No Wings To Fly

Chapter Nine

I entered the room quietly.

"Hey pill boy."

I handed her the usual. 

"Jay, I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Me too. I shouldn't have brought it up." I met her eyes that were soft and full of emotion.

"No, really. It's okay. I just don't really want to talk about it."

"Okay, Sam."

"Okay, Jay."

We both smiled a little.

I noticed that today, she had her sketchbook out again. "You gonna draw something?"

"No. In fact, I'm writing."

"Oh." I scooted closer. "What are you writing?"

"Poetry."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." She blushed. "I was never really into poetry. I'm not the kind of person who really wants to talk about their feelings, and I figured that was what poetry was sort of about. After I found out... about what I have, I kinda changed. Now, I like poetry. It is the only way I can calm myself down sometimes. You know?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "Wow. My friend draws and writes amazing poetry?"

"Well, you don't know it's amazing quite yet, although it is." She poked my shoulder playfully.

"Okay... When am I going to be able to read this masterpiece?"

"Now." Sam handed me the book. "Be warned though. It's not all cheery."

I cleared my throat and began to read it aloud.

"No Wings to Fly" I sat up straight.

"Once I was free

Not bound to the earth

The sky was the limit for me

For me

Then one thing changed

And I fell from the sky

Left broken and estranged

Estranged

Crippled on the ground

I waited forever

For me to be found

To be found

By and by

I'm just a broken angel

With no wings to fly

To fly. "

I took a deep breath and lowered my head. "It's beautiful."

I couldn't help but wonder if the things in her poem were what she had been feeling; Lonely, estranged, broken, crippled. I didn't want her to feel these things. I didn't want this sweet girl to be dying.

"Are you okay, pill boy?"

"Yeah." I sighed. "Strong poem."

Sam smiled. "Why, thank you."

We were silent for a moment. Sam was beaming while I sat there worriedly.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, Jay?"

"I'm sorry."

"Oh my gosh, Jay. I already explained to you, it's okay. I mean-"

"No." I looked out of her window. "I'm sorry about you being sick and all."

"It's okay. It's not your fault."

"How long have you been here?" I asked, eyes deadlocked upon hers.

"A year."

"Don't you ever get lonely?" 

"Yeah," She fingered her sleeve. "It's not as bad as before though... with you coming here to talk. I haven't had any friends here before. I never had anyone to talk to. If it makes you feel any better, you make it easier."

I gave her a hug without a second thought. "I gotta go... but i'll see you soon. Very soon!"

"Oh. Alright. Bye!"

"Bye, Sam."