Forest of Imagination

I Hate Flying

Did I mention that I hate hate hate hate hate flying?

I don't get why people love the feeling of sky-diving or flying, why they describe it as "an amazing feeling, falling out of the thin air and being caught in the wind" or some other useless, exaggerated description. Sure, I have a fear of heights, so whenever I look down I have a sick feeling to my stomach that makes me want to B-A-R-F really bad, but I have a strong enough stomach for that, thankfully.

What I don't have a strong enough stomach for is flying or sky-diving. Fear of flying is completely different from fear of heights - at least, if you have a fear of flying you don't necessarily DEFINITELY have a fear of heights, but if you have a fear of heights you are bound to have a fear of flying, of course. My fear of flying is mixed in with severe acrophobia (fear of heights), but it's actually the motion that's the real meal hurler. I get a mixture of feeling like I'm going to literally pee in my pants and one that there are REAL butterflies in my stomach, not those figurative ones that exaggerate the feeling you get when you're really nervous.

MY butterflies literally flutter around, throwing my breakfast into my throat and making it all come out.

All because they want to party and chose the wrong place to do it (my tummy). Unfortunately, I'm the one who has to suffer, not those stupid, annoying butterflies who flutter around carelessly.

However, due to my rotten luck, I am now forced to fly for eternity.

Okay, maybe I exaggerated a bit there, which means I'm totally a hypocrite because I just called all those other people exaggerating. But now, I am a pure-blooded fairy, without the ability to turn into a human again just because of my beautiful pure-blooded status. Which means I am no longer a half-mermaid, which is a real disappointment because I was just getting ready to accept my tail and the facts about my past, which I accidentally witnessed thanks to the probing needle in my elbow. Speaking of which, it left a real nasty bruise where it hit me.

Also, now I know for sure that Emma Britney Porter wrote that blackmail note and left it for me.

Unfortunately for her, I'm not going to immediately go by "Kimberly" or "Kim." "Melody" is just fine by me, and so is "Mel" or any other nickname, of which there are many, you can find for "Melody."

Let me start from the beginning, how I ended up with wings and a total hair color change.

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I got up, still shaking from the ordeal I survived last night. Ryan's limp body slumped to the floor of the observatory. I felt a tad guilty for leaving him here, open as what Emma would think of as prey, but then I reminded I had to get werewolf Katie to help me, no matter her current state.

Emma had thrown a needle at us, this time the correct needle. It hit Ryan, and when Emma tried to hit me, she was all out of them already. But she cast a strange spell - I could barely remember the words - on me before she left, and that was when my back started aching A LOT. I'd just figured she'd put a paining spell on me, so I tried to live with the pain and sleep.

And then I noticed my hair was a little darker. I decided this was just a trick of the sun, a mirage, so I let the vague idea I was thinking in my head brush past me and waited until the sun was brighter.

Now it had to be at least seven o' clock. I crept to the lift, just in case Emma was still within earshot, and saw something strange on the ground. I picked it up cautiously with my right hand while my left index finger drifted to the "8" button and pushed it slowly. I brought my hand to my chest so I could observe the object, and in my surprise, I quickly dropped it.