Landed Wings - By Skylhur Tranqille Page 0,14

call Sky Patrol, I’d be glad to talk to them about why I’m so disrespectful.”

With that, I walk out the door, snap my wings open and fly, leaving her staring out at me, coffee spilling on the floor, brown blood against white tile.

Later, at school, the shock of what I’d said hit me. I didn’t feel bad, more amazed and surprised that I’d had the courage to say it. It had taken me fourteen years. My mother is evil, there was no doubt about that. She had tried to feed me memory pills after each torture, but I never swallowed them. They are usually used to help people recover from traumatic events, making what happened less real and more dreamlike in your memory. They had tried to give me them after the updraft incident too, but I didn’t take them then either. It never occurred to me to tell on my mother. I realize that I never asked my mother about what Mocha said. I don’t know why I couldn’t bring myself to ask my mother – probably because I was so upset, I completely forgot about asking her. I’m going back down again. I know it’s dangerous and illegal, but I can’t resist. I can hear the call, taunting and tantalizing, urging me to fly below. There’s something there I need to figure out. I feel like I might be able to help - maybe do something important.

Chapter 8: ENEMIES

MOCHA

“I can feel her. She’s coming.”

Ginger smiles.

“Good.”

ASHLYNN

I fly down at two this time, and to another place. My mother wasn’t home when I got back and I never heard her come in. They didn’t activate the alarm so I just walked out – that was a first but then again, the conversation I had with my mother was a first. It is beautiful out this time at night. The air is slightly cool and the clouds hang heavy and fat above me. The sky is colored a dark blue, with a light band of purple acting as a background to the clouds. It turned what could have been a slightly menacing appearance to one that is breathtakingly beautiful. I fly around lightly drifting in and out the currents. It feels good and helps relieve the tension in my back. I fly up through a cloud, condensation making my wings instantly heavy. As before, I feel a tingle on the spot just below my hairline. I am starting to think it is some nervous thing. I don’t even know why I’m here – I don’t even like coming down here. I pause midair to review my last thought. If I don’t like coming down here, then why am I here? I want to go back and think about this more, but some voice in the back of my head tells me it’s okay and to go on. The tingle continues to grow. So despite my feelings, I’m flying down anyway. I don’t want to be too predictable so I’m flying in from a different angle tonight. I want a chance at spotting Mocha before he spots me. I touch down, and this time I fold my wings through the slits in my shirt even though it leaves me more vulnerable. The way the shirts are designed makes it easy to snap my wings out and fly. Even so, I’m not too worried though. I make my way, cautiously, to the place I last saw Mocha …I hope it is the right place anyway. There is a door in this alley, one I hadn’t seen before. It opens, the smell of vomit and ale comes with the light that spills out. I watch Mocha come out, yelling at someone behind him. He laughs and walks forward, closing the door behind him. When he opened the door, he had seemed drunk, but now he looks sharp and alert. I’ve never seen someone act as strangely as he does. I wait for the right moment to make my move. As I stalk forward - he stiffens like he can sense me here. I don’t have any more time to waste. I grab him and jerk him back into the darkness. I pin him to the floor. This takes about five seconds, and he is clearly surprised. I am on top of him with my forearm against this throat so even while he tries to get up he knows I have the upper hand. He may be more than he seems, but I’m not crystal