Wingless

by Taylor Lavati

  I bend at my knees and cover my ears at the competing noises coming from the black-boxed screens. Micha snaps his fingers and the noise ceases to exist. I peek up, and Micha's smiling down at me, humor playing around in his light eyes.

  "Take your time," he says, trying to hide his laughter. "Here is a remote control. You can change channels, turn the volume up or down, and pretty much do whatever you want. Humans love these little things."

  "Where are you going?" I ask him as I reach for the remote in his hand.

  "I have to prepare to go down to Earth," he says. "I'll be back in a little while." He retreats through the door without another word, and I'm left alone.

  "Thanks!" I yell after him.

  I hear a slight laugh that I'm not sure is his, but I pretend it is just for my own satisfaction. I turn my attention back to the room I'm in. I point the remote at the screen, and it blasts to life. But, unlike before, the volume is at a normal level that doesn't kill my ears.

  A television show is on inside of the black box. People that look to be around my age are on the screen. They talk with each other in what looks like the center where testing is done here. The walls are white, contrasting with the dark ground and garish red and orange tiled squares. It's unpleasing to my eyes, but it seems nobody in the television shares my disgust.

  In the Veil, we're only allowed to wear white, unless we're in the training center. Then, we can wear different colors depending on what we're doing. I don't know if it's the colors or the adrenaline, but the training center has always been my favorite place to be. I feel free there. I feel like I don't have to try to be something I'm not.

  The kids in this show are wearing a hundred different colors each from head to toe. This one kid has long, brown hair, almost down to his shoulders, but it's spiked in different ways and at weird angles. His hair is even streaked with white and yellow coloring.

  His blue pants have white stripes down the side and around the waist. His first shirt, which tucked into his pants, is a vibrant red that I've only seen once or twice before in my life. The second shirt, which is over the first, is checkered in red, white, and black.

  It reminds me of a jacket, but this child is wearing it wide open and loose. The sleeves are way too long on him, hanging past his wrists and almost covering his fingers. It makes me think he must have borrowed it from his much larger Guardian.

  After I've looked at different clothing and listened to the way the teenagers speak to one another, I flip the channel to something completely different. It's hard to figure out how to use the remote. I look down at the skinny, black thing and try to understand what each button does. Even the buttons on this device are colored.

  I click one with a plus sign, and the volume on the screen skyrockets. I quickly hit the minus to make it get back to a normal level. My ears ring a little, but after some fast rubbing, the ringing stops. I press a button that looks like an arrow and the screen changes, showing me a new show. This show isn't real at all, and I've seen it before.

  During classes, we studied humans pretty frequently. Nothing in-depth enough to make me feel like I know humans, but enough to get a general idea of who they are, what they do, and, sometimes, why they acted certain ways.

  For example, we read a novel that explained humans and their wars. Since Angels are mostly peaceful, I know students wondered why humans would attack other humans. I had trouble understanding it myself. But, humans aren't all treated equally. Their society isn't as advanced as ours.

  Humans look like Angels, minus the wings, but their bodies are generally larger and thicker. We fly so we tend to be long and lean, with small frames. I guess I just missed out on the long part, since I'm shorter than most Angels I know.

  I saw this show in my class on human emotions. It's called a cartoon, and young children watch them to feel happy and laugh. They're funny programs apparently, but I don't understand most of their references. My teacher would tell us which parts to laugh at and the appropriate responses. We had a quiz where the teacher would turn the cartoon on and pause at random moments. We'd have to answer what emotion we're supposed to feel in that moment. I'm pretty sure I just barely passed—which, for me, is failing.

  I try to understand the humor in this particular one, but it all flies over my head. I'm left more confused. There's a bunch of children, talking to each other, but they don't even look like humans. They have different colored hair and they swim and jump around. They have human faces, but that's about the only resemblance I see.

  They get on these little boards that look like the shape of an eye and use their arms and feet to swim through light blue water, something we have none of in the Veil. I want to experience the water. From what I know, it's wet, like tears, and soothing. It sparkles under the sun on the television.

  "Hey, dude," I say as I stand up from the table. I watch the guy walk on brown ground with two humans beside him. They step at the same time, almost as if they're trying to be in unison. The character speaks, and I try to replicate his words and tone again.

  "Let's go board by the pier. You're totally going to crush them," I say, my voice awkward even to my own ears. I try to lower my voice to sound like a man's, but it cracks when I dip below my register. I have no idea what I just said, but it sounded good.

  "Reggie, get dad! Otto crashed and shredded his knee," I mimic the little light haired, fat person. I realize that dad is her Guardian. They call it dad there, but I've heard of that before. The title of dad or mom is the same as Guardian, or mother or father. It's less formal, my teacher once told me.

  I sit back down in my chair and give up trying with this cartoon. I change the channel with the remote, since I don't understand a single thing, and find another show with real humans in it. I study their movements and try to mimic them in my seat. They seem to do this thing with their fingers and hands a lot.

  I bring my hand to my mouth and then wave it out towards an imaginary person in front of me. They call it 'blowing kisses.' It looks ridiculous as I practice doing it. Then I do what they call a 'peace sign.' I'm sure I'll use that a lot when I try to make friends. It shows that I'm friendly and that I can fit in with them.

  I think the main thing that I'm able to grasp is that anything goes. There are no rules or regulations. In the Veil, you act a certain way, you speak a certain way, and follow every single rule or else you're going against Rem. And nobody goes against Rem—that's the most important rule. But on Earth, there are different languages and different leaders; people seem crazy because of it.

  I turn to a movie, which is different than television shows. Television shows are shorter and are shown over time, where a movie is longer and just one. It's a cartoon and there's a ton of singing and dancing and playing.

  For some reason, the movie makes my eyes droopy. I rest my elbow on the white table and lean my head on my palm, so I'm sitting upright, my eyes fluttering along with the show. The pictures move fast, the colors flying about in a dizzying manner. I'm used to white, white, and more white. My eyes can hardly keep up with the blues and pinks and oranges and greens.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Earthbound

  I must have fallen into meditation, because I'm jostled awake by a large warm hand on my back shaking my shoulder so hard that it disorients me. I jump up, startled, and my head bangs right onto something hard. I groan and rub my head, sure a bump will most likely appear soon.

  "Sorry," Micha apologizes, stepping back away from me. I finally see him beside me, smiling. "Television does that to humans, too."

  "What? Make them hit your head?" I ask, while rubbing the pain out of my forehead. It feels like something is trying to pop out of my brain.

  "Sleep," he answers, laughing under his breath. His light blue eyes fill with humor, squinting as he laughs. He's so beautiful when he smiles. He should do it more often.

  "Oh, yeah," I groan out, trying to figure out what the heck happened to me. I look around, only to find that I'm in the same room as before. All
the televisions are turned off; the room is almost completely blackened except for the constant white light in the air.

  "It's time to go," he says, bowing his head seriously.

  "Sure," I answer, getting up from my seat. I try to compose myself, but really, I've been in the same clothes for days and haven't really done much. I'm feeling quite stir crazy. For the first time in my life, I actually fell asleep without having to meditate at all. To say I'm losing it would be an understatement.

  Again, I follow behind Micha as he leads me around the place. I study him from behind as he flutters about. I'm jealous of how easily he maneuvers his body. I'm jealous of the black wings that protrude from his back—so mighty and strong. I should have wings, too. I should be able to fly around and be all angelic. But I don't and I'm not.

  "I'm afraid this is as far as you can go alone," he says as we come upon large doors, which I'm assuming lead outside. It makes sense, since I can't fly at all. I can't really do much of anything. I don't answer Micha, just nod, knowing that he's going to have to help me around.

  He comes to me and grabs behind my knees and under my back, lifting me in one swift motion. He cradles me like a baby, and my ego takes a nosedive into the clouds. I hate being helped. But I know I'm useless here, so I let him. The fact that he's touching me makes it a bit easier, to be honest.

  When the doors open, a whoosh of air hits me square in the face so hard that the wind is knocked out of my lungs. It pains me, but I don't show it. I just tuck myself closer to Micha's body to hide from the whipping wind.

  "Hold on," he says, and then steps into the air. Since my head is near his shoulder, I glance back at his wings, which expand out into large, dominant beings of themselves. Each is enormous, with thousands of dark feathers on it, helping him move with grace and unparalleled speed.

  "Wow," I whisper to myself as I watch his wings move up and down, just barely, but enough to make him move. It's mesmerizing to watch their patterns and the way they so easily move him. I go to touch the tip of the wing, which is closest to me, but Micha's hand on my back moves up and stops me.

  "Don't," he says with a stern voice that I don't dare go against.

  "Sorry," I say back, not knowing what I did wrong. I've never felt wings before. Even when Perry got them, I never felt the need to check them out and run my fingers under the feathers. They were just there—a part of her. I'm sure I've felt my Guardians' wings before, but I don't really remember. I just have this innate urge to stroke Micha's black wings.

  He doesn't say anything else as he concentrates on the whiteness around us, so I tear my attention away from his wings and face front. My stomach somersaults when I look down at the endless white below me. For miles, all I can see is emptiness, and I have no idea where we are anymore. It's disorienting, since I can't tell which way we're flying.

  My head starts to spin as I try to figure out which way is up and down. I cling to Micha for fear that he may drop me, and I'll be gone forever. Though, I'm not sure which I'd prefer at this point—Earth or death. I don't know if he picks up on my tension or can just tell I'm scared, but his hand rubs circles on my back, soothing me.

  I look up at him, but he refuses to look down at me. I stare, willing him to peek down, but his eyes stay trained on the white in front of us. Yet, his hand continues to rub my back comfortingly. I'm both confused and perplexed.

  I lean my head against his chest and watch the air trickle by, as dull as that sounds. I soak in his scent and his warmth. I try to memorize it. Micha is the last Angel that I'll get to see for at least a year. Despite the fact that I've had a crush on Micha for most of my teen life, I hate what is happening to me and that he's involved.

  I know that it's not just Micha's call to banish me to earth and that a lot of factors went into it, but it still hurts. The rational part of my brain tells me that this is the only answer and that I would have had a bad life in the Veil. But the other parts of my brain feel hatred for the first time in my life.

  I hate the fact that not one Angel wanted to give me a chance to live up there. I hate that everyone, excluding Tab, just accepted my banishment to Earth and let me go easily. I hate that while Micha has been great and somewhat supportive, he's still bringing me to Earth and will most likely leave me there to fend for myself.

  I resent the Angels as horrible as that sounds. I resent Rem, too, for not interfering. I've always been a good Angel. I've never thought bad thoughts until recently. I've never made someone upset or put someone down. I was good to the core, and now I'm being thrown out of the Veil like a bad soul.

  "We're almost there," Micha's deep voice wraps me up. I glance around, coming out of my stupor, and notice the very faint colors start to emerge below us. The whiteness slowly starts to fade away and green ground emerges faster and faster towards us, like it's going to attack with its beauty. I cling to Micha for dear life.

  "What is that?" I ask him, trying to figure out why parts are brown and green and dark blue. There are so many colors going on that it's hard to differentiate what's what. I don't know if I'll ever get used to the constant stimulation.

  "Those are different grounds," Micha answers, his voice light again. But he still won't look down at me, and I wonder if I upset him. "That's water and fields. Didn't you watch the shows?" he questions me as he points around the ground.

  "Yes," I whine. "But they were confusing."

  "I'll help you, don't worry," Micha promises.

  He starts to slow our decent down as he hovers away from the green grasses and gets closer to what looks like houses, which are silver and brown. But they're like no houses I've seen before. They're larger, and by larger, I mean enormous. They are hundreds of floors up and wider than the schools in the Veil. And in between houses there are little lanes for the humans' cars to zip around.

  As we get closer and closer to the ground, little people come into view. There are hundreds of them moving around in packs. Little cars that look like the toys I played with as a child speed from place to place. It's identical to movies I've seen, but from this point of view, it's almost like I'm watching through a television still.

  Micha lands on the top of one of the houses in a graceful motion. It's one of the biggest ones down here that I can see. I let go of Micha the second I can touch the ground and run to the edge of the house to see what's going on below. But before I can get a good look, Micha grabs me by the arm and tugs me backwards to his body, my face landing right against his hot chest.

  "You can fall down and die," he huffs out, gritting his teeth as he holds onto me.

  "What?" I ask back, not understanding. I can barely concentrate on his words when his body is right against me, touching me, holding me. I look up, and his eyes are narrowed on me, like he's truly worried. My stomach rolls and my heart races against my chest. He's way too close for comfort.

  "Life here is fragile. There are no second chances or Domineers to save you. If you were to fall, you would cease to exist," he explains as he lets me go. I stumble back a little, hating yet needing the space.

  "Well, why'd you bring me up here, then?"

  "Come on," he says, smiling again. He grabs my hand, and a surge of electricity courses through my veins. I try to ignore it, but it's nearly impossible when it vibrates through my bones. I let him lead me to a little hut in silence. His fingers intertwine with mine, and his thumb rubs the back of my hand.

  He waves his hand in front of him, opening up the light gray door. My eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the darkness within the door. But, after I'm able to see past the doorway, a set of long looking stairs and a lot of gray metal are revealed. For some reason, I don't think this is a house anymore—at least it's nothing like I've been in or seen before. I follow behind, still clinging to his hand as we walk down the stairs for a whole two sets.

  "This is your house," he says, opening a smaller door after the long, metal hallway ends. "You'll stay here for your entire time on Earth, or at least until you want to move. This
entire floor is yours, but other people live downstairs. It's different than the Veil. This is called an apartment and it's shared."

  But I barely understand his words. When the door is opened, I run in and look around my new place. I've never lived alone before; and to be honest, I never thought I would. When I was chosen with Tab, I knew I'd have to move in with him immediately so we could have a child and become Guardians together. I knew my independence was gone the day that it was revealed.

  It's almost like I'm getting a second chance at life.

  I run from room to room, exploring this new, foreign place. Despite just having one floor to myself, it's huge. I find a chair with chairs and couches. In the room is a large television that hangs on the wall, with strings coming out the back of it.

  I find another room with a bed. I assume this will be my chamber. The bed is double the size of my bed back in the Veil, and it's covered in these blankets and pillows. I sit on it and the bed sinks beneath my weight. I test it out a little bit, bouncing up and down.

  I stumble into the kitchen after wandering down the hallway. It's filled with actual utensils in it, unlike my Guardians' house in the Veil. There are cabinets and drawers lining one of the walls, and the drawers are filled with spoons and forks and knives.

  Lastly, I enter a bathroom through a tall, white door. I've never seen a bathroom before in my life, except for on the television. The room is very similar to those in the Veil—it's white and clean and everything is perfectly organized in its place.

  I run back to the front area when I can't absorb seeing one more thing, and Micha's leaning against the door, a small smile playing on his face. He's got amazing teeth. I stand in front of him and shrug my shoulders, not knowing what to say. Do I say thank you? Do I start asking one of the million questions I have?