Young Writers Society

Author's note in comments. Enjoy. :)

“Well, are you just gonna stand there with your mouth hanging open or are you gonna say something?” The girl cocks an eyebrow.

“You have wings,” I say dumbly.

The girl blinks. “Yes, I am, in fact, Avian. Don’t look so surprised. It’s not like you haven’t seen one before.”

“Not besides myself.” I continue to gape at her wings. In the shade, they look as dark as charcoal. I watch in awe as she folds them behind her back. Something about them seems so powerful. Like they’ve carried her across miles and miles of unforgiving skies. I wonder if they really have carried her that far. She’s not from anywhere near here, after all.

The girl’s eyes go wide. “What? What about your parents?”

“They’re human.”

“That’s impossible. Avians haven’t been born into human families in, like, forty years.”

I just shrug. I don’t have an explanation, either.

“So you’re telling me that you’re the only Avian in this town? And what about travelers or tourists?”

“Well, if you couldn’t already tell, this town isn’t very partial to Winged folk.”

“Yeah, I got that figured out pretty quick.” the girl rolls her eyes.

I suddenly remember the steady throbbing in my head. I wince and bring a hand to my temple. The girl frowns, eyes traveling to my wings, where she frowns even further.

“Listen, Goldie. I can help you out,” she pauses to warily glance around. “just… not here. If you come with me, I can get your wings all fixed up.”

I don’t understand how she’s going to fix a mutilation like this, but I don’t have any other options. “Okay.” I slowly rise, using the tree as support. “And, it’s Athiya.”

The girl squints at me. “What?”

“My name. It’s Athiya.”

“Oh! Right, of course. I’m Ravyn.”

“Ravyn,” I repeat. “Nice to—“ My vision sways as I move away from the tree. I stumble to the side, losing my balance. My wings thrust out in an attempt to regain my balance, the shortened feathers stark in comparison to Ravyn's full ones.

Ravyn rushes forward, looping an arm around me in support. "Woah, there." I can practically hear the frown on her face. "You might be in worse condition than I thought you were."

She holds her breath, glancing around the area again, before releasing the air through her mouth and pulling a phone out of her back pocket. She types a message using only one hand, her eyebrows drawn tight together. I close my eyes because the sunlight suddenly feels much too bright.

"Hey. Goldie." Ravyn's snapping fingers cause my eyes to flutter open. "We gotta get moving."

"It's Athiya," I remind her.

"Okay, Athiya, or whatever," she corrects.

She leads me across the grass, back the way I came. I close my eyes again since I don't need to focus on where I'm going anymore. I feel the adrenaline slowly seeping out of my body, replaced by an aching stiffness in my bones.

And, if I try hard enough, I can imagine that the plip-plop of blood dripping from my wings isn't blood, but rain. I can pretend that the water is washing away my wounds and making my feathers grow back. And it won't matter if I cry in the rain, because who will be able to tell the difference between tear tracks and raindrops?

It feels like we’ve walked ten miles before Ravyn finally comes to a halt. “Hey, wake up, sleepy bird. We’re here.”

Reluctantly, I peel my eyes open. Ravyn has led me to an empty street, concealed by old buildings and cracked pavement. I don’t know where “here” is, but it doesn’t look very promising. I turn my head to Ravyn, who is scowling at the road. My gaze drifts over to her wings, which catch in the sunlight. Vibrant blues and greens shimmer across her wings, an attribute only noticeable in the light of day.

Tearing my eyes away, I follow Ravyn's gaze, trying to see what she's so angry at. The air in front of me warps and twists, everything around it bending and turning. It starts melting like butter, right where Ravyn is looking. Where the air seems to melt, a giant black van stands in it’s place.

"What...What was that? What did you do?" I gape.

Ravyn drags me toward the van. "I'll explain later. Get in."

I shake my head, convincing myself I’m imagining things. Maybe it’s because I hit my head too hard, or I’ve suffered too much blood loss because what just happened can’t have any other realistic explanation.

Suddenly, it hits me. I'm getting thrown into a giant van by a stranger. I could be getting kidnapped. All the news articles I read told me to stay away from the Avians; that they were dangerous and shouldn't be trusted. Yet, here I am, in their hands, wounded and vulnerable.

I hesitate at the open door, one foot suspended in the air. I don't know how my body suddenly feels so stable, but my mind is far from it. Am I going to get hurt even worse if I step into this van? Do I really have a choice in the matter? Should I take the gamble, even though I'm practically guaranteed to lose either way?

"Oh my God," Ravyn mumbles. She steps out of the van, latches onto my arms, and drags me forward.

I nearly trip over the floorboards, and jump as the door slams behind me. My wings still haven't stopped bleeding. Now that I'm inside, I can't pretend it's raining. I can't pretend everything is alright.

The interior of the van looks like a cross between a camper, an ambulance, and a spy van that you’d see in a movie. One wall is filled with monitors and screens, all dark and turned off. The other wall has wooden cabinets and a countertop underneath.

"What the hell, Ravyn? You can't just drag injured people around like they're ragdolls!"

I snap my head to the left, startled at the voice. A boy lounges in a chair that looks way too comfortable to be in a van. A pair of sunglasses shaped like pineapples sits on the bridge of his nose, contradicting the worried tone of his voice. I'm so distracted by the sunglasses that I almost miss the deep crimson wings on his back, but when I notice them, I gasp.

“We have to get going, Cal. The longer we dink around here, the more likely we are to get caught and killed!”

Cal turns to me. “Ravyn tends to get anxious when she uses her Ability in public. Don’t worry, it’s nothing personal.”

“Cal! Are you stupid or did you not read the text I sent you?”

The two continue bickering, and I keep staring at Cal’s wings. They’re such a distinct color, it reminds me of something. Then, I look at my own wings and realize his feathers match the blood dripping from mine. Suddenly, I’m not so transfixed by his wings.

I think about what Cal said earlier. Ravyn gets anxious when she uses her Ability. Ability? What is an ability? Is that what happened when the van appeared out of nowhere? I already convinced myself that I just hit my head too hard, but what if I was wrong? No, there was no way it was actually real. Cal must be talking about something else, like how strong Ravyn is. Yes, that makes much more sense.

“Jeez, Ravyn, what’d you do to her? She looks like she’s about to have an aneurysm.” Cal looks at me with worry.

“Well, maybe it’s because you haven’t been doing anything other than—”

“Would you two knock it off?”

I jump at the voice. It comes from the front of the van, where two more Winged people sit in the driver and passenger seats. The man in the driver’s seat looks much older than the rest of the teens, who are probably around my age. His wings are dark gray, but the tips of his primary feathers are all neon blue. He turns around to glare at Ravyn and Cal, who have both crossed their arms with a huff.

“Now, can you both please help this poor girl, who has been standing there, injured, while you two argued.”

My eyes travel to the boy in the passenger seat, who still hasn’t said a word. His wings look like suck’s wings; mostly gray, with a stripe of green. I can’t see much of his face, but from what I do see, his eyes are closed, and his brow furrows with concentration.

I am in a van with four Avians. Not one of them has looked at me with disgust or fear. That’s all I’ve ever really wanted in life, I think. For people to treat me like I’m normal.

“Right,” Cal mutters, stepping toward me. “Listen, dude. You’re not going to understand much of what’s about to happen, but I need you to save all your questions until the end, alright? Otherwise, it’s going to take a long time to get you healed up. Got it?”

I nod, and I can’t help but say, “It’s really hard to take you seriously when you’re wearing pineapple sunglasses.”

“That’s the point!” He laughs. “Now sit.”

Cal points to a chair that looks an awful lot like an exam table, which again reminds me of an ambulance. I do as I’m told, though, silently grateful for the chance to rest. My head still throbs, my vision still swims, and my wings are still bleeding. I don’t know how long it’s been since Jay and his friends cut my feathers. It could have been years ago, for all I know.

The two Avians in the front quietly talk to each other, and the car lurches forward. If I was still standing, I probably would have fallen.

“She hit her head, right?” Cal asks Ravyn without turning away from me.

“Yeah,” Ravyn confirms.

“Hm, probably concussed, then. Shouldn’t be enough blood loss from her wings to cause problems. Some of those feathers will, though,” Cal mutters under his breath, all the while inspecting me with his pineapple sunglasses.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Athiya.”

“Alright, Athiya, can you extend out your wing as far as you can? Just don’t hit the walls.”

I follow his instructions, and even though I know he’s going to touch my wings, I still flinch as he does.

He snatches his hands away, muttering an apology. “Do you…not want me to—”

“It’s fine.” I grit my teeth. It’s fine.

“Okay, just tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable.”

I nod, even though I already know I won’t speak up.

“That pin feather needs to be pulled out. Do you want me to count to three or just pull it out?”

I instantly retract my wing, avoiding the boy’s gaze. “Can I just pull it?”

“Um, yeah, that’s fine, but it’ll—”

I wordlessly yank out the bleeding feather.

“—hurt,” he finishes.

“Does the other one need pulled, too?” I ask.

When he nods, I pull out the pin feather on my other wing, dropping both of the feathers to the floor. I don’t look at them; I can’t. Not when everything still sounds like rain.

Cal gapes at me for a moment before shaking his head. “Okay, you’re going to want to lie down for this part.”

I lean back slowly, scared that I might hit my head again. The van drives much smoother than I thought it would. I can barely tell that we’re moving.

“And remember, no questions until I’m done, okay?” Cal reminds me.

I nod. “Alright.”

A gentle orange light fills my vision. It reminds me of a bonfire, warm and nostalgic. I open my mouth to ask what the hell is going on, but Cal’s words remain firm in my head. No questions.

Instead, I turn to look at him. I can’t see his eyes, but from the way his eyebrows are drawn together, I imagine they’re closed. His hands extend out in front of him, palms facing toward me. The orange glow is concentrated in his palms.

The light swirls from his fingertips, wrapping around my limbs. It’s warm where it touches me, so warm it nearly burns. But it’s a nice warmth, like a hot shower or the summer sun.

And just like that, the skies clear, and it’s no longer raining. The warmth recedes, and the light dims. Cal takes a small step back, his mouth hanging open. My eyebrows shoot up when I see tears falling down his face.

“Ah, sorry.” He wipes his face. “It’s just a side-effect.”

I clutch my head, not because it hurts, but because it doesn’t hurt anymore. I can see straight again. I don’t feel off balance. And when I look down at my wings, all the feathers are back in place, grown out to their full length.

“What the hell just happened?” I gasp.