Iggy

Yawning Iggy rose from his desk, where he'd spent the last hour and a half planning his escape.. Tonight was the night. He was leaving, for good. He had rushed his decision, but he would rather leave unprepared than be subjected to the humiliation of staying.

He was not a tool. A freak, a miracle, a pyro, or an inventor – perhaps, but he was not something to be used for another's personal gain. He might be different, but did that really give others the right to treat him so?

Yet, despite this, his feeling, his so called 'loving parents' had done it again. Behind his back they had gone and booked another interview, another chance to be shown off like some circus sideshow. He had wings, big deal.

By midnight he was ready, carrying a pack with enough to hold him over for the first couple days. It was time to go. At the door he stood a moment, not bothering to turn around and view his home one last time. Not only was it not worth his time, but he had long ago lost the ability to do so.

Stealth was not necessary. Both of Iggy's parents often spent their nights out on the town. Financed by the numerous bookings with reporters and the occasional talk show host. Right now they were likely enjoying an expensive meal at some fancy new restaurant, completely unaware their money maker was giving them the slip. Wouldn't they be disappointed upon returning home?

It was fairly quiet tonight, and a gentle breeze rustled the trees, and caused the metal buildings surrounding him to groan. Perfect flying conditions, he smiled.

Iggy walked the several blocks it took to reach the city park, which, surprisingly enough, was fairly large. At it center was a sizable lake, where he often went when he felt the need to spread his wings.

Although he could not see them as he walked silently down the city street, Iggy felt several eyes follow him. This was nothing unusual. He had been given quite the reputation in this city, and he soon heard the whispers pick up.

"Hey, isn't that the bird kid?"

"Woah! Look over there, it's the bird kid!"
"They really allow it out alone, what are they thinking?"

"Mommy, mommy, I wanna go talk to Mr. Bird Man!"

"No, no honey, come on now, keep walking. Let's go, now."

Iggy did his best to ignore the murmurs, but he twitched at that damn nickname, how he hated it! Bird kid this, Bird kid that, did they not know he had a name? Or, at the very least, acknowledge he was a human being, not some thing to be kept on a leash. That he had come from two very human parents, oddities aside. He had thoughts, feelings, and everything else all these other people seemed to think he lacked. That and just a little more. Just a little too much.

Twelve blocks later he finally escaped the watching eyes stepping into what shelter the trees offered. He breathed a sigh of relief. Tomorrow, his parents would quickly hear of his escape, but by then it would be too late. He would be long gone. As Iggy's determination strengthened, so did his stride. This was it, tonighthe was free.

In his next home, although where that would be, he did not know, Iggy would no longer suffer the hateful life he had been forced to endure for so long. Finally, he would have the chance at a normal life, away from the greed of his parents, and the ridicule of those who knew of his wings. Blindness would be his only difference, and it would be a difference others could accept. Because they would have something he did not, rather than the other way around.

Satisfied with thoughts ofthe impending change, Iggy stepped into the moonlit clearing and, with a flourish, outstretched his wings. He did not know it, for he had never seen them, but they were magnificent; a dappled gray with ginger flecks. For years they had been featured in the most interesting news articles and papers, scientists had studied them, prodded them, and cut them. Over time he had grown to hate them. At the same time, he could not help but love them as well.

His wings gave him independence. They gave him an identity, however apart it set him. People feared what was not like them, and he certainly was not like them. Iggy knew the joy of flying through the night, soaring above the pain and anger of people. In the sky they could not touch him. They could not hurt him.

He understood their discontent. Iggy had suffered a similar fate. At a young age his eyesight had abandoned him, and left but the faintest of memories. Colors were the only things he could recall, and even then, the could not name them. At times he loathed those who had what he did not, who could see things he never would. Difference was not always good, it meant having and not having what others did and did not. So he would hide away his difference, and pretend he accepted theirs.

He flexed his wings softly, before pushing down swiftly. A powerful beat of his wings, followed by another, and then another. He rose into the air, and up above the lake, and above the trees. For the last time he passed over the city. People gazed up, and pointed from their place on the street. Watching in awe as a child with wings tore through the night. It would be the last any saw those magnificent dappled gray wings, and their ginger flecks.

On powerful wings, Iggy disappeared into the night.

Leaving behind the atrocities of a previous life, he set his sights on bigger and brighter things. Somewhere was a place none had ever heard his name, and none would recognize his face.

Tomorrow was a new day, and within it held a new life. His life.