Dark Destinies- Clare Siobhan (Fanfiction) Magical Generation

Chapter Fourteen- Strings

"Little bird, little bird,"

The world I live in is one of flightless birds and shriveled leaves. Small baby doves rest and cuddle in their nests as they await the day their mother proudly watches freedom in her young ones' wings.  

"...teach me how to fly.  Flightless bird, crying bird,"

The world I live in is one without colour. It's as cold and lonely as the surface of the moon.  I'm still waiting for my first flight.  Still waiting with a fading patience, but still afraid.  How can I be so desperate for something I'm so afraid of?

"...this isn't goodbye."  The boy's voice beams the melody to life as the falsetto reaches its peak, the tone as delicate as a feather.  He holds the note, singing into the darkness.

Or is it perhaps that I was taught to be afraid?

His thick hair moves with his sways to the chords and quick fiddles of the strings. On the wooden ledge next to him lays sheets of paper with jottings of spotted notes and lyrics. The lines were written by a person with their heart at hand; passionate scribbles.  The Earth let's out a sigh as the curing tunes resonate through the landscape, returning a gentle breeze from nature.  Swelling into the room through the open window, the sheets flutter along with the poppy flowers displayed with long thin stems in the glistening glass vase. 

"Falling from the sky, watch you fade, watch you cry," Vireo honeyed the lyrics of a long lost love, threading the words into a story untold.

"But it was you, my sweet bird, who taught me how to fly."

Since birth, the presence of death had wrapped its vines around him.  Even in his sleep, Vireo can hear the Grim Reaper knocking at his door, beckoning just a peak; just a whiff; just a taste.

Looking up, the moon's pale glow radiates his face as he closes his eyes, finding his oasis within the strumming of his music.  Like drinking water in a heated dessert, the words escape his throat like the first sip of clear water after a parched journey.  Hiding his soul from the world, his slits remain closed, banning the sounds that scream louder than bombs in his mind.  The moon stares down patiently, watching as Vireo stirs his expression, a faint smile on his moving lips.  The freckles sprout on his cheeks and nose look like angel tears that cried for him as they watch his life bloom into a poisonous thorn.  

As the angels weep, he feels the vibrations against his fingertips move him forward in this journey called life.

"Vireo?"  Hearing the familiar voice, his fingers lose feeling and his eyes open at the start.  The moon's light outshines the darkness surrounding him.  His clutch on the guitar loosens and it falls on his lap as his body turns to face his mother's dominant presence.  Her arms are crossed as her eyes prick his own like sharp pins.  "What do you think you're doing?  I thought I told you to-"

"Practice," he finishes for her.  "I was, it just got repetitive and I wanted a break,"

"For how long?"

The boy shifts his orbs to look at the ceiling, feeling his tongue click in his mouth against his gum.  After a decisive shrug, he spins his entire body to the room and lands his feet onto the wooden floor-planks, the sound coming cautiously yet with no regrets.  Raven narrows her eyes as they observe him collecting the papers in an indifferent fashion.

"We've spoken about this, you need to keep casting spells,"

"I did though," he insists, averting his eyes from hers as his hands continuously shuffle the disarray of sheets.  The notes on them tremble as Raven steps toward him and snatches the papers from him in one slice.  "Wait-"