Minimum Ride

A Maximum Ride fan fiction

A/N: Hey guys. I am well aware it's been too long since I published a chapter, and you guys have probably given up on me by now, but here's one anyway. I tried to make this one longer than the others, but that might diminish the whole 'two chapters at a time' thing. Sorry. Anyway, enjoy.

Chapter 14

I'm reasonably sure that when someone had told me they had paperwork to do before, they had left me in a spacious, if not poorly decorated, room with my mom. Well, it seems as though I'm not in Kansas anymore. This time, my 'keeper' had left me in a cage among the 'most viable experiments' in this hell hol- I mean "lab". Emphasis on the sarcastic quotation marks around 'lab'.

So, here I was, so better get down to business. Plan... plan... I need a plan, my mind suggested. Okay, then... let's go with first instinct here; a plan. After mentally reviewing possibilities, I realized something: I have a very, very active imagination. Probably best to go with the most practical and basic plan that came to mind... which proved to be make some allies and break the heck outta here. That sounded pretty solid, so I went with it. Turning to the cage next to me, I observed its occupant. It was a skinny, fair-skinned girl with red-auburn hair. She had her back to me, which was discouraging, but I'm not one to easily give up. I swiveled in my cage to face her.

"Hi." I said loud enough for her to hear, but still not to attract the attention of the other 'experiments'. She looked over her shoulder at me and her eyes sparked for just a second, then went flat. She was pretty, with forest green eyes that looked through thick-ish eyelashes at me. She also had pink lips like anyone else, like that matters in this society, right? Anyway...

"Hey," she said, startling me out of my thoughts. She turned a bit so that her body faced the front of her cage and her head still turned toward me. "You're.. uh, zoned out."

"Oh.. sorry." I said, looking down at my hands before returning my gaze to her. I noticed this time what she was wearing: a light blue hoodie with the name of a popular clothing store displayed across the front was zipped up over a grey tank top. She was also wearing some loose-fitting jeans that looked like they had not been washed in... a while. Her grey and white sneakers were in relatively good shape, considering her conditions.

"You're doing it again.." she said questionably. She eyed me like the Pameister had done with a look that matched her tone.

"I never knew I did that so much.. weird." I said half to myself. She smiled a bit, then went back to a flat line of a mouth, which I guess was her normal. "So, what's your name?" I said, poking her through the cage a bit.

"Ivy's the name for me." she said with a grin. "And yourself?" she asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Kate." I said simply, not looking at her. My mind was other places. Actually, it was just my eyes that were other places.. My eye had actually been caught by another 'experiment' across the aisle. I was interested because he looked familiar. Like I'd known him before. I squinted a bit to get a better look through the cage bars. Definitely a guy, with fair skin and reddish-brown - a bit auburn - hair. He had forest green eyes, and - Hey, wait a minute! I did know this guy. He was, like, the guy version of the girl sitting next to me. A reproduction of her with only one change. He was a guy.

It was at this exact moment that my extreme stupidity caught up with me. Hel-lo, maybe they're twins! Hmm, an interesting theory. Thanks, small smart part of my brain! I'm sure the obliviousness was a side-effect of my new bird DNA. Or something. It just made me feel better to claim that it wasn't just me being an idiot. Nope. The proud part of me would never admit to it.

"Kate! Hellooo, Kate? Earth to Kate!" is what the conscience part of my mind had been hearing for the past five minutes without even knowing it. Ivy.

"Yeah, yeah, Houston, calm down." I said, still looking at the boy. "Who's that?" I said, pointing across the aisle.

"Uh... some guy who looks like me. They brought him in here a couple weeks ago. Hasn't said a word to anybody." she explained. A couple of weeks ago. That part of her sentence stuck, repeating over and over in my mind. She's been here a while. Just then, the boy looked up and caught my eye, as if hearing himself being talked about. I eyed him curiously, if not a bit fiercely, and his eyes flitted away. I pulled my legs up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them before turning my attention back to Ivy.

"How long have you been here?" I ask curiously. Her eyes harden for a moment, then she blinks a few moments to clear them. She shakes her head softly.

"I.. uh. I've been here all my life. All I've ever known is here." she says quietly, and the pity hits me like a bullet in my chest. Stupid, oblivious me, thinking everyone had been captured and held for a while. That they would find a way out, somehow, someway. I swallow and steel myself, regaining my bravado. I can't cry here, no. Not when I plan on starting some sort of rebellion.

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't know." I say quickly. She looks over at me, her expression calm, not angry or upset like I'd imagined.

"No. It's okay. I don't care anymore." she says, leaning against the back of her cage. I'm about to say something, offer some consolation, when I hear the walk-through door I walked through swinging open. I freeze, but Ivy leans back her head, lips forming words I can't hear. I try leaning to the side of my cage to see who it is, but a glimpse of grey slacks and a questionably shiny pair of shoes makes me sit back in my cage, too, glaring at the linoleum in front of my cage where I know he will stop. Batchelder.

"Yes, she took out two Erasers. Very fast, faster than my eyes could track." I hear him brag on me to someone else, and resist an urge to groan aloud. Two 'scientists'? One I can handle, but two? They're really working my nerves here.

"Good, very good. The Director will be very proud." I hear the crisp voice of Pamela Yenesen, and this time I just close my eyes and count to ten to keep from screaming. My emotions are seeming to swing to extremes since I woke up on that table. Sadness for Ivy, anger at Jeb. Other little emotions in between. Pity, both for others and myself. The footsteps continue until they stop right in front of me, and I open my eyes as I hear the door to my cage being opened. I see Jeb concentrating on the latch, then jumping back as I burst from my cage. I break out in a sprint down the hall, but when two Erasers emerge from the swinging door, armed with a dart gun, I slow down and eventually stop in front of them. I could easily knock them down and continue, but I remind myself that I must cooperate if I don't want to end up passed out on a metal table again. Funny how quick they are to knock a person out around here. I turn around to see Pamela and Jeb speed-walking toward me, so I decide I must concoct some reason for running, as not to raise suspicion, which I have no doubt already have. Still, as I call toward them, I feign innocence.

"Hurry up, you guys! We're going back to the fight yard, right?" I yell, trying to inject my voice with a tone of excitement. I mix in an enthusiastic smile for good measure. Jeb makes an attempt to smile back, but Pamela looks genuinely annoyed. The fact only makes me beam more.

"Actually," explains Jeb as they catch up and lead me down the hall, "We're having a little chat over breakfast." I look over at the Pamiester, and she has taken on that business look again as we stride through the door and round a corner, the opposite way I came in.

"We need to get some basic information from you." she says, and I can almost hear the continuation of her statement: And what better motivation than food? They know me too well. Food is my main weakness, aside from soda and coffee, which I guess still qualifies as food. The thing I'm after in the drinks is the caffeine. I try to fly everyday, and it really burns energy. Jeb steps in front of me, and I stop abruptly when I see we're in front of a door. Pamela stands beside and slightly behind me while Jeb unlocks the door with a set of keys on his belt. He opens the door and steps aside, waiting for me to walk through. I see another one of those rectangle fake wood folding tables, surrounded by four metal folding chairs. As I walk through the door, I see this another one of those white-walled rooms, except with a kitchenette and the table. On the far side, next to the fridge, is another door. Jeb and Pamela walk in behind me, and Pamela gestures for me to take a seat, and I take the one that faces away from the door. There are no windows, and only the one door, so the only way of light in here is through the fluorescents. Jeb takes the seat across from me, Pamela to my right. Pamela gets right down to business, whereas Jeb keeps things light and chatty.

"When was the first time-" Pamela starts, but Jeb cuts her off.

"What do you like for breakfast, Kate?" he asks. I temporarily decide that between the two, Jeb is my favorite. Not that I like him or anything, but he's slightly more tolerable than the Pamiester. What do I like for breakfast? What ever there is. I think about saying, but if I'm calling the shots, it's gonna be something good.

"Everything. Pancakes, waffles, omelets, bacon, sausage, ham, poptarts, toast, fruit, yogurt, muffins, danishes, biscuits, cinnamon rolls..." I name off, trying to think of more. "I eat it all."

Neither of them seem startled, or surprised, instead, Jeb asks, "And to drink?"

"Um... coffee, juice, chocolate milk... the works." I say. Jeb motions to something behind me, and I hear the door open. I turn to see several Erasers in their male model forms coming through the door, armed with all the food I listed and more. Another comes through with mugs of black coffee and cups of juice in different colors. That Eraser looks half-morphed, and when he sets down the drinks, he joins us at the table. Plates are passed out and food set out. Me and the Eraser start grabbing food immediately, we seem to both have an appetite. Right off the bat, I grab three pancakes and two waffles, drenching the whole plate in maple syrup. I add bacon, sausage, and ham on the side, and they soak in the syrup. I grab my fork and set to work, downing the pancakes before I even have time to think about the coffee sitting in front of me. I frown at the black color, and request some cream. Pamela passes a bowl of little cream filled cups to me, and I pour in around four, then add obscene amounts of sugar. Stirring and tasting, I see that it is to my liking, and drain half the mug. I'm able to scarf down the bacon and ham before anyone speaks.

"As I was previously asking, when was the first time you had a successful flight?" Pamela asks. I have to consider this while I cut chunks off the waffles. I don't remember the first time I flew. I was self-taught at a very young age, just sort of taking off around my room before I was of school age. My mother had to contain me, scolding me to not fly when other people were around. When I started school, I guess paranoia set in about ever thinking of showing my wings, the firm restrictions put on by my parents made me think it was something I shouldn't do, like being caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Around the age of eight, I guess I really started flying. My mom told me at age seven I could fly whenever I wanted, as long as I wasn't caught. Especially by Payton.

"Uh, I don't remember my first successful flight. I was too young, I guess." I notice for the first time she's jotting things down on a clipboard in front of her. Her plate only holds some fruit, and a dollop of yogurt, whereas Jeb is working down a cinnamon bun and a cup of black coffee. The half Eraser - I guess that's my name for him now on - in tearing into poptarts like there's no tomorrow. I point at the dwindling supply of toaster pastries, then gesture at the half Eraser with my fork. "Hey, save some of those for me, 'kay, buddy?"

"Don't call me 'buddy', little freak." he says defiantly, taking another poptart. I reach over and take it from his hand, and boldly take a bite of the still-warm pastry. "Hey!" he barks, and I stand up, towering over him until he jumps up, too. My fists clench, crumbling the poptart in my hand.

"Call me a freak. One. More. Time. I'm warning you." I growl. He considers this for a moment, and when he looks like he might pounce, Jeb puts a hand to his chest. The half Eraser's head snaps toward him, looking infuriated. I'm close to cracking myself, but I really don't want to kill this guy.

"Careful, Ari. She took out two newborn Erasers. She's at lethal level." He says evenly, trying to get Ari to sit back down. I hold my ground, though, half-leaning over the table. A cunning smile reaches my lips, but Ari is forced to surrender. I try not to gloat as I stuff the crumbled poptart into my mouth, claiming my victory. I sit back down and grab another, then a cinnamon roll, and some fruit and yogurt. Pamela speaks up again as I half bite, half shove the cinnamon roll into my mouth.

"Do you have any relationships with the other children in your area, e.g. your school, neighborhood, or community?" she asks.

"Yeah, I have a few close friends. Not real close with my sister, though." I say. the majority of kids at school know me, either for my grades or just knowing of me. I do have a few people I dislike, of course, and I'm not the friendliest person in the world. It took me years to fight off my paranoia enough to stay with friends, and even then I was very exclusive with what I'd do. I've only ever stayed with one friend, my best friend, Stormy Pierce. But I'd never mention her by name to these evil 'scientists'.

"Okay." Pamela intones as she scribbles across the clipboard. I start in on my juice, really starting to feel the kick of the caffeine from the coffee. I grab both a lemon and cherry danish, and three mini chocolate chip muffins. I begin to experiment with the muffins, eating each one in a bite, mentally cataloging the kind of muffin. Pumpkin. Blueberry. Raspberry. Banana Nut. Peach. The flavors continue. It's now that I notice the omelets, taking one of each to determine the type of omelet. The first one I bite into is a plain cheese.

"And when was the last time you engaged in a successful flight?" asks Pamela. I'm not sure if I can consider my being shot out of the sky a 'successful flight'. The memory brings back one of those heavy mood swings, this time so powerful I grip the table and try to focus on the steam rolling off the pot of black coffee so I don't go haywire. Is this some sort of crazy side-effect to the new strength and agility? If so, I hope it clears up, and soon. Next thing you know, I'll be crying about the time my hamster died.

"Kate? Katherine? Kate, you're breaking the table." I hear Jeb say, and my head snaps to my iron grip on the edge of the table. Sure enough, I've left a considerable crack from the grip of my right hand, making Ari tense up out of the corner of my eye. Now he has proof, good. Maybe he'll think twice about ticking me off next time.

"Kate, are you okay? Do you need some time to cool down? I can hold on the questions, if you like." I hear Pamela say, with an actual note of concern in her voice. Maybe she just worries that if I lose it, she'll be going down right with Ari over there. Yep, he's first on my list. I loosen my grip on the table, pausing for a moment to make sure it's stable, and sit back in my chair. I stare emptily at the floor under the table when I speak.

"No, no. I'm fine. It's just..." I say, then look up at her. "Would you consider being shot out of the sky a successful flight?"

She looks bewildered that I'd touch such a topic. They must not know as much as I thought they did. She regains her composure before she says, "Well, no. I guess I wouldn't."

"Oh. Well, then, my last flight would be yesterday, around midday." I snap. I think Ari is trying to hold back laughter, but with the strange, distorted image of a face he has, it's a shot in the dark.

"That will be enough questions, won't it, Dr. Yenesen?" Jeb says pointedly at Pamela, and she nods, clicking her pen closed.

"Yes, that will be all. Please, finish your breakfast and have Jeb escort you to the testing yard at oh-seven hundred." she says crisply. She proceeds to stand up and push her chair in before exiting through the door we came in. Oh, good. The testing yard. What fun.

When the door clicks closed, Jeb says, "Sometimes Pamela doesn't know when enough is enough. She was the first one to agree with the Director's orders to... enhance you." This time, Ari does chuckle. It's very rough, and sounds like a mix between a hen's clucking and a dying goat. The comparison makes me hold back a smile.

"Wow, how nice of her. I'll make sure to remember that next time she takes it too far." I say nonchalantly, cutting off another hunk of omelet with my fork and stuffing it in my mouth. Ari really laughs, this time, somehow amused by my threat. His laughter is something hideous I have no comparison to. It's actually kind of sickening, but I'm not one to lose my appetite all too quickly. "By the way, what time is it?" I ask.

Jeb checks his watch. "Six thirty-two."

"Great." I say, eating away at my second omelet, which I find to have mushrooms and bacon among the cheese. Yum. "So.. what's with you? Thought all the boys went off and did their own thing." I say with a mouthful of cheese, pointing at Ari with my fork.

"Oh, excuse my manners. This is my son, Ari." Jeb says proudly, yet Ari only glares at him. He puts a paw next to his mouth, the back of it facing Jeb.

"I'm here against my own will." he says jokingly, and the attempt at friendship makes me smile a little.

"Join the club." I tease back, and on comes that hen-clucking, goat-dying chuckle. Jeb smiles along too, seeming to be the eternal good sport. I decide that Pamela now takes place as number one on my kill list, Jeb and Ari competing for a close second.

This goes on for about twenty more minutes, the teasing and smiling, the both weird chuckle from Ari, a ringing laughter from Jeb, and the occasional smile or hint of a laugh from me. The hilarity really comes around when we start mixing foods, spreading butter on poptarts, dowsing one another's omelets with milk, or someone's waffle with juice. Yogurt in Jeb's coffee. The cinnamon roll drenched in creamer and coffee turns out to actually be a good idea, so we all try it. I start to pour syrup on fruit and so does Ari, finding strawberries are best served with syrup on top. By the time we've eaten all the fruit and ruined practically everyone's coffee, Jeb tells me it's time to go. Ari asks to come and watch, and Jeb grants him permission. I would protest, but the last half hour has really made an improvement on my view of Ari. Of course, I don't think of him as a friend, but as a fellow part-animal human being, I think he's the closest thing to it I have here at the School.

Ari and Jeb lead me through a web of hallways, doors, and rooms lined with cages until we reach the door that leads outside. It amazes me how well they know their way around here, when I'd given up trying to remember my way after turn six, or was it door three? I'll never know. Anyway, this isn't the same door that I'd gone out before. No, I see that door on a building to my right. I notice for the first time that the testing yard resembles that of a prison yard, a horseshoe shape of buildings around the yard, a high chain-link fence on the open side, atop with rings of barbed wire. Instinctively, I look up, and to my surprise, there's no net or cage or anything keeping me from flying away. I notice Jeb watching me, and quickly look across the yard instead of up. In front of me, in the middle of the yard, is the bench where the Erasers sat, and to its right, a small shed-type structure with a water fountain mounted to the side. Gotta stay hydrated, after all! I scowl at the shed and look to my left, where Ari is walking past me, toward the bench. I turn to Jeb.

"What am I doing here?" I ask him. He crosses his arms over his chest and sighs.

"Apparently waiting for the rest of the scientists. Including Dr. Yenesen." He hastily checks his watch, then folds his arms again. "It's oh-seven hundred now."

"Well, then. I guess we'll just have to sit down and relax! What a horror!" I say mockingly, holding my hands to my cheeks. Jeb rolls his eyes at me as I stroll over and sit down on the bench, about half a seat's space away from Ari. He may be nicer than most people here, but he still kind of grosses me out. Sorry.

Jeb joins us and we just sit there in silence for a couple of minutes, and as Ari gets up to head to the water fountain, the door in front of us on the far wall swings open, revealing several people wearing white lab coats, including the Pamiester. Jeb sighs again and braces his hands on his knees before he stands up to meet them. I take that as my cue to stay seated. If this is all about me, then they can come to me. I'm not really one for social graces like standing up and shaking hands, but my extended family does get in the occasional hug. The 'scientists' come up and shake Jeb's hand one by one, and by the time he's on the second to the last one, Ari comes and sits back beside me. He doesn't stay standing and shake everybody's hand, and my respect for him seems to be more than that for Jeb. The whitecoats stand in front of me when they finish greeting Jeb, making a small herd in front of me. I wonder if they want me to stand, to greet them cordially, maybe curtsey or something. I don't, however, I just stay sitting while they watch my every movement, my every breath. It's really starting to get awkward by the time Pamela makes her way up to Jeb, giving a terse nod before turning to me and the whitecoats. I hope Pamela can make note of the scowl on my face.

"Ladies, gentlemen." Jeb begins, and they all turn toward him reluctantly. "As you must all be aware of, this is subject three five one four, otherwise known as Katherine. I expect you to treat her with the utmost of courtesy during these tests, for she has shown impressive cooperation. A true model for experiments." he explains. A model for experiments? So, is that what the proper term is? 'Experiments'? Wow, way to dig deep, Jeb.

The whitecoats murmur excitedly amongst themselves while I glare at Jeb. He doesn't notice, though, he's too busy talking with Pamela while she's undoubtedly noting the day's events since she left the room. Or so suggest the untraceable scribble of her pen across the clipboard. The other whitecoats begin preparing, too, one that I can see drawing up a chart, others taking out instruments and measuring the weather and wind. One finally approaches me, a tall, thin, balding man with dark grey hair and wrinkles set in his pale face. His grey eyes look tired, and the droop of his skin sets his face in a permanent scowl.

"Hello, Katherine." he starts, his voice deep and slightly rusty. "We're just going to measure your heart rate and blood pressure before we start. Is that okay?" I can't help but compare him to my late great grandfather, a man of similar looks and age. But the resemblance stops there. This man would probably take a knife to me in a heartbeat, dissect my air sacs or something. I cringe mentally at the thought.

"And who are you?" I ask critically. The man looks taken aback for a moment before he answers.

"Dr. Whitlon." he says calmly. I narrow my eyes at him for a moment.

"No needles?" I ask.

"No needles."

I hold my arm out in front of me, and he takes an oldschool blood pressure measurer from the pocket of his lab coat, the kind you have to pump manually. He velcros the cuff around my arm, and I have a momentary flashback of waking up on a cold metal table, feeling totally vulnerable against my velcro restraints. I grip something, anything, while the man pumps the cuff with air, tightening it around my arm, which doesn't help.

"Ow! Ow, ow, ow! Kate, let go!" I hear Ari yell, and I realize what I grabbed was his furry wrist. The bone feels as if it can't take anymore tension, so I release him before he has to leave this field by way of injury. Jeb promised him he could watch, after all. Ari looks at the doctor. "You're not going to get a right measure right now. She's too pumped." Dr. Whitlon looks him over critically, before releasing my arm. He still calls out my results to a nearby woman whitecoat, who writes it down along with about five others.

"Sorry." I mumble at Ari, but he doesn't acknowledge me. Just rubs his wrist obsessively. The doctor take out his stethoscope, something I'm at least familiar with. He instructs me to take deep breaths as he holds it first over my heart, then to my back, where my lungs are. Apparently aware of my air sacs, he also hold it to the sides of my midsection and tells me to breathe deeper, and hold it longer. Jeb comes walking up, arms crossed across his chest again. One look at me and he knows something isn't right. I see it on his face.

"Are you okay, there, son?" He asks, referring to the way Ari keeps flexing his wrist.

"Fine." Ari mumbles, and Jeb nods.

"And you, Kate?" he says, more concern in his voice. I glare at him and breathe a little easier when Dr. Whitlon puts his stethoscope around his neck and goes to join the other whitecoats in some conversation that I'm most likely the topic of.

"Silently freaking out." I squeak, and look at the ground. I feel my wings unconsciously folding out, inspiring gasps, silence, then more murmurs from the crowd of whitecoats. Ari scoots down the bench to compensate for the space my wings take up. Jeb crouches down in front of me, hands on my shoulders, but I just continue to stare at the ground.

"This wasn't supposed to happen." he says quietly to himself when he thinks he doesn't have my attention. He then looks up at me. "Kate, you need to calm down. The scientists here just want to observe a little flight pattern, take some notes. Maybe a little blood." My head snaps up at that last comment, and he consoles me quickly. "Most likely not. And if so, it won't even hurt." he reassures me. I nod and swallow, trying to steel myself, to force back the emotions for the second time today. He stands up and steps back for one of the female whitecoats, a young-looking woman, maybe thirty, with shoulder-length brown hair and freckles under her controlled green eyes. She crouches down, too, and avoids my eye as she takes a metal cuff out of her pocket and quickly attaches it to my ankle as I try to break free of her grasp, kicking strongly, but not fast enough to prevent her from succeeding.

She lets me off the hook, surprisingly, saying a loud, "Thank you for your cooperation." before scuttling off to join the other whitecoats. The cuff starts beeping, and flashing a small, green light before tightening to fit my ankle snugly. Atrackingdevice. my mind notes. I jump off the bench and look up to see Jeb biting his nails. I wonder if he thinks this will trigger me. He must. Pamela strides forward and stands a few feet away from me.

"Katherine, if you would, we'd like you to perform your basic flight, and feel free to stray as far from the facility as you like, as long as you're back in three hours." she says in her most uniform way.

"I don't have a watch." I complain, stroking my right wing with my left hand, the feathers smooth and silky under my touch. Pamela rolls her eyes and takes off her own watch, handing it to me. I fasten the thin, silver timekeeping piece around my right wrist. "Oh, and I had a jacket on when I came. Where is that?"

Pamela calls over the young brown-haired girl, and quietly gives her directions to a room in the facility while handing her a keyring. The girl nods and walks quickly off, breaking into a sprint across the yard. She must be about twenty-five or so to run like that. She disappears behind the door, and Pamela gives me a look that says, 'You're making me look bad.' Taking advantage of her annoyance, I raise my hand and point toward the crowd. "And who here has something I could take to eat?" I ask, and Jeb steps forward, pulling out his wallet.

"There's a small strip mall about ten miles from here. It has both a diner and a grocery store. Get what you like." he says, handing me a few twenties and patting my shoulder. I smile and turn back to Ari, flaunting my new riches. He just rolls his eyes. I seem to spark quite an annoyance here. Just then, the girl comes bursting out of the door, my hoodie in hand. She sprints over and hands it to me, giving a small nod as I take it and tie it around my waist, folding in my wings.

"Okay, I'm good now. I'll see you guys later!" I say, giving a small wave and turning toward the fence. I saunter forward a few steps, then break out in a run. About three yards away from running smack dab into the fence, I jump up, arms ahead of me, and unfurl my wings. They catch the air forcefully, and after a few down strokes, I'm able to circle around the School once, looking down to see Jeb pointing south, toward the buildings. I nod, knowing he can't see it, and turn south. Every head is looking up at me, so I make a show of loopty-loops and twists high into the air before jetting off in the direction of the strip mall. Surrounding the whole School is a thick forest, the only break in the trees being the one road entry to the School. I focus on the edge of those woods, but take my time swooping and banking through the air, feeling the sun on my face and warming my feathers. It's a calm yet invigorating feeling, flying through a cloudless sky on a warm day. Was it only yesterday that I was visiting my beloved field, dropping from the high treehouse? Yes, it was. Only another Saturday, one where my mom texted a robot, Payton obsessed over social status, and I ate enough food to feed a small army. Here comes another mood swing, I can feel it. This time it's sadness, hurt, a pang of longing. I decide now would be the best time to land, so I circle lower and lower over the woods until I'm able to duck down beneath the canopy of trees, banking abruptly to practice the weaving maneuver I've yet to master. I burst through a break in the trees and make a snap decision to land in a tree across the clearing. I swerve up into an upright position as I use my wings as a break, holding out my arms to grab the tree. I get purchase on the tree, thankfully, and find a branch to place my feet on. I turn around strategically, as to not fall out of the trees, and brace my back against the tree. I slowly slide down the trunk into a sitting position, my knees tucked up to my chest. Finding balance on my perch, I reach over to the next tree and pluck a few leaves from it. Popping in my mouth, I begin to chew, saliva mixing with the minty greens to form a type of cud, similar to that of a cow. I chew contently, eyes half closed, peering through the sunlighted clearing to the trees across the way. A few birds hop around the branches, singing occasionally. I decide to try and join in their tune, singing a simple melody at first. A few chirps answer, and I take that as my invite to join the conversation. I start to whistle out every bird song I know, getting many similar responses.

After what my new watch tells me is an hour, I decide that it's time to go somewhere. I'll be the first to admit I'm not very fond of social affairs with people I don't know, but then again, I can literally break someone in half if they lay a finger on me. I guess that should give a confidence boost, so I stand up in my tree before I can talk myself out of it. I spread my arms in my usual manner, letting myself fall from the branch. This tree is shorter than my treehouse, causing a quicker response time. I'm forced to simultaneously retract my arms and unfold my wings, desperately flapping as my shoes graze the ground. Somehow, I manage to gain some distance from the ground, looping around and flying off toward the strip mall.

It takes no time at all to fly the estimated ten miles, landing behind what once was a department store, but now just sits empty. My pull-over is still tied around my waist, and I take some time to brush off dirt left from the tree trunk before pulling it over my head. In the pocket is a hair elastic, and I pull my hair back in an unceremonious way. About fifty yards off is a gas station, accompanied by a grocery store. Fifty more yards off from that lies an old school red-and-white diner with a sign that reads 'Kenny's'. I decide that the diner would be the best choice, and start walking jogging over to it, catching the eyes of a teenager-y girl pumping gas into her car as I pass. I completely ignore her and her little blue car, walking up to the diner and pulling the door open, achieving a Ring! from the bell above the door.

A/N: Like it? Don't? Let me know, if you want. Be nice to know someone hasn't stopped reading altogether. Anyway, long chapter, expect another long one next time. Been working on it. Maybe be posted by next week, maybe half a week after that. I don't know, I'm tired, and busy, and tomorrow's Monday. Inspiration comes and goes, and so does time to write. *shrug*