placebo's machine

Fly 10

Fly

Who was she?

All she could feel was blood trickling down her temple, fear and pain all over her body.

Her vision was quite blurry, she noted.

But there was someone in white standing over her. A hand reached for her- and she skittered away, crawling.

There were wings on her back, she realized.

Was she an angel?

Could she fly?

Looking up, she saw light. The sky? Or was she dying?

She stood, wobbling, the walls seeming to fracture off. Shaking her head, she realized it was because they were all glass, reflecting the light from the top.

There were people up in the sky, she realized. Not flying, but they were being carried by something.

A large, metal hand.

Many of them.

One came close to her, and she sidestepped it, jumping away almost on instinct.

She didn’t know anything. She didn’t know where she was. All she could trust was her instincts, and they told her to get out of there and fly far away.

Her wings, she realized, were metal. But there were undoubtedly feathers on the end, and white light seemed to glow around her.

Or maybe her eyes were still unfocused.

Another metal hand ghosted by her, and she slipped through it’s grasp. More of the white figures were heading towards her.

She had to fly. Now.

It almost seemed to come unconsciously to her, and her bare feet had left the ground before she’d realized it. She swerved to avoid more metal claws, shuddering when the hair of their loads brushed her legs.

Only one of them was awake, and his head tilted to look at her. “Eva-” he managed to get out before she brushed past him and he was out of her hearing range.

Eva. Was that her name? Or was there more to it?

She picked up speed and crashed into the light, realizing too late that it was glass, before it splintered into a million tiny pieces and released the avalanche of snow it had been holding. Cold air prickled at her skin, stinging the tiny cuts the glass had given her all over her face and arms. More snow rushed into her eyes, almost blinding her. She tilted in the wind, being spun in a circle.

Where could she go?

Off in the horizon laid a dark stain, reaching jaggedly into the sky. Mountains? She flew towards them, thinking that there might be a cave where she could take shelter.

The thought of sheltering in a cave pricked at her heart, making her think of damp soot and dry leaves. Had she slept in a cave before?

She flew towards the mountains, but their sides were smooth and without and pockmarks to stay in. She slid a foot down the slope of one peak, and watched as a small pile of black snow built up over her white toes.

She was cold.

She flew higher, looking for a place to go. But all around was white, white, white. So smooth.

No place for her.

No place for an angel.

So she flew as long and far as she could, each stroke her wings made feeling heavier and heavier. Her body wasn’t cold. No, she felt like she was burning up.

Snow was matted into her hair, and crusted over her dress. Her toes were clenched so tightly she wondered if they would ever open again.

On the horizon, she saw lights.

Small, yellow lights, crowded on the ground.

A city?

She flew faster, ignoring the wind trying to blow her off course. She stretched her hands in front of her, trying to grab at the town, glowing with promise at the edge of her vision.

With a screech, her left wing stopped working.

Ice dripped from it in spears, and the hinges were stuck in a curved position. She flapped it hard and gained leverage for a few seconds, but it stopped again.

She tumbled over and over in the air, red hair flying into her face. The wind blew her around, and all she could do was keep clawing at the air with her right wing.

She grabbed part of the left wing with her hand and forced it into a gliding position. Slowly, with the wind finally cooperating, she eased towards the lights.

When they seemed only a few meters from her grasp, both wings shuddered to a halt.

She spiraled down, somehow managing to avoid a large, dark building and, finally, crashing into snow and sand on the edge of the tarmac.

Her eyes slowly closed, and the snow settled over her still form.