No, it wasn't confusing. I was just wondering if someone was planning on doing something, like you talked through a PM or something.
Blake
We were gathered, sitting, talking about what to do. Ellie had flown off, so we didn’t have to keep our voices down. One thing kept springing up; Plan Miracle. Also, Ellie. Some thought that she had brought the humans here.
But the truth was they had been active in this way before then. We should be thanking her; without her we were blind. Yes, she showed us our worst fears, but she was preparing us. This was much better than being caught off guard, like we had been with the wolves the first round. In all fairness, Ellie was the best secret weapon we could hope to have.
And I sternly told them that and stalked off.
I went out of view and sat down. Again the urge to cry overwhelmed me. It was only my years of dealing with grief, and my sureness that hope was never to be found, that kept me from breaking down.
The truth was, I wanted to yell. I wanted to scream. I wanted to be in denial, fly off--OK, maybe run--and prove that it was all a lie. But I knew it wasn't. And I finally realized how I knew that.
The thing was, humans were everything I despised most. They were also everything I wanted to be. I wanted it more than anything. To a human, whether you could fly well or not didn’t matter, because flying wasn’t real unless you were in an airplane. Fighting on the ground, that had weight, had reward.
Before I was sent here, I would have given anything to be a human. I was ashamed of my wings, and I tried to hide them. But I wasn’t the only one in my family who was a freak.
I had heard rumors of what they did to mature winged ones, that they sent them to die, to drown. I had been so caught up in myself that I hurt everyone around me. I even turned in my own sister in hopes that they would let me live, pretending I was normal.
But they didn’t. Once my wings were big enough--about the same size they are now--they brought me here, and thought I had died. When I miraculously lived, the other winged ones found me. I realized what an idiot I had been, so I decided to start with a clean slate; I even changed my name to Blake.
It had been Alissa.
I was older than Ellie but less than a year, so we were both thirteen if I had my dates right.
That’s how I knew she was right; she was always right. She was always good at being a winged one; she could fly as easily as walk, and she even had a power. I’d never admit it out loud, but I was jealous.
And I would do anything to keep my true identity a secret. I hoped beyond hope--hope which I rarely called upon--that she wouldn’t recognize me. She’d never forgive me. And everyone else would be disgusted of my actions, would probably shun me for my foolishness.
At that moment, I cried. A single tear rolled down my cheek.
A tear I’d been holding back for two years.
A tear I cried for causing my family’s slaughter.
Soon I bent over and wept.
~