immortal And I a mere human had fallen for you

Fallen head over heals for you To the point were

My heart hurt My soul hurt My body hurt My mind hurt

I wanted you so badly But I knew that if I left you

My heart would heal My soul would sing My body would dance My mind would think

And I would get over you And leave you for someone else

It would leave a tiny memory locked in a chest were no one would find it So I left you

This has been sitting in my drafts for months, haha. Thought I should finally just post it and stop tweaking. Feedback appreciated!

——— • ——— • ———

We were happy.

High enough to touch the clouds, fingers pulling through soft wisps, dragging through the endless swathes of pink.

You kissed a heartbeat into me. You kissed words onto my tongue.

The sun peaked overhead as your skin shone a cool, bright gold. I remember trying to find a synonym for beauty. I realized I’d used them all up.

Then I realized that nothing would be enough. There is no clever turn of phrase that describes she who glows by day and by night, the creature that laughs so swiftly and speaks so softly that it is envied by the wind.

We were there, dancing on the edge of everything, towering high enough to feel like birds.

I pried your trembling hands apart and held them to my heart.

“Don’t fall,” I cautioned. I’m sure you could feel my heart rabbiting under your fingertips.

“What happens if I do?”

My hands came to rest like warm stones behind your shoulders.

“You lose your Grace. Your… you-ness. The thing that makes you distinguishable from trees, from the sky, from me.”

“… from you?”

The clouds drew close to us, blushing shades of apricot and honeycomb, as I spoke of other things, and you answered.

——

You must have had some notion planted in you by the moon as we slept, for the following morning, you were too quiet.

“What is it?”

There was a kind of earnestness written on your brow, and near your eyes. A puzzling out, a searching, a sifting.

“Am I real?”

Reflexively, I reached out to touch your arm. The question alarmed me. It was like someone had taken the cool, eggshell sky and splattered a streak of red paint across it.

It was wrong, the way that asking the clouds why they cried was wrong. It shook the implicitly known order of things.

“My Grace. Your… Grace. Do we know if that even exists? What if it’s a lie?”

The world went a hard, bony white, like I’d taken a punch to the head.

All I remember is your sun limned hands reaching, reaching for me as I staggered as though dazzled by the presence of a god.

“You… We…” I paused to clear my throat. “You’re thinking about jumping, aren’t you?”

You smiled through parted lips, but I could tell that the expression was a lie.

“We’ve been here too long,” you whispered. “Come dance with me.”

I could not stop watching. I could not stop holding your hands as you walked backwards. I felt the wind scrape salt from my cheeks.

“Don’t you want to?” Your question dropped down my throat and into my stomach like a stone.

No, I didn’t say. No, I don’t want to fall. With or without you. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose our high, sunny slice of paradise.

“Come,” you said, tipping backwards.

I didn’t even have time or breath to call out your name. Not even one last time.

——

I watched us falling as if in fragments, a stuttering roll of film. Your aura dimmed and brightened, dimmed and brightened. You were burning. I was burning.

The Grace was being burned out of us.

——

I didn’t register the impact.

I don’t remember the cry of anguish that must have torn itself from my chest. There you lay, broken at nearly every joint. Your skin was dull, your blood no longer silk blue but an angry red.

That was how it happened, darling.

That was how we became human.

(The other parts are in my bookmarked section, sorry again this took so long, the next part should be sooner? No promises though lol. And thank you Jewelie Rain for the name suggestions!)

I still can’t process this. I don’t know how to process this. There are two mages and five people with wings.

And it turns out, the broken down shack was actually an illusion by the mages! It’s basically a castle in reality!

I am not alone here, and maybe I can get back. Maybe…

Venika freaked out at first when she realized I had wings, my heart skipped a beat, a tear rolled down my cheek. But then she hugged me, and for the first time in weeks I felt the comfort of wings wrapping around me.

It felt nice.

These people, how did they get here?

Venika had asked, “Flair, how did she get here?” And Flair explained. If there’s a mage surely he’d be able to get me back home! She offered to let us all stay a few days, which Flair and Mateo agreed to.

Right now I pick at my dinner, reviewing the past events in my mind, something heavy in my chest. Is it fear of not being able to go home? I should’ve found hope in these people, but it’s like my brain is stalling behind. I’m sure I’ll feel better soon.

They’ve been nice so far, right?

I start to listen in on their conversation.

Madeline, one of the mages, mentions a device she found that could help them in their plight, an amulet of some sort. What is their plight? No one has really mentioned any more details about it, but they seem to want something other than to go home.

Are they staying here on purpose? Who would want to stay in this place where night is day and weird machines buzz and shine all the time no matter how late and no matter how dark?

“Maybe we could get the kid to help distract the shopkeeper.” Aiden says with a laugh. He has light red wings, but not quite pink.

Everyone is laughing and looking at me now. Oh. I’m ’the kid’. They’re laughing at me, aren’t they? I feel their eyes burning into me, and I force a smile.

Do they steal or something?

At least I’ll be home soon. Then I can forget about these weird people. Besides Mateo and Flair, I don’t want to forget them. What will happen to us after this? Will I just leave them?

Eve has been glaring at me. She has green eyes and green wings, yet ginger hair. I force a smile. It feels wrong, there’s a feeling in my stomach that weighs me down.

She doesn’t smile back. She just rolls her eyes. Venika nudges her, probably trying to be subtle. I see all their attempts at being nice. It’s kinda comforting that at least someone isn’t pretending, but it still is weird that Eve is just staring at me.

It is actually just really uncomfortable.

Suddenly the smell of all the fish, fruit, bread, it all makes me want to vomit.

This place is strange and it’s nothing like home and I want my mom. I bite my tongue so that I don’t cry.

Luckily I’m seated between Flair and Mateo. It feels as if they’re protecting me, which maybe, they are.

Eve finally speaks instead of just glaring at me, she says, “why are you really here? How am I supposed to believe you just washed up on the shore with only wing injuries? And why would the only people who wouldn’t turn you into the police or scientists so happen to find you? The whole story just doesn’t seem very plausible.”

Oh.

I stutter a bit, but finally am able to say, “I, I don’t know. I know I’m lucky, but I’m not, not, lying.” Mateo passes some spice or sauce or something to Flair and it takes my brain a few moments to process that he is trying to protect me from Eve’s gaze.

But Eve doesn’t respond, she just rolls her eyes.

Mateo is quick to back me up. “I promise you she’s telling the truth, I’m actually the one who found Nova, and everything that she says is correct.”

“How should I trust you after what happened?!” Eve says, raising her voice and slamming her fists on the table.

Incredulous, Mateo responds, “I thought you were over that!”

“Over that? You think I was over that?!”

“Now is not the time!”

“Why, because there’s a kid here?”

“Maybe!”

This wasn’t what I was expecting when Mateo and Flair wanted me to meet someone who could help me get home. Did they seriously just start yelling the moment they got angry? Maybe humans are like that, but what happened to the integrity we’re taught back home? If I stay here will I behave erratically when I’m angry like them?

Flair takes my hand and leads me away to another room. She look genuinely guilty, even though it’s not her fault. “I’m so sorry about that. Eve and Mateo have a bit of a history.”

I don’t know what to say. I don’t say anything.

“So uh I’ll show you where your sleeping. She leads me to a room with three beds in it. “Me and Mateo will be sleeping in the same room as you, if you’re alright with it.”

I nod, my throat dry.

“I’m sorry this hasn’t been exactly what any of us were expecting.”

“It’s ok.” I say, because that’s what people are supposed to say, right?

She starts to walk towards the door, then pauses. “Do you want to finish your dinner?”

“Um… no thanks.”

“Ok. I’ll bring you something later in case you get hungry.”

“Ok. Thanks.”

Closing my eyes, I try to imagine seeing my mom and brother again. I try to imagine the joy on my and their faces. They must be so worried. I really hope Raindrop isn’t blaming himself.

Imagining just makes me feel worse.

The distinct sound of rain pitter-pattering on the roof almost calms me. It’s gentle and not at all like the storm that got me here.

I need to get out of here.

I walk towards the back door of my room, not really knowing where it led. Ahead of me is another room with a couch, a tv, and a piano in it. Strange. There’s a door that looks like it might lead outside, I open it, and emerge into a garden of some sort.

Roses line the area for as long as I can see.

This house is really big.

At least I’m outside. The rain is dripping down my face, and I tiptoe between plants.

I don’t see any exit, or even fence.

Eventually, I lie down in between rose bushes, feeling the gentle rain on my face, closing my eyes, and taking a deep breath. Now there’s a new feeling. Nostalgia? No, that’s not the word for it.

Melancholy.

But something is wrong. Something about this unsettles me and I immediately sit up. It’s like I can feel the rain but I can’t really know it, like a broken record it just keeps repeating in the same pattern.

The roses waver and glitch? I’m no longer wet, the rain isn’t real. What’s happening?!

My surrounding crumble before me, I scream, but no sound comes out. A crack splits across the garden and even my wet clothes. I’m split in two and it’s so painful.

The garden is breaking apart and I’m falling again and again and again and- It’s gone. The roses and rain and sky and garden, it’s gone. The cracks are gone too. I’m not even feeling any pain anymore.

Finn, the other mage is standing at the edges of a small room, snickering. “You’ve got a gift, you’ve broken free of my illusions faster than any other person in this place.”

There is no rain pattering on the roof. No garden. No roses. No peace.

Feeling stupid and foolish and childish, I sit down and begin to laugh. Of COURSE it’s not real! The one moment of peace I have just has to be completely fake! Why not?! Why the hell not?!

I should never have come here.

I don’t want to be here.

What am I supposed to say

I tell myself it’s okay, I tell myself not to compare, But what I can observe I compare myself too. I can’t fight a reflex. I couldn’t keep myself from running from a bear. I can’t keep myself from comparing myself to every person I hold dear.

I hate this dance. I know every step. I know the accompanying music, An annoying manufactured track. I’m not quite sure who made me like this. Maybe I’m just like this. I tell myself to stop focusing on the details, To stop focusing on other people, To focus on myself. But It doesn’t end well, When I focus on myself. For some people, The longer they stare at a picture, The better they do at spot the difference. For me the original just becomes so distorted. Everything gets blown out of proportion.

If I can’t look at others and I can’t face a mirror, Then where are my eyes supposed to wander? Out the window of these hollow classrooms? To the branches, The treetops?

I picture sitting there, Way up high. When gravity is the only thing holding me down. I fly away from myself.

“look at us” she said i’ve heard it countless times unbelievable truths can’t spill out of the confines of rhymes

“our reputation precedes us” and that at least is true because who would think the good girls could have ever done this to you?

but i am sick of relying upon my carefully crafted good name doesn’t the world have the right to know i share in the sinners’ shame?

with a sickening smile and a flick of my hair your life has been ruined it’ll never be fair

selfish, perhaps we are but it would always come to pass as will the chiming of the bells the shattering of the glass

i’ll lay roses upon your grave the same one i lowered you into why do i always do the dirty work? spit out what they couldn’t chew

i’m so close to breaking now my persona is quietly cracking let me guess, another coup? our crimes continue stacking

“you’ve done nothing wrong” of course, thanks to my good name everyone else is always the villain but in truth, we’re one and the same

because despite my guilt i won’t alter the course of fate i’ll cut off another girl’s head i’ll deliver it on a plate

but this time my blood will spill over the edges of the table i’ll take responsibility for this murder i’ve gotten quite unstable

so drag me to my prison cell swing me from the gallows let hoards of my victims watch as my life, my face sallows

let me say goodbye to those who knelt to crown me i won’t be here to answer your cries i fear this act may drown me.

It feels

good

to

fall

Or maybe it doesn’t I don’t know

But what I do know is It’s a relief to not be climbing To not be reaching To not be trying to prove that I deserved to be there in the first place

The verdict is in I don’t

And now I’m free To do nothing To be nothing To amount to nothing

Isn’t that something? I can finally turn off Stare at the wall and love it Because nothing is calling And it’s calling for me

I don’t know what I want right now. I don’t like that. I feel happy (mostly), But I feel aimless, Which means that the happiness won’t last, Or that it’s not good for me to have it. I talked to my therapist. She said that it’s normal. But I’m worried that with self compassion I’ll stop doing certain things entirely, Like reading. Reading. It’s not supposed to be the center of my world I like doing other things too. But reading is meaningful, And there’s so much of it to do.

I’m aimless. I need to be sad, I need to be anxious. Then I could read and be happy, But that isn’t right.

They say I’m improving, And I think I am. But how could I improve upon, Facing death?

That’s what it is isn’t it? That’s what it always is. What it always comes back to. Living with no regrets. A life with no regrets. A calculated life, Planned every step of the way.

(sorry this took so long to come out! You can find the other parts in my bookmarked section while the series is still unfinished.)

“It’s not a good idea, you know they’re a bit insane!”

“They might know something, it’s like their whole job! Also only some of them are insane.” The boy snaps back.

My eyes fly open and I see the girl and the boy. In the room. A faint waft of something being baked drifts through the room.

“You’re awake? Good!”

“We have an idea about how to get you home…”

“What is it?” I ask curiously, hopefully. Home? I need to get back to Raindrop and Mama! What if they’ve forgotten me?

Don’t think about that! You’ll be fine! The boy, (did the girl say his name was Mateo?) says, “well, we might have an idea once you’ve healed more.” He gestures to my bandaged wings.

Through my eyes blurry haze, I make out the girl furiously pacing.

“I need to go as soon as possible!” I dont say out loud how long it’ll take my wings to heal, everyone already knows it.

Weeks. Maybe even a year. Maybe never.

My eyes vision comes into focus and the girl rubs the bridge of her nose tiredly. It reminds of mama.

“We do need to get her out of here at some point… we cant just expect mom to come home to a bird person resting in our guest room.” I didn’t realize I was a burden, that’s the opposite of what I wanted to do when I learned to fly early.

I sigh, scared that they’ll leave me. “I can go if-“

Both cut me off at the same time. “No! You look like you’re 8 or something, we’re not just leaving you!” It fills me with a warm fuzzy feeling that I don’t know what to call. Belonging maybe?

“Actually I’m…” I pause. My birthday was supposed to be in a week. A few days ago. I might be 10 already! The thought fills me with dread rather than excitement.

At least mama has one less kid to worry about now. Now she’ll have more money. This was all for the best. But… i really want to go home.

Don’t I deserve to ge selfish, just a little bit? I do, I decide. I will find a way home. “What day is it?”

We probably use different calenders, but asking can’t hurt. Mateo glances at a bracelet on his wrist an then says, “July 10th.”

I assume from this that we call the months different things, but use the same days for them. This means my birthday is… shoot. My birthday is today, and if my wings will take weeks to heal then theres no way I’ll get back in time.

I stop myself from thinking of how I might never fly again. I don’t think about how I may never see mama or Rain again.

Coughing, I sputter, “I’m 10 years old.” Its no use pretending to be 13 anymore, they see past it.

“We’re still letting you stay, no matter what mom says.” The girl speaks confidently, but there’s still a thread of doubt in her voice.

I know because I’ve heard it before, when mom tried to assure us we had enough money, when I asked for an expensive birthday present and she said yes, even when a teacher pretended it was normal to not have a dad.

All that matter is me getting home as quick as possible. “Who were you talking about when I woke up?” Someone who can help me?

The girl glances at Mateo. “We have some friends, call them explorers, but we don’t know if they can help.” My face falls, I look down.

“We’ll get you home, but you just rest now.” I don’t believe her empty words. She doesn’t either.

Closing my eyes, I can’t rest, even as they leave the room. All I can picture is mom and Raindrop. All I can think of is getting home. I have to, for everyone.

The day comes and goes, I question the time difference between our continents. Are they looking for me right now? Now that I am fully conscious, I feel terrified. Shadows fall across the room, broken up by flashing lights and loud noises I don’t recognize. I feel more awake now, so I guess that the time difference is great.

A closet looms in front of me, I thought I’d gotten rid of my night terrors. Maybe at home, but not now. I pull the blankets off me and walk around the room slowly. One of my feet were injured, but it’ll be fine in a few days.

Limping to a mirror, I attempt to stretch my wings out. They don’t respond, staying limp. I can hardly feel them. I gingerly press my fingers along my left wing, but it still feels numb.

What? I should at least be feeling a bit of pain! I don’t know if this is normal, I’ve never been this hurt before. It’s not like I learned in school what to do if you tear your wings.

An elder of our village once tore his wings, but the doctors said he was too old for any repairs to be made. He spent his last few months on the ground, but once he was dead and we had burned the body, we threw the ashes over the cliff.

It’s what we always do, I know some place near the middle of the continent throw the ashes into ravines or off mountains, but this is how we honor our dead.

I wonder what humans do to their dead. I’ll have to ask Mateo tomorrow. Maybe that’s too dark of a topic though… what is normal human etiquette? It can’t be too different from us, right? I wish so had something to read.

Starting to count, I drift off.

When I ask about my wings, Mateo said he gave me medication to make it not hurt as much. I don’t know whether to be grateful or upset.

The next week feels like a year. Today is the day I finally convinced them to show me their ‘idea’. My hopes are high, though I try my best to lower them. Mateo stopped giving me the medication, so my wings have been feeling pain instead of numbness, My wings yearn to stretch out, but the pain is so great I can barely move them.

It’s morning, my mental clock has begun to adjust to this strange place, but the moving lights (which both call ‘cars’?) make it hard to sleep.

Standing up, I put on the clean clothes the girl lended to me. It’s a large dark hoodie to hopefully cover my wings, apparently humans have never heard of my kind. Strange, how would we know of them if they don’t of us?

Breakfast comes in a blur, Mateo makes me eat something though I’m in a hurry.

“Let’s go already!” I say nervously, excitedly.

The girl and Mateo tell me to sit in something called a car. Then I remember. “The moving lights in the night!”

“Yeah.” The girl says with a laugh. What’s funny about that? I wonder. Probably some human thing. “This is gonna be a long drive, probably around 8 hours.” That’s a long time, it’s not like I can complain though.

Mateo drives for a while, then switches with the girl at a gas station. She puts on this loud rock song they sing along to, it’s both similar and different to the music I have back home. The singer is saying something about love, but songs from home are not usually about those topics.

Eventually, I sing along to, since Mateo puts lyrics on a small metal box he calls a phone. Another weird human thing. I remember a song I really enjoyed, it was about catching the stars to make time slow down.

A lyric from this song is, “I’d bring all the stars to you if I could…”

Funny how similar words can mean different things.

I stare out the window at the trees, buildings, fields. It’s all so different and it switches so quickly.

“We’re here.” Mateo says, then opens the door for me and leads me to a broken down shack. It somehow falls short of my expectations. No one could really live here, right?

The girl sees the look I’m giving it and assures me, “it’s not what it looks like, I promise.” I’m still skeptical, and I don’t exactly trust her completely yet, but I try to be optimistic.

She knocks on the door and shouts, “Hello? It’s me and Mateo!” Silence. I begin to wonder if she’s insane and if maybe Mateo is too. “Venika?! I know you can hear me!” She yells again, startling me from my worries.

They resume almost immediately.

Suddenly, a muffled groaning sound comes from the other side of the door. “Will ya shut up already?!” The voice says in a strange accent, not like any accent I’ve ever heard before. Maybe from another part of the humans continent?

The door swings open and a girl stands there looking tired. She has black hair and dark brown skin. That’s what I notice at first glance.

Then I realize that this girl has wings, real wings, not some costume. Meaning…

She must be from the same place I am.

(do you guys have any suggestions on names for the girl?)

Maybe there are some things I have to accept. One place that I can’t be the best. But I try. I really try. And shouldn’t the world match my effort? The universe meet me half way? If only things worked that way. If only we could get by on effort. No. I was a talented kid, But the expectations got higher And the talent faded And my efforts were not enough. I can’t be good at the things I like. Except I am good at them… But not this. Why can’t I be good at this? Why can’t I have it all? Why can’t it be enough? I am envied. I don’t enjoy that. So why am I not content? I am excellent. In the most technical form of the word. I am just not incredible. So I’ll always be left wanting more.