Wings in Alabama

Chapter 1

My feet pounded against the hard, cold cement road. I didn't know why I was barefoot, or why I was in a white jumpsuit. All I knew, was I had to get out of here. A sharp pebble embedded itself at the bottom of my foot. I winced in pain and fell back a little. But I couldn't stop now. Again, I didn't know why.

I trailed behind a group of kids, varying from my age, to older, to younger. They ran faster than me, and none looked back. The angry mob fell closer. Their shouts grew louder, and a large black truck that might have been a hearse drives in front of the mob. Strong hands jump from out of the side and catch the stragglers.

Suddenly, a boy with black hair, younger than me, yells something. A cliff edge comes into view. A few of the kids stop, deciding that the fate that awaits them in the hands of whoever is in charge of the mob is better than death.

I run faster, causing me to lose more breath. The mass of escaping children disappears, and I'm all alone. You would have thought that the mob wouldn't have picked just one kid out to take back with them, right? But the shouts and screams of the strange people press closer to me.

Like a car that's just had its tank filled up with gas, I suddenly shot forward, running faster, yet barely losing any breath. My feet skid to a halt before I run straight off the cliff edge.

Strands of my long blonde hair whipped in the wind as I turn my head. The mob nears. I'm stuck between the awful fate that I would give to the horrible people that probably want to kill me and certain death. I pondered my options, quickly. I was running out of time.

The glint of a knife and the point of a pitchfork helps me make up my mind. I jump. I thought it would feel like such a rush, but it's slow, and my hair seems to want to touch the pink dawn sky.

Then, like hitting the "pause" button on a remote, my dream freezes. I'm stuck in midair, and the mob is posed over the cliff edge with upset and mad faces. A familiar voice breaks the silence. "Ry! Ry-Ry, hurry! Mom said she'd leave for Alabama without you if you didn't get up right now!"

My eyes flash open, leaving the nightmare behind in a field of memories. Emily, my little pain-in-the-butt (I mean sister) leans over my face. She tells me, or almost yells, to hurry it up. I wasn't too sure what "it" was as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes with my fists. Once I was fully awake, the real world rushed into my brain and I gave my sister an annoyed look.

"Emily, I swear, if you ever pull something like that again, I'l soooo kill you."

"What and why?" She asks me innocently.

"Well, for starters, A: it's Saturday, B: it's five in the morning, and C: we don't visit aunt Kat and uncle Mike for another week."

"Exactly!" She says, shaking her fists in the air and giving me an annoyed look, using the same impression I gave her a few seconds ago. It was like she was saying that there was an obvious reason she woke me up on Saturday at 5:00 a.m. to try and get me up. "You gotta help me pack."

I groaned, turned onto my belly, and shoved my face into a fluffy throw pillow. Emily said something else, but I waved her away with a hand. I heard a grumpy huff before footsteps left the room.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips and I tried to go back to sleep. Caught up in my sleepy happiness, I didn't hear Emily's approaching footsteps. I'm pretty sure I was almost asleep when something cold and wet sloshed it's way onto my fluffy PJ's and soft blue covers.

I sat up immediatly, shrieking and shaking water everywhere as I flailed in my damp bed. I squeezed water out of my top and glared at a smug little Emily. She set her pink and green sand-castle bucket on my bedside table. I saw water droplets hanging off of the rim. She smiled in my direction and folded her arms. "Now will you help me?"

I threw my soggy purple pillow at Emily's face and groaned. She stepped to the side, making me groan louder. The little smart-alec shrugged, walked out of the room and down the hallway, taking the bucket with her.

I sat on my bed, confused, till I heard her turn on the faucet in her bathroom. Water sloshing in the bucket sounded like a threat to me.

"No!" I whispered loudly, making sure she heard. She poked her head out of the bathroom and grinned. "Sucker," she whispered, and skipped down the hallway to her room.