Wings Are Made To Fly

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  • Published: 30 Jul 2013
  • Updated: 30 Jul 2013
  • Status: Complete
This is for the "Inspired by a Song" contest.

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1. Wings Are Made To Fly

“Bri! Brianna Flynn! Where are you?!” 

Jophelle, Brianna's mother, stormed up the stairs of their small house. Bri, in her bathroom, stared at what she thought was the worst thing that could ever happen to her. She faced the wall with her back to the mirror. On the cold, tiled floor, a bloody knife lays. Brianna looks at her back, scratched and bloody. Tears fall down her pale, white face and unto the floor. Even through blurred eyes, she stares at her back. Or, more accurately, the vile things sprouting from it. The things that caused her so much pain. The things that cause everyone to make fun of her. The things she hates.

Her wings.

Beautiful and strong, with a multitude of pure white feathers, now freshly stained with blood, covering them. They continue to grow. Brianna was unaware that if she tried to remove them, then they would only grow back, bigger and stronger. They are at least 3 feet wide and 2 feet tall. When they reach their full size, Brianna falls to the ground, her heart pounding, her mind questioning what to do next. She couldn't go back to school. Her wings had slipped out from under her shirt one day, and, ever since, the mortals have called her horrible things. Demon, dragon, freak. She didn't know how much more of the name calling she could take.

“Bri!”

Jophelle screams from outside of the bathroom door. Brianna bends over, crying into her arms, her wings spread out, ready to shield her from her mother's wrath. Jophelle is the angel of beauty and she helps people to think beautiful thoughts and so therefore create, manifest, and attract more beauty into the lives of those who need it. But she never knew that it would be her own child that would need her. Jophelle turns the knob of the bathroom door, bracing herself for whatever may happen.

“Brianna. My child.” Jophelle drops to her knees, staring at her daughter's marred back.

“Why?”

Jophelle begs, her sobs getting the best of her.

“Is this because of what the mortals have said?”

Brianna, her sobs overcoming her body, reluctantly nods her head.

“Why? Listen, Brianna, why waste your tears? Why waste your time? Or your life, for that matter? Why should those stupid words keep you in terror, haunting you, keeping awake at night? When you are flying, those words, you can't hear them! Not from the clouds! Whether or not you are there, they will continue! They can walk away, because you are too perfect to care. Their words mean nothing! Don't listen! Their words, they are an attempt to keep you from flying, to contain you! But they can't! These wings, your wings, they are made to fly. You can't let them bring you down! Even they say you will fall, you won't, because those wings are made to fly! You don't need them to tell you when to go. You will get there someday! Don't let them bring you down! Brianna Flynn, when you were first born, your wings sprouted from you, and the light hit them so perfectly and created a prism so majestic, I swear they looked like butterfly wings. I, of course, couldn't name you Butterfly, so I opted with your initials. B.F. Brianna Flynn. Butterfly. You are my little butterfly. So, spread your wings.” Jophelle finished, embracing her daughter.

“Bri, I want you to look at me.”

Brianna raise her head and fixes her tear-filled eyes on her mother.

“I love you, Bri.”

Brianna cracks a small smile.

“I love you, too, Mom.”

 

 

 

 

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