Torn Wings

Tessa only wants to be able to live her life to the fullest, but due to the savage discrimination that runs society, she instead begins the journey to clear her race's name.

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1. Freeing the Heart

According to the law, I wasn’t allowed to do this. As I took another tentative step towards the edge, the wind picked up and gusted against me as if willing me to stay on the ground, my prison.

I looked down over the edge and saw what would’ve been a staggering drop had I not been, well, me. I looked out and drank in the sight of the great sun setting over the desert land, highlighting my path to freedom.

I slid my bulky jacket off my shoulders and let it fly loose in the wind. I slowly stretched out my wings, feeling the fresh air ruffle my feathers for the first time in far too long. Looking out either side, the speckled brown, white, and black feathers that I knew to be mine greeted me.

I began to wonder, is this right? Should I risk it? Fortunately, I didn’t have to make up my mind as the wind picked me up from my back and hurled me off the cliff. As I felt the longed for feeling of flight, all traces of doubt fled my mind as joy filled up within me. Is it possible to explode from sheer happiness? I felt that if it was, I would surely be obliterated. Tears ran down my face as laughter escaped my lips. Nothing could’ve ruined my jubilee. Scratch that, nothing could’ve ruined my jubilee but one thing. Of course, with my luck, that one thing happened to be completely unavoidable. Lucky me. As expected, I heard the ping of the chip and a female robotic voice commanded, “Return to base. Immediately.

“Like that’s gonna happen,” I snorted as I sped up the pace of my flight. There was no way that I was going to fly away and then turn right back around to be punished for it. No way, Jose.

I glared angrily at the tiny chip that was imbedded under a thin layer of skin just below the elbow as it repeated itself. I lowered myself to the ground and achieved a rather ungraceful landing that resulted in a scraped knee. As I heard the chip chirp again, I glanced around for a suitable object. I picked up a sharp-ish sandstone, “Well, here goes nothing,” as I bashed/scraped my arm with it. “Son of a WESLEY! That hurt so bad,” I yelped as I danced around trying in vain to stop the pain. “There were probably a million better ways to do that!” I half yelled at myself. “Okay, I can do this, I can do this,” I whispered to myself before I reached in my newly acquired wound and pulled out the chip and smashed it to bits with my handy-dandy rock. “Haha!” My triumph overshadowed my pain even if for a moment.

I heard the dreaded noise of the helicopters in the distance. My excitement at the chip’s destruction faded quickly. Fear shot through me and left my breath short. “Not out of the woods yet,” I told myself as I jumped into a low glide.

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