As much as I would like to be James Patterson, I'm not.
So I don't own these characters.
Numb.
That's how I felt.
How I feel.
Don't ask me why. I have no idea.
It could be for a lot of reasons-like the fact that I am fifteen years old with no home and no real family. Throw in the wings, part avian DNA, and an attitude, and you have society's vision of a teenager.
Yes, my flock is like a family to me. However, key in on the word, "like". I want a real family. A place where I can come home to everyday and see people that love me because I am their flesh and bone.
You have no idea what that's like. Not having a home. Not having a real family. Believe me when I say that I would cut my wings off if it meant having those things.
Now, don't go thinking that I am going to go slit my wrists and jump off a cliff. No. I'm stronger than that.
But the thought never strays my mind.
I could leave it all.
Just one quick slice and I wouldn't have to care about anything in the world.
No more School. No more Flyboys. No more running or hiding for our lives.
No more flock.
That's the only reason I stay here. I know that I need to stay with them, stay alive for them.
Because without me, they're nothing.
Now, don't go thinking I'm cocky. Because I'm not. What I say is the truth. Fang demonstrated his leadership abilities with Gazzy and Iggy while the rest of us were in Europe. He didn't need to say anything for me to know that he wasn't cut out for being leader. He makes a good right hand man though.
The rest of them aren't cut out for being the leader. The reasons are obvious to me. No need to waste your time by listing them here.
We had decided to camp out in the woods for a few nights. There was an abundance of trees, so hiding wasn't a problem. Neither was shelter. The only thing we needed to worry about was food, but there were a lot of rabbits and wildlife around.
I was feeling really distant from the flock. It's like I took all the pressure that was pushing down on me and told it to take a hike.
I didn't feel anything.
No joy when Total found our dinner.
No anger when Iggy beat me at mancala.
No rush of emotions about anything.
Let me tell you, it sucks.
Everything that happened made me want to cry. I could never let my flock see how weak I was. Crying over something so little, like Gazzy building a fire? Or Angel getting a scrape?
No.
I muttered that I was going to take a walk, and disappeared before anyone could prevent me from going.
Once I was far away from camp, I just let it all out. I fell to my knees, put my hands over my eyes, and just bawled.
It was so much to handle. I didn't know how to deal with not feeling anything.
I forced myself to stop crying. I was being ridiculous. I could handle this. My life wasn't any different than it had been a week ago. Why was I flaking out now?
I stood shakily up and saw that a stick had cut my knee when I fell.
I felt the pain.
The sting.
It felt good to know I wasn't numb to physical pain.
Now, I said before I wasn't going to go suicidal. I planned to keep that promise.
I wasn't going to commit suicide though.
I found another stick. A larger one, not as sharp as the one that jabbed me.
I held out my arm and started beating it.
I closed my eyes and slammed the stick down. Again and again it hit my flesh.
I felt every blow.
I switched arms and attacked it until I could see the swelling, the redness, the pain.
Feeling a sense of accomplishment, I let the stick drop to the forest floor. I pulled my sleeves down to hide the forming bruises and headed back to camp.
A few hours passed. I was taking the first watch of the night. I couldn't sleep anyway.
Being like any other curious human being, I wanted to see the damage I had caused.
I carefully rolled up my sleeves, wincing slightly at the dull ache.
There they were.
Glorious marks of pain.
Big and purple, splotched with an assortment of other colors, all up and down my arms.
I smiled, proud of myself.
"Where did you get those?"
I jumped, and saw Fang staring at me from his sleeping spot on the ground.
"Our last ambush by the Flyboys," I replied quickly.
Too quickly.
"Really?" Fang asked, getting up to sit next to me, "they look pretty bad."
"Yeah.." I said, and smiled.
Oops.
Fang looked at me for a second.
"I think both of us know that's a load of B.S. Max."
"What?"
"Why would you do that to yourself?"
"I didn't-"
He cut me off.
"Yes you did. I'm not an idiot, Max. You go away for a few hours, then come back and have these massive bruises."
"Fang, I didn't do anything."
"Stop lying to me!" He practically shouted. He stood up, towering over me, "You don't need to hurt yourself. Not like this…" he trailed off.
I sighed, "…Okay. I'm sorry."
And for the first time in days, I truly felt it.
Yeah, I was feeling emo and decided to write Max being all depressed and stuff xD I know it kinda died at the end. I was done feeling depressed though xDDD
Hope you enjoyed it