Skye Evans.

Getting Better.

      Today will be the day.

      That's what she repeated to herself all morning and all afternoon, up until this moment. Standing on a shifting cloud, staring at the open skies. Her wings tucked together, but unbandaged. After three months now, of them being broken, a doctor had given her the go ahead to try some physical therapy. 'Course, the actual appointment wasn't until the evening. But man, was she impatient. A fatal flaw of hers, but that wasn't something she would tackle today. 
      Around a thousand feet below was another cloud. Just in case. That's why she chose this spot, after all. Secluded, but close enough to the city. Bright, with a light wind. Good for flight and keeping her afloat, and providing some sort of a challenge, but not too much to wipe her away, carrying her away, following the will of the sky.
      The skies and her. She knew it as it knew her. It was in the name, after all. 

      Shorter hair was better for flight. That's why she cut it so often. But given she was unable to, she finally let it continue to grow. It neared her shoulders now. Perhaps she would continue to let it do so, just for a while. It felt nice, it reminded her of her mother. She smiled, running fingers through her hair, and slowly spread them. Her wings. 
      Lord, were they sore. A slight wince could be heard, and many cracks. Painful for a short while, but relieving afterward. Thankfully those weren't the bones refracturing all over again, and all the patience she had kept would be rendered useless. Someone would die that day, if that happened, and it wouldn't be her. 

      Every muscle in her body itched with anticipation, to jump straight into the air. But she knew better, and didn't want to risk anything. When it came to her wings, she would be careful. The feelings of shame and disappointment in herself, the hours of crying in her dorm room, of the twitching pain. All of that was behind her in this moment. 
      The first movement was cautious, a gentle flap. It should've been easy. Even when she was a baby, she did it so easily.

      She couldn't do it.

      No, no, you must be joking, she told herself, trying to force the wings down. But they would not bend. The only thing that came was pain. After all these months, she.. still.. couldn't do it?

      No...

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      She thought she was getting better.

      She thought that, after a year, where happiness had seemed unattainable without the use of her prescribed pills, there finally existed a light at the end of the tunnel. 

      The past days had been good. She saw her friends more often, hung out more often. Experienced smiles and laughs that actually felt genuine. Battles had to be fought, just like last year, but they weren't awful. She had the strength to defend herself, despite the injuries. 
      So, one day, she didn't take the pills. Thought that just maybe, this streak will continue without the use of artificial chemicals. Everything was the same outside. But she wasn't.
      Rain poured on her on such a sunny day, fog clouded her eyes on a clear sky, all of her being felt as though a thousand storms weighed upon it. Just as it did before she got the diagnosis.

      When would she feel again?

                                                         •༄──────✧༄✦༄✧──────༄•

      Three people died yesterday. Torn apart, stabbed, killed by a corrupted girl. 

      If it wasn't Skye who did it, why did it feel so terrible? Yeah, she saved someone. That annoying seawing that just refused to get off her ass. So what? Because a year ago, nearly at the same time, it could've been her who killed someone. If the corruption was just a little stronger, if her attacks hit a little too well. Blood would've stained her hands.

      For a long time, she tried to ignore it, even when Hibiscus told her the truth. But it stalked in the back of her mind, telling her all sorts of things. Of how much she did, the pain she caused, the injuries that she did. It wasn't her fault, a more reasonable part of her tried to argue. But it was. Why didn't she try to fight it better? Why didn't she take control? Why did she stay locked away, watching through her eyes like a movie screen, unable to do anything?