Synopsis: Olivia was always a unique child, but everyone, even her parents, disapproved of it. Especially her idea that she believed she had wings. She didn't have wings, neither did kids around her, as she was told as she grew older. Her parents institutionalized her as a response once she did not stop believing in the idea that she had wings when she was around her late teenage years. Years of treatment and isolation in the institution past. Olivia watched her life go by in a blink, losing hope every year that her life would never change. That changes very quickly once she meets the man who made things around him cold.

Chapter 1

Strange Things did Happen Here

Remember when you think something is perfectly sane as a child like swallowing an apple seed will make a tree grow inside you, or that kissing someone meant you were married, then you become older and realize how borderline insane those thoughts were? When I told kids throughout grade school I had wings, they believed me. But once I hit the age of ten, they stopped believing me. I insisted it was true, thinking all kids had white wings that were tinted with a shade of light blue or had some other colour of their wings, but they insisted by denying it and calling me 'a freak, that needs to grow up'. I remember asking my parents if the kids were right. That I was a freak of nature and the conversation went like this as I recall.

Me: Mama, Papa, am I a freak?

They have a look of surprise

Mom: Of course not. Why do you ask?

Me: The kids call me a freak when I tell them about my wings.

They don't reply for awhile.

Mom: They are only jealous you have those wings and they don't.

I believed them. For so many years

I had an acquaintance, I wouldn't consider them a friend since I didn't know what a friend was at that time, who gained my trust by not calling me a freak more than others did.

"Laura? You can see my wings?" I asked with a tone of joy in my voice, making my small wings quiver in suspense as well.

Laura shook her head, "No, I can't. But I would love to see them!"

My eyes lightened in joy. Was this it? The day I would feel like I belonged?

I closed my eyes and imaged my fledgling-like wings. Soft and small like a bunny. I thought, I want to show Laura them.

I need something.

Anything.

Suddenly, I felt wind beginning to form and pick up rapidly. I opened my eyes and looked at Laura. She seemed rather confused either because of the weather change or that I was closing my eyes and lifting my hands up as if I was a messiah.

Lightning flashed, yet I wasn't scared for some reason like most kids my age at that time. Very unlike Laura, who was screaming bloody murder. I didn't understand why. I couldn't see what she was screaming at, though I thought, Could she finally see them? Someone can see them? My wings.

In reality, their silhouette, not true form, showed from the lightning that flashed.

"Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak!" she screamed over and over again as she sprinted away from me.

I reached out to try and conjure her back, but my throat went dry. What was I supposed to say? "See Laura? I was right!" I never spoke to Laura ever again after that incident.

Of course, Laura told her parents, who notified my parents saying, "She scared our daughter! Tried to harm her! Move that...that thing! Out of this place!" They did what Laura's parents had expected. Moved me to another school.

The trouble didn't leave.

It seemed to leave, go on hiatus, then spring out suddenly. Over and over again.

An endless roller coaster that didn't allow me any control. To alter its direction or to get off fully was only in my dreams.

I leaned against an oak tree, its rough bark digging into the back of my skin because I was pressed into it, as if I were asking it to take me; make me apart of it. Take me away from this bin that was in the middle of nowhere, miles from the normal civilization.

I looked up at the sky, trying to find patterns. Ones that were obvious, unlike my wings, in my sight. A rabbit. A flower. So many normal patterns, yet they made me feel so much better. They made me feel sane.

The doctors diagnosed me with schizophrenia and mild psychosis. They didn't tell me, but I knew. I heard them talking about me, diagnosing me so monotonously. It angered me for it made me think they were doing this for the funds, not truly caring for the well being of someone. I usually retaliated at them in anger, shattering a test tube or making them accidentally fall down some stairs.

I was checked into the institution around my late teen years. Before I finished high school, they transferred me out, fearing that I was a danger to society and that I wouldn't be able to live a stable life with my constant belief that I had wings. I lost track of the the years, so I have long forgotten my age, but doctors say I am in my late or mid twenties, can't remember specifically.

So many patterns. Such a variety. I looked back at the institution, my escort watching me in the distance like a hawk watching its prey so I don't try and escape. I had a time limit when going out in the open air. I knew my time was close to being up and I dreaded the thought of going back into that institution.

Being surrounded by people.

Sometimes we did support groups in the institution. They were not pleasant. Insane killers claimed they were innocent, saying that they were possessed or bribed.

People who forgot what they were saying mid-sentence, then never spoke again.

Paranoids who described their idea that they were being followed by someone non existent. Maybe they were, but we couldn't see the entity following them.

I stood up, getting ready to go back to my assistant before they would nag at me til I went back inside the institution, back into my room. As I stood up, I sensed someone was watching me. I looked around questioningly.

That was the first time I saw him.

Blonde hair.

Blue eyes.

Tall.

Three pairs of wings unlike my single pair of wings. They were so beautiful. They were so broken: missing feathers, cut, yet they were still...amazing.

He was only a few metres from the hanging tree, the place I stood at. A breeze formed suddenly, making my short hair move around lightly like freshly cut grass. My clothing clung to me due to the wind as well. The stranger and I locked eyes in silence as the breeze past by.

I felt goosebumps form along my entire body as I looked at the stranger longer. The breeze was not cold and I always naturally had a lot of heat so this was very unusual.

I looked over at my assistant. Did they notice this stranger? She didn't seem to. I looked back at the stranger, only to see he wasn't there. No trace of him.

Except that cold feeling that had formed when I first looked at the stranger was still there.

Is he really gone?