Numb
Song: NOOONNE! Sorry ya'll! And again, I'm sorry for the wait.
I wish that I would've known then what I do now. I wish that I would've stopped Angel before she lost herself. I wished that I could've told Fang that he was wrong; The Flock needed him more than they needed a brown-winged girl who couldn't keep it together when her boyfriend left. I wish that I could've stopped the doctors before they deprived Iggy of his eyesight, before they took Gazzy away from his mother. I wish that I could've stopped Ari and told him that he meant the world to me. All the mistakes that I've compiled and collected like stamps have an eerie way of stabbing in the back at first chance. I'm thinking over these things as I absently stare out the window at endless fields of amber. Waves of wind cause the thin stalks of grain to ripple and blur outside of the fast-moving car. My wings ache; they're cramped tight to the sticky fabric seat. My brown eyes are stinging from the tears that have resurfaced every few hours. Driving in the front seat, my Mom casts worried glances back at me through the mirror. She's hoping that I'll magically poof into myself again. I've made too many mistakes for that. Every time I try to tell her, my voice stops. I can't bring myself to speak. It's not Fang anymore, my broken heart will mend. It's knowing that my best friends, my family, is all alone out there…without me. Me: the girl who shattered like a sheet of thin glass on a concrete floor, who crumpled like paper in fiery flames. First the edges curled. I endured. Then the middle browned and became dust in the wind. Specks that meant nothing to any other person in the world but me. It meant that I was hopeless, without any hope of returning to the world I once knew, or the people I still loved and lived for.
"Max, are you okay?" my Mother prompts. I still can't stand emotion. As a response, I bite my lip and whimper. My Mom clicks the button for her turn signal, the car veers left.
"Fang thought he was protecting you, sweetie. You can't hold it against him."
It was true, I couldn't. He was so perfect, so everything…..I had already forgiven him. Ages ago, days ago….time was pointless and wispy. Stretchy, it was, like play-doh rolled under the press of a rolling pin, smooshed until it was flat. Like glass poured into molds of paper-thin windows. Hesitantly, I let my window squeak down. Cold air forces me to squint my eyes, the sounds of the road hiss back at me. Suddenly, the window goes back up.
"Let's not do that right now." My Mother's overly-sympathetic tones assault my ears.
"Okay."
It's the first word I've said in six months. My mom's brown eyes widen. I know that she's trying hard not to call the cellphone that she gave to Iggy, to tell the Flock that I've spoken. I'm grateful that she doesn't. I don't think that I could stand more shallow words. I now knew why Fang never spoke. All the worries he had to hold up. He was more stable than brick, I was a fragile shell. I had broken in time. But he would never break.
The car stops. I fumble at my seatbelt and manage to free myself from the confines of the vehicle. A gravel driveway makes crunchy noises beneath my feet. I scoff my foot forward, and a musky gray cloud of dust rises in the humid air. I can feel the moisture cling to my clothes and face and neck. It makes me want to cough. On the other side of the car, my Mom slams the door. She shoves her shiny silver keys into her pockets and walks up to the front entrance to my new home.
The sign reads HARMONT GIRLS' RECOVERY HOME. But I know what it is. It's a place where people won't think I'm crazy for thinking that I have wings or for being depressed at my life. It's a place where the crazies go. Worst of all, it's a place where I'll be safe.
I hate the word safe now. It's only for the Flock, to keep them from harm. I hope that they're not injured or in danger or-
Stop worrying, Maximum.
My full first name feels like a smack on my cheek. Only Fang calls me that. I'm too feeble to respond to the Voice's gentle waves of concern. This time, no more words swarm into my mind. No clues, no directions. It's peaceful, serene, and weird. I decide instantly that I don't like it. My mom crosses her arms over her chest as a plump lady in a faded pair of jean capris and a gauzy lavender t-shirt opens the door. She smiles when she sees me. "Well, hello! Is this our new guest?"
My Mom doesn't answer. Instead, she shoves an armful of paperwork at the lady, who frowns slightly behind her coral lipstick.
"And how long will Maxine be staying with us?"
My Mom takes a look at me, weary reluctance tugging her barely there wrinkles deeper into her face. "I don't know. Call me when she's…stable."
"Ah. I see." The lady claps her hands and ushers me inside. It's a lobby with flat-screen TVs and squishy cushions on the floor. Wood floors laden with rectangular striped rugs strewn around the room taunt me. Girls mill around the room and chatter nervously when they see me. No doubt that they're talking about my slightly lumpy back. I couldn't feel my feathers.
"Now then. My name is Penelope, and I'll be your assigned mentor while you're here. Your room is a single-person room. Your Mum said that you must get a dressing room all to yourself! The others girls will be so jealous! Anywho, dinner's at six in the caf. You can ask around for directions. Other than that, just don't get into trouble and we won't have to give you a schedule." Penelope finished. I found my room and plopped down on the warm, cozy sheets. They were a crisp white. I ran my fingertips along the fabric, hearing the sound like a zipper pulling up.
This was my new home.
There were people here, but I was all alone.
They don't know.
They won't care.
The worst part?
I can't feel a thing.