Odd One Out

"Good things come to those who wait."
How much longer do I have to wait?

Iris is different. She wants more. She wants to be free.
She wants love.
But no one understands her. Her only escape is through music.
She's the Odd One Out.
And then, she meets Blake...

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2. A Beautiful Pain

Dear Love,

There's one thing I've learnt from life. I'm a feather.

The other people, all the other kids, they're birds.

They're flying, loving life, soaring.

I'm alone. I've been left. Dropped.

I'm just a reminder that just when you think everything's okay, and life's brilliant,

You can still make mistakes.

You can still fall.

A feather. I say it out loud.

"Feather."

I am a feather.

Well, Love, all I'm asking of you is that...

Maybe you could fix me?

Maybe you could give me wings.

Maybe you could give me...

Hope.

Love, please give me hope?

Yours,

Iris x

 

The clouds are crying outside. I pull myself up to my bedroom window, and let my fingers follow a raindrop down the glass. It's dark. It's late. The lamplights struggle to flicker it's light down the damp street.

"Iris?"

It's Dad. I quickly draw the curtains shut, and roll under my duvet cover.

"Iris, I know you're awake."

I don't move. I hold myself still. Maybe, I think, he'll go away if I pretend to sleep.

"Iris."

I sigh, and let Dad's arms pull the covers away.

"Morning, Dad," I half-whisper. He smiles, stroking my cheek.

"Morning," He chuckles. His calloused finger tips tap the old alarm clock holding itself up on my bedside table. "Two in the morning. Can't sleep, eh?"

I shake my head, running my fingers through my tangled curls.

"I don't want to go to sleep."

"Why not? Is something bothering you?" He asks softly.

I shake my head again. He presses his lips together, rubbing his stubble with the back of his hand.

"Do you promise?"

I don't reply. My eyes are distant. Dad watches me, searching for something.

There's a long silence. I can hear a lonely bird on the other side of the window, singing for something. Or someone.

"Dad?" I start.

"Yes, I'm here," He replies. I can hear his voice, but I can't see him. The darkness of my room has swallowed him.

"What does it feel like to be in love?"

He's silent. I start to believe that he's not going to answer, so I let my eyes flutter shut against my pillow.

The noise of footsteps fade away towards the door.

Just as I'm about to drift to sleep, I hear his voice.

"It's like a beautiful pain."

 

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