Empyrean

broken

        It was never Megan they wanted. It was me. 

        I came to that conclusion after the second day of consciousness. Maybe the principal had messed up, and thought that it was Megan that the Board wanted. Or maybe she was testing my reaction when she asked those questions. I couldn't be sure. Maybe the Board made the mistake, and snatched the wrong girl. But the Board never maked mistakes. 

        Whatever it was, it was unquestionably me who they destroyed, or 'enhanced,' not Megan. 

        The big things that I had felt during the surgery were wings. I learned that when I came back to the land of the living. They were huge and dark, with sleek, long feathers in some places and soft downy in others. The people measured, and my 'new additions' were about thirteen feet across. How impressive, they said. The wings, despite their gigantic size, folded nicely against my spine, hugging my back. They were flexible, and easily pressed into the size of a small backpack when not extended. This made it easy to sit and walk without crumpling the feathers. 

        Apparently I was successful. Imagine that. Since when did the Community Board ever have anything successful? Am I lucky to be alive? I could've recieved a muddled brain, or no brain at all. They said I should be thankful, and proud that I was strong enough to survive the surgery. I didn't care how blessed I was. I just wanted to go home. Through the hollowness of shock and pain, there was the constant, burning sensation of hatred. I wanted to hurt them all for what they had done to me. 

        "Don't be mad." One of the doctors said, "I know it's frustrating. But you're an incredible discovery for the Community. Just think how you are changing the lives for the better of your family and friends." She looked down at me, where I was crumpled against the wall of my cell. This particular one seemed to have a fondness for me, like I was a silly puppy that followed her around. 

        I glared up at her from behind my tangled mop of hair. The wings shifted angrily behind me. They were powerful. They could smash her right now, if I wanted them to. Flatten her like a pancake. 

        "Take me home." I croaked. She smiled sadly. 

        "I'm afraid you can't go home, Tabitha. We need you here." she said. I didn't answer. After a good thirty seconds, she spoke again. "Don't you want to try them out?"

        "What out?"

        "The wings. You must be curious. And we're very eager to see how they work on you. Quite a lot of work was put into them." she said. I didn't answer, but turned my back on her, the wings curling around me like curtains. There was silence for about a minute before I heard her footsteps and the door shutting behind her. 

        They didn't ask my opinion the next day, but forced me to my feet and into the lab. I was seated on a very long table, long enough for the wings to touch the tips of each end. My wrists were bound. I sit quietly, as they ran their squeaky gloved hands up and down the feathers and setting my nerves on fire. 

        "They're very healthy." The scientist from before said, "Perfect for flight." 

        "Do me a favor and shut the hell up." I said, but my voice was hollow. She only pursed her lips, and ran a hand absently over the soft feathers that were closest to my shoulder. "Don't touch me." I hissed. She drew her hand back and walked away. 

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        "Brace yourself, Tabitha." 

        I couldn't believe this. They couldn't be serious. 

        "Are you ready?" 

        I glanced over the edge, and almost puked right there. It was at least a four-hundred foot drop. At least. A cluster of white dots were gathered at the bottom, surrounding a gigantic bouncy mattress filled with air. A slight wind curled through my matted hair. The sun was setting on the city. If the situation hadn't have been what it was, I would've cried with joy at the sight of the sun again. How long had it been? Weeks, at least. My stomach plummeted. 

        They were seriously about to do this. What was I supposed to do, fly? The wings fluttered nervously behind me. They were panicked, too. Feathers stood up in all directions, as if they were saying, Nope, nope, nope, nope... The scientist behind me motioned to the group of workers dressed in black. They moved together as one, grabbing hold of the wings. Gently but firmly, they extended them to their full length. All I could do was stand and stare down. 

        "Don't worry, Tabitha. You'll be fine. Just remember to flap." the head scientist said. Was that supposed to comfort me?

        "Okay. Don't panic. We're going to push you, nice and slow. All you have to do is flap your wings, and you'll be fine." he patted my back. Another worker stepped forward, and I felt something cold touch my spine. 

        "That was the tracker." the head scientist said, "It's just to make sure we don't lose you." 

        Why would they 'lose me?' Did they expect me to fly away, into the sunset, like some sort of bird? No, no. It wouldn't go like that. They would push me off of this building, and I would plummet to my death. Their star experiment would be ruined. It was so idiotic it was almost funny. 

        I looked sideways, at my wings. The wind ruffled the dark feathers, filling them like kites. They were alive, livid. Anxious to flap. I gave a ragged breath, and let out a dry sob. These wings weren't going to catch me. They weren't mine. Only monsters that had been glued to my back, ready to betray me and let me die. I didn't own them, the Community did. I was just the host. 

        Cold hands pressed against my back hard. My feet stumbled, I gasped, and the world twisted.