FLIGHT

I wasn't really from this world. A few years ago I climbed out of a well and decided to stay. My friend had discovered Earth a few days before and had left our land. But she never came back. I decided I should go after her, but no matter how hard I'd searched, I never found her. I tried to go back, but everything in the new world seemed more clean; more free. Back in my world we all had to stay underground. We weren't aloud on the surface. And even if we were, we weren't able to survive more than a few hours.

Our air had become poisoned after years of neglect, so we had to move underground and count on air purifiers to keep us safe. A lot of kids would venture to the surface, either to rebel or out of pure curiosity. Many of them hadn't known a life aboveground like the adults. They never got to experience nature, flight, freedom. So when my friend told me she'd found a magical well, we immediately went to investigate.

She said she'd go first and check things out. If things were okay she'd come back for me. I remember waiting for hours before having to go back underground. The next day, after she didn't return, I decided to go ahead an jump into the well.

I looked for days but had no luck. My friend had disappeared. I returned to my world only to give my goodbyes. I had fallen in love with Earth. I asked a few of my close friends to follow, but they all refused. I tried to explain how we could live above ground with nature, flight, freedom. They shook their heads, claiming that they'd be killed. The creatures would probably see them as freaks and end up shooting them down. I guess I sort of understood. But to me, anything was better than living underground for the rest of my life.

Three years later I still hadn't found my friend. The well was destroyed to make room for construction, so I couldn't ever return to my world even if I wanted to. I found a job as a painter. I loved to sketch pictures of the ocean, forests, flowers, and skies. I had trouble selling them though, for I could not speak English. In fact, there was barely any English I could understand very well. Usually I just smiled, nodded, and took what money a person gave me for my work. I was fully aware that I may have been cheated, but I really didn't care. I didn't really eat much, and the owner of my apartment building was letting me stay for free. I figured he knew I wasn't from his world. After all, I certainly didn't look human.

That was the reason why I rarely left my small apartment during the day. People would probably try to lock me up and inspect me. They'd think I was some sort of animal or something. And when I'd wave my arms and try my best to communicate, they'd think I was attacking them and kill me. It was better to hide. It was better to keep to myself. It was better to show myself to as little people as possible. It was safer that way.

Every night before I'd go out on my usual flight, I'd take a good look at myself in the mirror. I had been so normal in my old world. Now I was different; I was the odd one out. My fingers curled into furry claws. It was a wonder that I could hold a paintbrush. Small horns protruded from my knuckles, elbows, shoulders, and behind my pointed ears. My eyes narrowed like a bird's, and a small, furry tail poked out from behind me. And on my back was a pair of white wings.

I'd open my window and sit with my legs dangling high above the sidewalk below. I'd look in the window of an apartment building across from mine. There were two young boys who sat at a small table and played cards. Every night they sat there, smiling at each other warmly. Watching them had eventually become a part of my nightly routine, and I had grown somewhat attached to them. Even though they didn't know me, I felt a sort of connection. There were a few times when I'd wanted to fly to their window and join their game, but I was always afraid they'd fear me. I only watched from afar, letting their friendship warm me.

After a few minutes I would leap out the window and float gracefully into the air. Up, up, up I would fly, until the city was only a few tiny lights. Once alone and free from people's eyes I would soar back and forth, performing summersaults through the air. I loved flying more than anything!

I remembered when I had first tried to fly. It was just a few weeks before I went to Earth. I wanted to feel what it was like to actually use my wings instead of letting them hang uselessly. I was so afraid that if I didn't use them a little they'd eventually grow so weak and small that they'd just break when I spread them. I remember, I was able to stay in the air a few minutes before crashing to the ground. I realized that mixed with the terrible air and lack of wind, flying was a lost art in my world. That was the main reason I had wanted to stay on Earth. I was finally able to experience nature, flight, freedom.

So every night for the few years I'd been in the new world, I'd gone out flying. It was what kept me happy and content with life. It made me forget about how I'd left my family behind. How I gave up on finding my friend. How I'd moved to a world that would eventually become similar to mine. As long as I was still able to soar through the air everything was wonderful. I didn't have to worry about humans seeing me. If one of their planes was near, I'd just fly out of the way.

When the sun just began to shine in the east, I would begin my descend back to my apartment. I'd land on my windowsill and then simply hop down onto my floor. After that I'd either paint or take a nap. That was my routine. For a while, at least.

One morning on my way back home, I heard screams coming a few blocks from my apartment. I immediately changed directions and followed the voices. I soon found myself hovering over an alley. Cornered by a group of humans wearing strange masks were the two boys who I would watch play cards. One was curled in a ball, holding his small hands over his heart. The other boy was standing in front, his arms spread wide as he tried to protect his friend. What were they doing out so early? They should have known better than to take a walk alone in that area. No matter how free it may feel.

I noticed that each of the masked men carried a knife. One of them already had blood dripping onto the concrete. No! I turned my attention back to the boy curled up. Had they hurt him? Why? What did he do? He was just an innocent boy!

Just as the unharmed boy was about to lunge at the monsters who had stabbed his friend, I dove downwards. I sped towards the group, yelling to distract them. They all looked up, including the two boys. The wounded one smiled briefly before closing his eyes. I rammed the masked group to the ground with my wings. I tried my best to keep them on their knees by repeatedly swinging my wings at them. I motioned for the unhurt boy to grab his friend and run. It was only then that I noticed the boy curled in the corner had turned pale.

His friend fell next to him and cried. I felt tears come to my eyes as well, but knew that we were still in danger. I yelled again and motioned for the boy to take his friend and leave. He nodded, wiping his face with his sleeve. He picked up his dead friend and stumbled out of the alley. After I felt he was far enough away, I stopped beating my wings and lunged for one of the attacker's weapon. All I got was a thump on the head before everything went black.

When I woke up the sun was already low in the west. At first I had forgotten why I was lying in an alley, but then I remembered the two boys and the masked gang. I began to cry. They had killed that poor boy! They had ended another's life!

Then I began to wonder. Why hadn't they killed me? I stood, dizzy. Immediately I felt a terrible pain on my back. I reached back and realized, horrified, what had happened.

They had cut off my wings.

I fell to my knees, stunned. As I looked around I noticed feathers and bone scattered everywhere.

I eventually wandered up to my apartment where I rinsed off, cleaning the gaping wound on my back. There were only a few tiny pieces of bone and feathers left. My beautiful wings were gone. They would never grow back.

I stumbled to a corner in the room and cried.

When the sun was completely gone I wandered to my window. It was still open and I could feel the night breeze flowing around me, as if asking me to dance. I knelt down and leaned out the window. I folded my arms under my chin and rested, peering sadly into the sky. After a moment my gaze wandered to the building across from mine. I looked into the window where the two little boys would sit and play.

One boy sat there and peered out the window with a lonely expression on his face.