Flight (in the writing process)

A Start

My story starts in a small town called Erzeh, where my mother, as a young girl, wanted to fly. She would hold feathers in her hands and jump, flapping her arms as if she were a bird. She did this every day, convinced she would fly. One day, she ran into an old woman while trying.

"What are you doing?" said the woman.

"Trying to fly!" said my mother.

"You cannot fly you silly girl. Stop trying."

"I can fly you old hag. And I will!" Her foolish response shocked the woman, and a certain look came upon her.

“Foolish child!” She took a step back, “Don’t you know who I am?”

“Nope.”

“You are too ignorant to go without punishment!  I curse you and your offspring to have a difficult life, just for calling me a hag! One child will have the gift you wish to possess, but will die a hero's death. For your eternal torment."

My mother scrunched her nose, stuck her tongue out at the old woman, and ran away.

She forgot about the old woman after a while, and as she aged, the more ridiculous the thought of flying became. She dropped her dream for a new one. She now wanted a quiet life with a good husband and a few beautiful children.

She ended up marrying my father, who seemed a good man at the time. The two of them got married, and before long my mother and father were spreading the news that a child was on the way. Me. They awaited the day I was going to be born. And rejoiced in having their first kid. After nine months I was ready to come into the world, and I did. And my father took one look at me, and left. I was not an ugly child, or a disabled child, but the wings on my back must have scared him silly, to think his offspring had wings.  I was told he came into the room to see me, and happily almost picked up his little daughter, before relising the soft feather blanket she lay on wasn’t really a blanket, but avian wings on a human child. He apparently dropped me back into the little cradle i would sleep in until I outgrew it, cast a horrified look at my poor mother and bust open the door. My mother cried. Both at the loss of her husband and the fact that the old woman from her childhood had predicted or caused what he daughter was like. And she knew from the day of my birth that I would die young, helping another who needed me.

My mother and I left that town as soon as I was old enough to travel in the winter. We traveled to a cabin that her family used to stay at in the summer, and that was to forever be our home. It was secluded enough for my secret to be kept, and in a place that would be good to grow up in. It was perfect for our situation.

And hopefully, I'd never have to save anyone.