Before the burial, Ruth was dressed in a black, simple dress along with a grey pattern on the front. She slumped around the old house, trying to block out the painful memories of three days ago. She slowly grabbed the cleaned figurine off of her mother's dresser, and examined it closely. It was a small, bronze Pegasus standing on a block. Ruth held it close, and gently rubbed the necklace her mother had given her in her last moments, but refused to cry. No, she wouldn't cry again; she had to be strong... For her mother. Gripping the bronze statue, Ruth heads outside. The full moon gleams through the night. Ruth sighed, getting choked up.
"Mamma always loved the night... Especially nights like this," she whispered into empty air. Loosening her grip on the small figurine, Ruth let the moonlight hit it. Suddenly, the statue lit up with a golden brilliance. The gold light wrapped itself around Ruth, and she felt warm. Whispers surrounded her, but she kept still, surprised by the show before her. Ruth was able to pick out a small phrase before one whisper melted into another, overlapping and becoming a jumbled mess of meaningless words and sounds.
'The bronze in the night
It shines so bright,
And allows the owner
To take flight.'
Ruth felt a slight twinge in between her shoulder blades, and flinched. She still didn't step out of the golden embrace, though. Her back felt like it was on fire, now. She tried to scream, but it was stuck in her throat. The pain toned down to a warm throb, and Ruth whimpered. Ruth felt her feet lift off of the ground, but her fear was nowhere in sight. Then, it was gone. She fell to the ground, and felt a sudden lightness to her movements. Ruth stood up, and almost fainted. Spread out on both of her side, were wings. Large, silver, feathery wings. She was only nine, but Ruth decided that she would take this as an adult.
"They're wings, no big deal," She muttered to herself, and started on her way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
20 years later
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
29-year-old Ruth woke up to little kids laughing outside of her window. She dragged herself out of bed, and looked out. It was the usual group of four little kids, waiting for her to come and play with them.
"Come on, Ruth!" one of them called up to her. She smiled, and quickly dressed in a T-shirt with a guitar and blue jeans. Running down the stairs, she was about to slam out the door when a voice stopped her.
"Where are you going?" Rolling her eyes, Ruth let go of the door knob, and turned to face to face the man in a chair.
"I'm going out to watch the little kids, make sure nothing happens to them," she answered, annoyed. He nodded and was about to say something when Ruth escaped. "Freedom!" she shouted, and the young kids all laughed. Ruth looked around, and saw a little girl in a wheelchair at the edge of the grassy area. Ruth got down on one knee and asked a little girl with brown braids, "Hey, do you know her?" and nodded towards the little girl in the wheelchair. The young child shrugged.
"That's Rose. She has a muscle condition, so she can't play. Just ignore her." Lacy informed her, took her hand, and tried to pull Ruth away, but Ruth walked towards Rose, who was startled.
"Hi sweetie. Do you want to play a game with us?" Ruth asked, kneeling down by the girl. She nodded, and Ruth could see tears forming behind Rose's thick-framed glasses. "OK, come on. Do you want me to push you?" Again, the little girl nodded. Ruth nodded, and pushed the wheelchair over to the other kids. A few of them groaned, but Ruth shot them a glare that could burn holes in diamond, and they quieted. "This is Rose, and she will be playing with us anytime she wants to," she stated, and Rose gave a half-hearted wave to them.
"Hi," she whispered. The first person to introduce themselves was Rusty, a pale little boy with red hair.
"Hi! I'm Rusty." He thrust out his hand to her, and she shook it very lightly. Next was Jose, a little dark-skinned boy with brown hair.
"I'm Jose," he said a little shyly, Rose smiled at him, and so on and so forth.
After all the kids were introduced, they played hide-and-seek. Rose won, being the last one found, and Ruth ended up counting every time. Around 4:30, Ruth said,
"Alright, guys, we should head home."
"Will you take us?" Lacy asked, and Ruth nodded.
"Don't want you getting hurt."
Ruth took the whole group of kids, stopping at every one of their houses and dropping them off. As it turned out, Rose lived only a few houses down from Ruth, so she got dropped off last.
"I had lots of fun," Rose whispered, and Ruth smiled.
"Good! Do you want to play with us tomorrow?" Ruth asked her. Rose nodded, and for the first time, Ruth saw her smile, a genuine smile that made her glow inside. Then the glow darkened, and broke away all together. "I... I have something to show you tomorrow, OK?" Rose nodded again, and her mom came outside to greet them.
"Come on Rose, it's not safe- Oh? Who is this lovely young lady?" she asked, smiling at Ruth.
"My name is Ruth, Ma'am. You have a wonderful daughter, so kind and thoughtful." Rose blushed, but Ruth could tell that she was happy.
"Well, I'm just glad she behaved herself. Thank you so much for bringing her home safe. My name is Katy," the woman introduced herself, and Ruth dipped her head in respect.
"Its been a pleasure meeting you and your daughter, but I must get home now." Ruth was in a hurry, she barely remembered to wave to Rose before hurrying off. When she arrived home, her breath was caught in her throat. Before her was a scene she had never hoped to see. Her house was trashed, as though a mini storm had burst through the unharmed door. On the cracked table, was a crisp, clean piece of paper. On it, were these words:
Before you start a war, you better know what your fighting for. If you want to see the old man alive again, come to 1046 Maple Lane at exactly 5:00 P.M. tomorrow. See you there, Ruth.
Ruth balled up the piece of paper, and roared in anger. Her silver wings spread out before her, and as she watched they started to smoke. It wasn't fire, but burning resentment in it's truest form, burning the shining silver into a pitch black.
'Good,' she thought. 'This color suits me better anyway.'
