Landed Wings - By Skylhur Tranqille Page 0,2
all those years ago. When I was nine, we were at the Sky Mall getting a present for mom. It was her birthday the next day. My relationship with her was easier then. When I said I wanted to sing, she would just say, “Okay honey”. I realize now that she thought I wasn't serious, that it was just a little kid's fantasy. I remember how excited I was that day. I was so excited that I didn’t even mind having to go through the scanners and scales. Scanners and scales are a part of daily life for SkyBound. If you are a certain weight, you aren't allowed to pass through Sky Mall. Because we SkyBound have so much body mass, we cannot be overweight. Being overweight is a crime resulting in your wings being stripped from you. Your BMI has to be 18.5, and no greater than 20. As a result, all of the flying population is thin. That day, we were scanned, went through the scales, and got the present. Everything was fine until it was time to leave. We jumped off the exit ramp and started flying back home. My dad is a dreamer, and when he flies, he goes somewhere else. He started flying faster and wilder, and my nine year old body and wings couldn't keep up. That’s when it became dangerous. The law says you are supposed to hook your kid to you when flying until age thirteen, because updrafts are so strong. All SkyBound have to take solo flying lessons at age thirteen and pass a test just to get a permit for solo flying – accompanied by an adult. My dad didn't believe in the harness – free range child rearing he called it. I call it just another
example of his immaturity. My dad was whooping ahead of me and I got caught in an updraft. It swept me up, farther up than I'd ever been. I tried to flap back, but I was caught. Up, up, up, higher than we were allowed to go, where the air is not as rich, where oxygen disappears, and where death is certain for a tiny nine year old girl. Even when I thought I couldn’t survive that high, I just kept going up. I was gasping for breath, frantic, my heart beating hard against my thin chest, my muscles quivering in my wings to keep them from snapping back. In the end, the draft was too strong for me. My right wing went SNAP and my tendons popped as my wings went places it's not supposed to go. I grew dizzy and felt myself screaming. I've never felt a pain like that and I almost blacked out. No one was around. My vision blurred as my brain starved for oxygen. At the last possible moment the updraft released me and I started falling to the ground, my right wing useless. Before I blacked out, with my plunging dead weight picking up speed, I could see my dad, unaware, far in the distance still swooping and flying with dizzying joy.
When I woke up, I was in the Sky Hospital, my wing back in place and slung up. Groggy, I could do little more than
whimper. A Sky patrol had seen me falling and caught me 100 feet from the ground. I could have died. The Sky Patrol had seen my dad too. While in the hospital they came to question my dad, threatening to take me away from him in low voices across the room. They didn’t take me away but my dad was charged with child abandonment and reckless behavior - his license for flying was revoked for a year. He was able to get a restricted license that only let him pick me up from school and go to the grocery store. When I asked my father if he was going to be okay not being able to fly everywhere, he just looked at me, smiling sadly.
“I was born with two legs, I’ll be fine”.
As for me, it took eight months to recover. That’s the first time I witnessed my mother’s fury. During those eight months my mom didn't look or speak to my dad. And he didn't try to speak to her – he might be a little nuts but he’s not stupid. To this day, my right wing sometimes throbs, and I feel it happening all over again. I don’t mind though, it reminds me of the promise I made to myself