Winged

Chapter Eighteen

Annabelle

Not far now, the flight would be finished, and my constant dipping up and down and having clipped conversations with a mouse I could barely hear thanks to the roaring wind would be over, and a chance for me to finally rest my back and arm muscles and tendons would be upon me.

But for now, I just had to keep flapping my wings.

It was a necessity, more than anything. Like breathing.

If I stopped flapping, much like if I stopped the circulation of carbon dioxide and oxygen from entering my system, I would fall from the bright sky and fluffy, delicate, humid white clouds, and get eaten up by the heavy, dark depths of water below my feet, the foamy white and rolling blue waves covering my entire existence.

Sabrina

I make my way through the crowd to the double doors and meet my friends outside, the lingering smell of our lunch making my mouth water. Why on earth wouldn't they let me pig myself on the rest?

I look down at my rounded stomach and pat it with my hand. Food baby.

I had missed breakfast this morning, it had been held as I had been processed, however long that took. The tall mound of rock we lived under, or rather the deep earth we live in, hid the sun from our eyes, and the time was a mystery. If it seemed to go fast or slow, who knew.

Breakfast, lunch, dinner, sleep.

That was all I would have to live by, a silly routine marked by bells. As my friends had explained, there was one bell for waking, two for the first meal of the day, three for a midday meal, and four for dinner, a steady fountain flowing down the eastern and western walls providing for water.

This was going to be a nightmare.

And I had no idea how on earth I would wake.

I needed to tell the girls about it, see what they could do to help me, but some part of me wondered if they even wanted to leave.

They seemed so happy and carefree, they looked incredibly healthy, and they had a beautiful little cottage, all to themselves. Could we really be happy here? Until our death?

Is a healthy lifestyle worth the lack of adventure, the lack of two sisters, or two friends?

Not for me, it wasn't.

No, I'm getting out, sooner or later, I decide, kicking the gravel with my bare feet as the rocks roll under my rough, calloused foot. First, I just need to find the answer behind the door.

But how? What were the criteria they looked at on my wrist, what data was so important? I spin it around and look at the small dots and dashes on the back. A code? So I couldn't read it?

Maybe they wanted healthier people. That would be the reason to the majority being picked from the green tables, and the others surrounding it. But getting healthier would take weeks of me stuffing my face, and even breathing with a belly as full as this right now was painful, my stomach stretched to its limit, breaking my lings and ribs.

In a way, thank god they hadn't given me seconds. (And no-one will ever hear me say that, ever again!)

Harriet and Jackie start to walk off, deeper into the cave, and Lucy grabs my sleeve, tugging me along with them.

"I want you to come to meet Asha and Miko and Aya! They're our friends! Harriet and Jackie met them at their table! Hurry up, slow-poke! Aya and I want to go play!"

I stumble over my feet as she kicks up dust running after her older sisters. Their wings all stay neatly tucked under themselves, feathers folded on their backs, and they stick to the dirt path. Grounders, then.