"This time I want someone younger than me. If that would be possible."
"Sure. Tell you what—you can pick which one we get."
"Really? ...I want the hypersonic one."
"Thy will be done."
Opal—
I closed my eyes—still sitting on my bed in the lotus position—and thought, flight.
Light flashed through my closed eyelids. I felt the sparks fly and brush over the pink bedsheets as my own human body disappeared. From the outside I guess it looked like I disappeared into a halo of light. To me…it's pretty hard to explain. It's like my body dissolved, and my substance-less being swirl down into a smaller form. I felt my consciousness fill out into my new body—first the tiny chest, through the sleek head and little pointed beak, then through to my new tail feathers and into my wings. I opened my weak sparrow eyes, and saw my bedroom from a whole different perspective.
Then the sparrow's instincts kicked in. When you have an animal's body with an animal's brain and an oblivious human's consciousness sharing the same body, you get both human and animal influence over the little creature. And man, I was feeling it. The sparrow's brain was panicking. No sky! No freedom! Room constricting me! Fly!
Before the sparrow's wings could open and start to flutter and thrash, I took back over. No matter how many times I practiced, I'd never get used to it. (Not that I practiced a lot.) I drew my wings back to my sides and tried to reassess using my sparrow senses.
I spotted my backpack on the floor by my bed. That was relatively easy—black against light grey carpeting. My wooden desk in the corner, with last night's homework on it. Chest of drawers on the wall to the left, one door ajar, mirror reflecting the lamp's light. I awkwardly spread my newfound sparrow wings—thinking easy does it—used my tail feathers to keep me balanced on stick legs, and took off. Once I was in the air everything was cool. Breezy.
I spun lazy loops around, trying to keep steady no matter how close I got to objects. I saw the sky through the window, and knew that was what I wanted. It was so pretty and free. If I could only swirl the cool, crisp morning air with my humbled little wings and taste freedom for a minute…
Light! Noise! Predator! Intruder!
In a moment of panic I went into a spiral dive, keeping the bedroom floor in my sight and hoping that whoever-it-was didn't see me.
"OPAL! The house mom said no powers!" my little brother cried. Too late to hide.
"Aww, c'mon Sean! You gotta let this one go!" I whined, my human voice pouring out of the sparrow's little beak. I tried to alight as gently as possible on the floor in front of him but still managed to fall over. (Not impressive, I know, but it was only my second time as a sparrow.)
"No! Mom said! You're gonna get in so much trouble…" Sean, that little red-haired imp cried, before turning on his heels.
"I'll be a kitty cat and let you pick me up around the middle!" I shouted. He turned right back around, and by the evil little smile on his evil little face, I knew that I was going to regret not holding my tongue. Picking up small, defenseless animals was his hobby.
"After school."
I didn't hear him—I was turning back to my human form. Once I had filled back into my semi-normal preteen body, and confirmed that I indeed was on the floor, then I actually cared.
"What about school?" I asked, getting up.
"Mommy said that the school bus cames in a few minutes."
"'Comes', Sean. 'The school bus comes in a few minutes'."
I heard something like an elephant trumpet outside the house. That would be the school bus that was supposed to cames in a few minutes.
In a flurry of motion I grabbed my homework off my desk, my shoes from the corner, my backpack, and ushered Sean out the door. My heart was thudding like a drum, and the only thoughts I had time to fret over were We're gonna be late, we're gonna be late, we're gonna be SO late…
It was MY responsibility to get Sean to the bus on time, now that we'd been put in a group home—so I dragged him all the way to where the bus was stopped, shoes in my other hand. Sean complained the whole way.
We just barely made it, as Mr. Weatherly was closing the doors. He gave me a funny look when he spotted the faded red high-tops in my hand. I breathed a quick thanks, and started walking to the back of the bus. Sean got over his annoyance when he sat down with his friends and started talking. I just tried to ignore all the stares (and the stitch in my side) while I made my way to my seat.
Lo and behold, there was someone already sitting there. This would happen today. She didn't look familiar, and I'd have remembered her if I'd seen her before—Asian, with long black hair in pigtails, a studded jacket over a longsleeve forest-green shirt. Cargo pants and a 'don't talk to me' expression completed the look. And her backpack (also green) was plopped in my seat. The bus started moving with a squeal of ancient brakes.
"Uh, that's my seat." I said, hopefully loud enough to break whatever stupor she was in. She turned around and realized I was standing there, staring.
"Oh. Help yourself." She said, and hauled her backpack into her lap. I caught an annoyed glance from Mr. Weatherly, took the initiative, and sat down.
"My name's Ivy." She said after a short while. I saw her sleeves had holes she'd hooked her thumbs through when she offered her hand to me. Very punk, very fashion. I shook her hand and said,
"Mine's Opal. Are you new here?"
"Yeah. Just moved in a week ago. My neighborhood's a bit away from yours. How's the school here?"
I asked her if she was going to the same school I was, as the middle and elementary schoolers ride this bus. Turned out she was. In my grade too. Admittedly, I'd been to a bunch of schools, and this one was neither here nor there, so I just offered, "It's okay. The food's edible at least." with a faint smile on the corner of my lips. Ivy smiled back at me and my confidence went up a notch.
Then the bus driver pulled over. He did that every couple of minutes, when the sixth graders were being too noisy, and I was about to voice my complaint to Ivy before he stood up and gave us the silence sign. Those sixth graders didn't listen until he yelled at them—and he was scary serious. I'd never seen that expression on his face. Something must have been wrong.
Mr. Weatherly listened for something…and everyone held their breath. Ivy and I stood up, scared to break the silence spell.
I could barely hear it. Coming from somewhere under the bus.
Tick, tick, tick…
"Oh my God…" Mr. Weatherly breathed.
"What's happening?!" an eighth grader shrieked.
Then the bus exploded.
Through the fear and bewilderment, and through all the screams and the noise, I could barely make out what was happening. Glass shattered over me and Ivy as we started to fall out of our seat. The bus came crashing to earth, upside down. Something very hard and metal rushed up to hit me—first my head, then my shoulders, and my back. That took all the air out of my lungs but the world wasn't done with me just yet. I looked around—the top of the bus, which used to be the floor, was filling up with smoke. Something—or several somethings—crashed through the busted windows. My vision was hazy, and they looked like thick ropes…
Opened my eyes. On the asphalt, surrounded by glass and smoke. Someone here. A shadow passed over the sun, kept it out of my eyes. Colors and shadows warped.
"This one. The sister." The shadow that blacked out the sun said, pointing down at me. It left and started barking orders at others.
"…Sean…" I muttered, trying to get out a whole sentence. Get Sean first. I hoped the paramedics understood that…
Then I sank into peaceful, blissful blackness.