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Partially winged


Post dedicated to ease my feeling of silliness whenever I spot my short stories rotting away in my documents folder. Self? This is for you...

The person talking was being fairly enthusiastic. Making eye contact with everyone, throwing in a few hand gestures. J felt intimidating in the corner he’s chosen years ago. His spot stayed the same, even if the room changed. But everyone knew that if he wanted to, J could make that corner centre stage.

This time though, J wasn’t even listening properly. His mind was far away, and the voice was distant. The dark room felt like home. A temporary, imaginary shelter, and he knew it, vaguely. But it felt like home. It felt like staying up, living in his namesake just waiting for his dad to come home. He was always so late, and then the key would turn…

“…Obviously trying to…” It was a room again. J looked around, suddenly self-conscious, to see if anyone had noticed his daydream. Nobody. He settled back down to listen. “… And force us to…”

“Go to school. Now!” His mother was adamant, hands on hips, doing her best to give her son an education he didn’t want. “And if I hear so much as a whisper about you cheating or pranking the teachers again, you’ll regret it, mister.”

So different from his father. Never once did she sound disappointed with him being her son. Not once…

“…They can’t do this…”

“The laws of science just don’t allow it.” The familiar voice sounded so clear… The only teacher who really tried…

“And who made those laws? Why can’t we just change them?” His own arrogant, naïve little voice.

After school, just the two of them trying to understand each other so they could explain better. “Because nature isn’t something we can control.” The stuffy room…

“…They can bully us…”

On the ground, smirking at the bigger figure looking embarrassed for pushing with his hands. “What’s the matter? Can’t think properly?” The anger on the boy’s face wasn’t enough. He lowered his voice, which oozed superiority. “No brain. Bet you get that from your crazy mother.”

And then making him agree, insult his own family, because his mental shield wasn’t strong enough. The fury in his eyes… The humiliation…

“We have to…”

“Fight back! We can’t let them get away with this! They’re just going to keep pushing us down until we fight back!” Nobody in that room agreed with him. All silent. Silence that rang through hundreds of years. “We have to…”

“Fight! And we will strike them where it hurts most…”

“I don’t want to lose you.” Cadaver’s green eyes looked into his soul, making him listen. “You’re the only family…”

“…I have left! You can’t!” Crying. All that pain… A flood. Not that memory! Not that one! “Please!

He blinked, gasped, horrified at the hand on his arm. Beside him, Raoul frowned in concern. “You ok, mate? You look ill…”

“But don’t worry, we’ll take care of you. Dean’ll even make you a hot drink. Won’t you, Dean?” And his brother looked up from the corner, confused.

He took earphones out before asking, “You talking about me?”

J choked, “I…”

“I have to get out of here!” His bewildered friend frowned back at him as he retreated to nowhere.

“What’s wrong? Tell me, what’s wrong?” A voice. Raoul’s? No. Maybe. Everything was echoing…

“I’m sorry, I can’t… I just can’t…” He panicked, teleported to anywhere as soon as he felt it in his pocket.

The light swam for a moment and the cold concrete hit him right in the face. For a moment, he didn’t move, waiting for the nausea in his stomach to go. It didn’t. It just stayed, making it harder for him to heave himself to sit up against the wall.


Just perhaps it was time for a vacation.

Maybe now this is on LJ I'll start writing more. Even faster if any passer by throws a prompt/makes a request! ;D!


Partially winged

January 2010

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