To Fly Or Not To Fly?

Chapter 1 - Cornfield

I looked out into the impenetrable gloom that surrounded me. Nothing could be heard but the slow, regular sounds of breathing that came from my companions. The familiar smell of hay and dew filled my nose and helped me to relax.

Then I heard what I had been waiting for, a door opening, a cry of a voice, and rapid footsteps coming along down a stony concrete path. As the footsteps came closer, I held my breath, bracing myself for escape. Light suddenly filtered into the room, reaching every corner and illuminating my path. I suddenly ran towards my newly-made entrance and launched myself into the air with an enthusiastic jump.

As I spread my wings, I got the same breath-taking feeling that I had had thousands of times before. I swerved upwards, and closed my eyes as I let the morning sun warm my feathers.

A familiar whistle reached my ears. I continued forward for a moment, holding onto the joyous feeling that had captivated me before going into a dive. I gracefully landed on the ground where seeds had already been scattered, and quickly get to work on filling my empty stomach. As I ate, a cocky young male with a deep green neck and jet black tale strode up to me.

“Well Gemma, are you coming down to the corn field with us?” He asked, his eyes gleaming with their usual mischievous look.

“I’m sorry Max, but I don’t feel like going down there today. I might go with you tomorrow.” I replied. I wasn’t willing to tell anyone, but I was afraid of the corn field. Rumours had circulated that pigeons would go there, never to return again. I wasn’t one to believe in such nonsense, but I wasn’t one to take chances either.

“Oh please come!” pleaded Alisa. “You never go down there.”

“She’s too scared, she would never come.” challenged Max, a big smile stealing over his face.

I sighed; I did not like people getting the better of me. “I’ll come.” I said at last, letting my pride take over my instinct. “When are we going?”

“Why wait?” he replied, and took off before I could object.

“Well come on!” shouted Alisa, and she too followed after Max.

Reluctantly, I followed. As I climbed higher and higher into the sky, I felt happy at heart. Why was I getting stressed out when there was nothing to worry about? Everything would be fine. I climbed higher and higher, losing myself in my thoughts until a high pitched squawk from behind me brought me back to reality.

I turned my head to see where the noise was coming from, and saw four more pigeons behind me. I knew most of them. Harley was the biggest of them all with a barrelled chest and long wings. He was flying beside his mate, Lula, who was significantly smaller with wide eyes that stared curiously at everything they saw. Then there was Jacob, the oldest out of the seven of us, who, in his old age, was turning grey. And finally there was Luke, a medium-sized, average-intelligence, no-one-cares-about-pigeon who had never really found his place in the flock.

As we flew, a strong gust of wing carrying the scent of fresh corn swirled around me, provoking my hunger and reminding me of my half full stomach still awaiting its morning fill. I took a strong downward blow with my wings as I flew in something near to a straight line. I looked out into the distance and saw a large mass of yellow corn, glistening in the morning light. I seemed to forget myself as I hurtled towards it at full speed, wings a blur and breathing rapidly.

As I loomed ever closer to this sanctuary of food, I remembered that poor old Jacob was probably in no fit state to go racing after me, so I arched my wings and came to an abrupt stop in mid-air. The blurry outline of Max swooped past me, followed by Alisa, Harley and Lula at the end.

I looked behind me to see Jacob and Luke a few metres behind. Once they had caught up I flew besides them. My instinct urged me to go on, fast as I could, going with the wind in a graceful dance, but at the same time, telling me to go back, to leave this place. There was danger, I could feel it in my gut, but I wasn’t going to back out now. I flew on, hoping for once that my gut was wrong.

In a few minutes, I was flying over the fields, smelling the air for any sign of danger. When none came, I swerved into a gentle dive, getting closer and closer to my goal. But then I saw it, I giant person standing in the field with red and blue skin and a yellow face, straw covering his head.

I gave a warning “Squawk!” and began to fly away, until I heard Max laughing his head off behind me. I stopped and turned to him, something was up.

“You don’t honestly believe that ‘thing’ is real do you?” mocked Max, smirking as he spoke.

“What do you mean it’s not real?” I retorted.

“It’s fake, full of hay. Good for nothing if you ask me.”

“Well then, what is it?”

“It’s a rouwhee*.” he explained.

“Oh,” I said, trying to make it sound as if I had known this all along.

“I don’t know about you but I’m hungry.” interjected Alisa. “What are we just flying around for, let’s eat!” and with that she arched her wings and dived to the ground, landed quietly, and began to eat.

As no danger came, I followed her example and landed next to her and began to nibble on the nearest piece of corn. It tasted good, really good, probably the best sensation my taste buds had ever experienced. As I continued to feed, the others joined me, and before long, everyone was happily eating away at the corn.

I thought about how unnatural the corn was, all growing in long straight rows. Just to prove my point, I looked down one of the rows and saw a short stretch of grass with a bush beyond. Just as I was about to return to feeding, I saw a big, dark brown object move into view. I locked my muscles, wondering what this brown object was and whether it was dangerous. Then another one came into view, followed by a long body with red and blue skin. I relaxed, it was only a rouwhee. I returned to feeding.

“FLY!” shrieked a terrified voice from behind me. I didn’t have to guess to know it was Max.

“What?” I said, turning to him. “Scared of a rouwhee are we?”

“It’s a Lincel*!” he cried. The smile dropped from my face. Everyone knew what a Lincel was. And although they sometimes help up, they would also sometimes kill us! Instinct drove me off the ground and into the air. The sound that followed was like lightning and it chilled me to the core. The Lincel was holding a long slender brown stick, but somehow, it had created an ear-splitting heart-stopping sound. The sound of death.

A sorrowful cawing echoed around the empty space, as a large crow with blood splattered across his breast fell down to the hard ground.

As all seven of us flew as fast as we could, I was sure of two things.

One, the crow was dead.

Two, I was never going back there again.