Human Feathers: Black and White

Chapter 3: Just The Beginning

Damien lifted his head and spit out a piece of a dead leaf. His head was fuzzy and exhausted, even though his body was invigorated to the point he could kill someone. But this state of unawareness soon faded with the realization of what happened. He quickly regained his bearings and scrambled to his feet, in panic. His eyes flew every which way in search of his father, and then he found him, knocked cold in the middle of the lawn.

“Dad!” Damien yelled and ran up to John, grabbing him by the arm as he grumbled back to consciousness.

“Damien!” John gasped, grabbing Damien into a hug as soon as he could think. “What happened? What’s going on?”

Damien was too dumbstruck to reply. He was also too busy thinking about the whole experience. His head was spinning, and he felt restless.

“Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” John pulled away and stared at his son as if he was beginning to recall what happened, but it was clear that, not only could John not see him –which added to the half-awake look of confusion on his face -but he probably couldn’t concentrate on anything in particular at the moment. The men must have hit him hard. He was lucky to still remember anything.

Damien continued to look blankly at his father. A feeling about this event was making his stomach throb, like he could throw up. It was like the thrill experienced when a rollercoaster is climbing the first slope; the anticipation of something so big, it’s unimaginable. Damien knew he had no choice but to say goodbye. It didn’t seem like the bearded man was going to let him slip away. This conflict that man described was a war, or at least, it sounded like one. Damien hadn’t ever heard of such a war, though. But why would a man kidnap him in the way he did if it were some big game? In deep thought, Damien looked at his father’s beaten, tired face. He slowly built up his courage in order to do what his gut was saying was right; that was, to say goodbye and not to worry, and that he wasn’t in any danger. He opened his mouth and took a deep breath.

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about,” Damien lied. “You tripped and landed hard on your face while you were chasing me.” He bit his lip and started to let out his breath slowly.

John blinked a few times as he stood there, thinking. “That’s funny. I could have sworn someone else was involved…”

“I ran back to help you after you didn’t get up,” Damien felt bad for lying, but he couldn’t admit what was really going to happen. Not to his parents. They would never understand. As far as he knew, telling them would make the problem bigger than it needed to be. Besides, they’d had enough to deal with in one day.

John sighed long and loud. “Son,” he began. “Look…. About your w-”

“I don’t think you should get my wings removed,” Damien blurted.

John frowned. “Dan…”

“I’m not about to die,” he stated simply. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

John sighed again. “Just come inside. We’ll talk about this later."

As John turned around, mumbling about the loss of his glasses, Damien quietly let out the rest of his breath in relief, unsure of himself. He continued to rationalize his choice as he followed his father into the house.

And that’s when he remembered Rebecca. A shot of regret ran through him, as if he needed a little more guilt. He’d wanted to know Rebecca, but now that he was being forced away for who knows how long to do something he just didn’t want to do, it seemed like it would never happen. Damien grunted under his breath. His annoying sense of propriety trumped his personal judgments too often, and it bothered him, but not enough to make him hide from some angry person with a beard that needed him to fight in a war that wasn’t really his problem…