The Girl That Could Fly

The Girl That Could Fly

Clarity can be difficult to work with, and as Silvia stared out of her economy seat window, she found it hard not to scream. Obscuring the light was the face of a demon, its features long and drawn, bones growing in sharp ridges along its face and tugging painfully at the skin. Eyes of winter blue stared piercingly back at her, blonde hair pulled long and straight by the wind, it appeared to cling onto the side of the plane. Silvia looked to the middle-aged businessman with his gut hanging out and his hair cut short in admission of loss. He stared intensely into his laptop screen as he played cards. Silvia searched around to see if anyone else had seen, then fearfully returned her gaze to the window.

Her heat pounded and she shrank back in her seat as the creature smiled revealing almost human teeth, before it swooped away. Silvia stared unblinking as the creature landed on the wing. She could see now the bony wings with an almost transparent lace-like tissue covering them. The creature ducked and dived clearly enjoying the velocity of the wind, when suddenly it pulled its wings in tight and dove into the sky.

Silvia stared after the demon for a second as the creature faded like a lost helium balloon, until she couldn't be sure what was and what wasn't. The fat man beside her never looked up from his screen, and with a shiver Silvia stared out into the sun.

Two weeks previously.

The weather had finally turned warm, and Lucy looked out of her bedroom window with a frown. The sky was cloudless, a perfect April day, warm and beckoning. She brushed at her blonde hair, enjoying its silky feel before pulling the strands into a thick ponytail. She applied her makeup carefully, trying to conceal the altering shape of her face. Finally satisfied that she had covered as much as possible, she turned at an angle to the mirror and watched as she unfurled the growing wings from her back.

The bone structure was dark, in stark contrast to her Scandinavian colouring. Translucent skin was intertwining around the bones, binding them together, sealing them in and nourishing them with red tendrils. Lucy stretched them out, clearly amazed at her twelve-foot wingspan.

"Lucy, you ready for school yet? her mum called up the stairs.

Lucy's cheeks pinked, like she'd been caught doing something naughty and collapsed her wings. She put on her school shirt, pulling it tight to button it, then shrugged on her winter coat. She took one last look in the mirror, twisting her face from side to side as she examined the new contours. With a sigh, she pulled out the hair band, allowing her hair to fall around her face.

With shadows on her skin, and her jacket already making her hot in the spring air, she left for school.

Two weeks previously.

"Goddamn-it! Lucy swore as she twisted her arms behind her in an effort to scratch her back. Her skin had been unbearably itchy, like bugs had been let loose in her veins and were uncomfortable in their new home.

She felt scabs seconds too late as her fingernails grasped at the edges and pulled them off. Ignoring the slippery sensation Lucy continued to grate at her back, unable to resist a particularly irritating patch of skin. She tried throwing her arm over the top, just another few seconds before she jumped in the shower.

That was when she heard the popping sound. Like when you pull your finger out of your mouth quickly or yank a tooth from its socket. Lucy felt suddenly satisfied, before she felt a strange new sensation from behind. She stared at her face in the mirror above the sink and began turning slowly. The first thing she saw was blood weeping down her slim back, then she noticed the stumps of bone that had emerged from beside her wing bones. Her shock at seeing the blood turned to curiosity as she discovered that she could move them.

Crimson trails dribbled down the backs of her legs and soaked into the bathmat while Lucy stared wide-eyed into the mirror. She wiggled the nubs with growing confidence, her expression sitting somewhere between horrified and amazed. She scratched absentmindedly at her face as she wiggled her new appendages.

Two weeks previously.

Lucy's bedroom had that thick scent of sleep. The curtains ruffled in a slight breeze and Lucy tucked her feet back under the covers. She made quiet smacking sounds, and then flopped her head to the other side before settling once more.

The curtains moved, too erratically for the draught, followed by a thudding sound as something landed on the carpet. A beetle like creature emerged from under the drape of the curtain and scuttled under the bed. It climbed up the corner of the bed frame, arriving by Lucy's pillow, her hot breath making its feelers tremble. It rested for a moment before clambering up onto the pillow and then up on her exposed neck.

Lucy twitched at the creatures sharp little feet pricked her skin, but it was already at the raised contours of her backbone. It stopped, chittering its pincers, giving them a warm up before biting around the bone. Lucy stiffened in the moments before an anaesthetic spray hit her skin, numbing the area almost instantly. It held on for a long while, occasionally grasping harder as she tossed around the bed. Eventually Lucy rolled onto her back and the creature suffocated between her skin and the mattress.

In the morning, she noticed a red swelling on the back of her neck, put it down to puberty and decided to wear her hair down for a few days while she waited for the boil to go down.