Birds of a Feather

three

As soon as I lay down, I ordered Jack out of the room. I couldn't look at him. I had fantasized about seeing him again. To hug him, to kiss him, to scream at him, to look him in the eyes one more time knowing who he truly was. To get my well-deserved closure. What I felt and what I saw in him was an unadulterated pain that festered into a deadly rage. For anyone else, that would be normal. But for those of us who shoot fire from their palms, make saline bags implode, and have angel-of-death wings; you can understand how that rage might transform into something just a little bit more troublesome.
The moment my family walked in, it was as if all was forgotten. The last thing I remembered was their beautiful faces flickering like a broken projector before the end of my life. Or what I supposed to be the end of my life. Clearly, I was not dead. Though something was amiss. My body, from that small amount of movement felt like it had gone for a ten mile run. Almost as if I hadn't used my arms or legs in ages. I could still see my reflection in the mirror, my face was pallid and haggard. Though my hair had clearly grown a significant amount. How come I had such a period of time missing from my memory? What had happened to me?
A tear-soaked reunion with my family followed shortly after. I hugged all three of them and refused to let go. For me, it felt like I had only seen them yesterday. But I could tell from my father's significant weight loss, Rachel's bags under her eyes, and Jenna's mismanaged hair that something truly bad had happened to me. That my family had been going through it. Once we got out all the hugs and kisses and the confirmation that I was really alive, I turned to my father.
"Why the hell did you let Jack in my room?" I blurted. Half accusation and half playful.
Rachel, my seventeen year old sister cackled like a hyena, enjoying her laughter for probably the first time in a while. "Dad, I told you Dylan would kill you if you let that literal embodiment of dog shit into her room,"
My dad blushed. He didn't offer a response, but frankly I didn't care. I laughed a scratchy laugh. My voice obviously hadn't been used for some time.
The door opened, and Dr. Frobisher had returned. He'd allowed us some time to reunite, but the scientific hunger I could sense in his eyes could only keep him away for so long. I was sure he'd have a lot of things to ask me, and a lot of tests he'd want to run if he hadn't already run them.
"So, Doc. What is the deal? When are these wings coming off?" I inquired.
Even though no one had been talking much before that, the room had gone silent and stale. It was deafening. They all knew something I didn't. I mean there was definitely no way that I was going to have to lug around giant, black wings for the rest of my life. Right?
Dr. Frobisher sighed. He spoke the words that I could sense were coming. "They're not." I opened my mouth to ask why, but he had already forseen that and began to answer my unspoken question. "Somehow, someone was able to create you wings out of organic matter. They were surgically attached it seems. And quite precisely at that. You now have hair-thin cords of titanium running through your body. At least we think it's titanium. Somehow, these strings are connected to your nervous system so that your brain can send signals to your... wings. So you may open or close them on command."
"That doesn't really explain why you can't take the motherfuckers off?" I retorted, flustered by his pretentious attitude. Like, dude I don't care how they work I just want them off of me.

My dad hit me on the ankle almost forcefully. He mouthed the word "Language!".

Thedoctor acted as if he hadn't heard my foul mouth. "The procedure required wouldbe too invasive, it would most likely paralyze you if not partly thancompletely. Frankly, I have no idea how the wings were installed without havingthat very same effect."
I processed this informationrather quickly. Okay, I have wings now. Iguess I can live with that. Then, "So then what of my flame-shooting,saline-boiling super powers?"
Dr. Frobisher looked flushedand embarrassed to admit it, but eventually- sheepishly- he did. "We don't haveso much as the fragment of an idea how you obtained these abilities. Let alonehow to... remove them. While you were asleep, you made the room cold or hotdependent on your state. You caused a small earthquake and windstorm. We don'teven know the limit of your ability. Perhaps running some physical tests willprove helpful now that you are awake,"
I had a lot of things I thoughtI might say... but I didn't. I just kept my mouth shut and gazed open mouthed atthe wall.
And that my friends, is whenmy life got weird. Very sci-fimovie-like. Quite the opposite of what true life should be.