Final Quick Recap: Riley/Owen/Aiden – 17 years old. Clara – 14 years old. Mike – 12 years old. Izzy – 9 years old.
If you're a visual person, I've make little character flow-charts to show who's met/related to whom. The links are on my profile, if you just scroll down and find "My Stories" and then "Incredible."
The theme song for this chapter is "Loser" by 3 Doors Down.
Disclaimer: I do not own my shameless allusion to our favorite boy wizard.
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Incredible
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Rated T for language and violence.
She could no longer hear the voices. He ceased to repeat them. Her abundant voice lost all meaning. He didn't know what to listen for anymore. She was beaten of her will, her Voice having left her for dead. His voice was lost forever to the violent wind.
But the ones who created them made a crucial mistake when taking apart their miraculous creation. Now their experiments are getting minds of their own, and they're pushing at the time-weakened, crumbling walls. How much longer will they stay standing?
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Chapter Seven: Shame
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How can six bird-kids save the world?
Tuesday, November 16th, 2010
"Hi."
Izzy looked up from her book angrily. Harry was in the middle of Potions class, and he was just about to—
"I'm Haley." A girl with short, muddy-brown hair and pale-brown eyes stuck out her hand. "You're Izzy Conroy, right? You just moved here from New York?"
"Yeah." Izzy frowned and turned back to her book, leaving Haley's hand hanging.
"What's it like there?"
The taller girl glared across her desk. "Cooler. We lived right up in the woods, where the birds stopped by all the time. It was my home."
"You like birds, too?" Haley grinned. "My older brother and sister like birds. Well, they're my foster brother and sister. Sarah wants to become a bird doctor. Aiden just likes hawks, though. He tags along with Sarah when she goes to Blackland Prairie Raptor Center on the weekends."
"There's a raptor center?" Izzy set her book down. Maybe this girl wasn't such a nuisance.
Haley nodded and opened her mouth to speak, just as Mrs. McCaffrey walked in, strategically piling all of her dark-brown hair into a loose bun atop her head, and said, "All right, class, take your seats."
The teacher set her purse down at her desk and smiled at the kids as they scrambled to their desks. "I hear we have a new student. Isadora, would you like to tell us a little bit about yourself?"
Izzy nearly laughed aloud at the question. There was so much she could tell them. So much she wouldn't tell them. As she stood, a flare of pain flashed through her back. I'll have to get my medicine from the nurse soon, she noted. But even so, walked up confidently to the front of the class, head held high. She wasn't afraid of a bunch of fourth-graders.
"My name is Isadora Conroy. But I respond to Izzy better. I have an older brother named Mike. He's in sixth grade. We moved here from Russell, New York. If I could have any superpower, I would want to fly, or be able to read minds. Or both. I like books, and stuffed animals. And I want a Scottie dog, but Mom is allergic." As she spoke, the tall girl took in her classroom, cataloging faces, and also, in the back of her mind, emergency exits—windows, doors, vents. Those kids sitting there in their desks didn't know what to make of her. She could tell they were confused. "That's it." Izzy nodded and went back to her seat at the rear of the classroom.
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"Izzy, can I talk to you?"
As the rest of the class funneled out for recess, the blonde girl hung back, walking up to her teacher's desk. "Yes?"
"Your mother informed me of your… condition."
Izzy's face fell, and she drew her long arms around her in a tight hug. "So you know about the shrink."
Her teacher nodded gently, her sky-blue eyes concerned. "And the myositis. You know, it's nothing to be ashamed of."
"Ashamed?" Izzy looked up, a fury in her eyes and in her words. "I am not ashamed. Why would I be ashamed that I've lived half of my life in the hospital? Why should I be ashamed of the two ugly scars on my back?" Even as her eyes filled with tears, she only became angrier. "Why should I be ashamed that I have to see a psychiatrist? Why should I be ashamed that I am so hyped up on pills I barely know who I am anymore? Why should I be ashamed of any of it?" She was nearly yelling now, her jaw clenched as tight as her fists. She bit back the tears in her eyes. Don't cry. She wouldn't cry, so you shouldn't either.
Mrs. McCaffrey met her student's eyes. The corner of her lips turned up in a knowing smile. "You know, you remind me a lot of my sister. She would say something just like that. There is no reason for you to be ashamed, Izzy. I'm sorry if you took my words the wrong way."
"Never mind." Izzy shook her head, refusing to meet her teacher's eyes. "It's nothing. Mike has it, too. And we're all so used to the doctors it's sad. But I still can't stand it there."
The teacher's smile widened. "Riley is the exact same way."
"Riley?" Izzy frowned, her hands unclenching.
"My sister. She's a senior this year. But you remind me so much of her. Don't tell me now, but do you like birds?"
Izzy nodded, slowly, as her teacher let out a light laugh. "How funny! You'd think you two knew each other!" She beamed. "Go on outside, Izzy."
The girl nodded, confused, and ran out of the classroom, her curls flailing out behind her. So, then, why did she have an excited thrill in the bottom of her stomach?
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Mike sat at the edge of the playground, fumbling with his pencil. He was still working on the schematics from Russell, even though they had moved three days ago. Tuesday seemed to stretch into oblivion. God, I just want to get home, away from all of these people, he thought bitterly. He sighed, thinking of his new bed and that awesome tire swing in the backyard.
"You're Mike Conroy, right? Wow, that's really cool!"
Mike jumped a foot in the air, spinning to glower at a smiling kid from his new class. What was his name again?
"I'm Dave, by the way," the stockier boy supplied. "That's really cool," he repeated, gesturing to the blueprints. "Is it like a firework or something? My foster brother makes fireworks, too. They actually work, and it's so cool because Aiden is blind."
"Really?" Could he get a partner in crime? I've always wanted one of those. Mike winced internally, thinking back to before Russell once again, to that time when things went so horribly wrong. If he'd had someone to help him make that bomb, that wouldn't have happened.
"Mike!"
Izzy ran up to her brother, taking his arm and interrupting his thoughts. "What'cha doing?" She looked down at the paper and let out a low, horrified moan. "You said you'd stop, Mike!" she hissed, flicking a quick glance at the sixth grader standing a little ways away. "You heard Mom. We can't afford to move again!"
Mike shook off his sister's hand. "It's none of your business, Isadora," he said angrily.
And she retorted with as much venom, "Yes, it is, Michael."
The siblings only ever used their full names when they were too furious at each other to find the right words. The moment had suddenly become ten times more serious than either would admit.
"Michael, I was there," Izzy admitted, her voice steadily rising in volume. "I saw what happened! What you did! Don't say it's none of your business, because if we have to move one more time, I will never, ever speak to you again!" Izzy was screaming now. She let out a furious shriek and stalked away, wiping at her eyes as angry tears sprang up.
Mike was dumbstruck. Oh, my God. His sister had seen the one thing that haunted his dreams, the one thing he most despised himself for. She had been there. Oh, my freaking God.
Suddenly, a bitter run of anger shot through him. She thinks she knows everything! Did she know the reason for all the schematics and explosives? Did she realize it was just so he could prove that he was actually good for something? Did she know it was all because of her? Because she was so fragile and broken and scary that her mother had no time for her only son?
"Mike, are you okay?" Dave asked suddenly, fidgeting nervously at the side. "You're crying."
The taller boy brought a hand up to his cheeks, where, indeed, tears were falling. "I'm fine," he muttered, before racing off to the monkey bars. He climbed deftly to the top even as his back ached in protest, hoisting his body onto the metal and swinging his legs over the side. At least I'm a little farther off the ground, now. Mike angrily swiped away his tears as a chorus of giggles burst from the right. The swings. When the boy looked up, he spotted a group of little girls—the cause of the giggles. A little farther down, however, was his sister, furiously pumping back and forth. Higher and higher, closer and closer to the sky.
As the sun lit up her golden hair from behind, Mike froze in his spot, his churning thoughts grinding to a halt.
For one moment, he could picture his sister with huge, pearly-white wings, soaring through the air and looking truly happy. And suddenly, he was nothing but revolted at himself for ever thinking one mean, nasty, jealous thought of his innocent, messed-up little sister.
Because, in that one moment, she looked just like… an angel.
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A/N: Now, I've gone through and beefed up the Mike part a bit. If anyone remembers the old chapter, do you think I did a better job characterizing him here? Or, do you, my new readers, think I did a good job? Do you feel like you know Mike better now? It's for reasons like this that I go through and edit. To fix up my mistakes and make them better. :)
I think I did a better job with this, and I do like this chapter better now. Previously, I hadn't. But it's a nice segway into the next chapter (I remember what that is, heehee), and we connect a few dots here. I'm rather proud of it, really.
Hey, did anyone notice anything familiar about Angel's teacher? (You only just learned about her…)
Questions? Comments? A random fact/story? Tell it to me in a review and you will be eternally regarded as awesome. And I'll give you a cookie. ;) (Sorry, not towards the contest. A cookie just 'cause you're awesome.)
Your faithful author,
Lea
