Feathers

Wake Up

Wake Up

“WAKE UP WAKE UP” the bell on the intercom seemed to call in the crisp, dark morning. The students slid from the covers of their beds, eyes startled at the sudden lights that turned on precisely at five, as if waking up from a life spent in a pitch black world. Peter stretched his arms and legs, glad to be able to see where he was going but being eerily reminded of the lights from his childhood spent in an unkempt hospital bed. The silence in the room enhanced the buzzing electricity through the light bulbs of the decrepit building. The light brought out the drowsiness in his eyes.

He’d shivered through the night, the covers having been taken up to become Lucy’s cocoon, though even if she’d shared, not much would have been left for Peter. He’d spent the night with one arm hanging off the bed with a foot to keep it company, and the other arm slept, pained, underneath Lucy and her covers. It took him several minutes to regain feeling in it, and then several more to get the stabbing pins and needles out. Disoriented, it took a while for Peter to remember what he was doing. He fumbled with his suitcase zipper, finally opening it and removing his toiletries. He took his pills, and then York told him that no one was using the shower if he wanted to take one.

As the warm water ran across his body, Peter broke down. He hadn’t spent the night away from home since he’d been to live with Mrs. Carlson. He’d been able to deal with the unfamiliar bed, somehow, but waking up in a foreign place had a much bigger meaning than falling asleep in one. He missed her already. Tears and steam condensed on his cheeks to create a salty mixture in which it was impossible to determine one from the other.

All Peter could think about was leaving the wretched place. So that’s what he decided to do. He quickly shoved himself into his uniform and promptly left the dorm, hair still dripping, leaving behind confused roommates. As soon as he met the morning air, he broke into a sprint, trying to run away as quickly as he could.

He crossed the threshold of the open gate and it was as if he were shot by a thousand bullets yet still lived. His legs collapsed, giving way to the searing pain that shuddered throughout his entire body pulsating along with the loud beeping of the chip in his back. Peter screamed in agony at first, hoping that death had finally come, but it hadn’t. Thousands of hungry wolves tore at his flesh, ripping everything from him down to the bones and then taking a go at those as well. Fire licked every inch of his body like a ravenous storm, wanting to burn every bit of sanity he had. He cried out, unable to keep the pain bottled up inside. Tears spilled over like a million volcanoes, and even their soft warmth seemed to dig into his cheeks like angry knives. Breaths stopped short and blackness began to spread across his field of vision, his body not knowing whether to fight the pain or to give into it, torn into a tug-of-war match Peter could not control. He was being ripped in half, drawn and quartered, his heart the center of it, being separated in every direction.

Then, the pills kicked in and he began to reconsider his brash, self-destructive decisions.

What had he been thinking? He couldn’t go back to Mrs. Carlson now. He’d been there for less than a day, and if he walked through the front door to her house -it wasn’t his anymore- she’d be ashamed. He’d be a failure.

But he couldn’t go back to a place that sent students to a living hell for simply walking out of the front gate. Peter wasn’t a crimi- well, he hadn’t been for a very long time. He’d been good since he was dropped off at the Institution. Peter decided to get help. He'd crawl to the road, just on the other side of the dense trees, and someone would save him. Then, Peter thought of a better idea. Maybe he could try to fly away. He hadn’t used his wings in so long that he didn’t know if they would work or not. He slid off his blazer, though movement struck him with lightning. Luckily, they’d made slits in his button up for his wings, though it was obvious from their condition he would never be able to use them for more than short bursts if he used them at all.