HOME | DD

Description
CHAPTER 2 - THE SPARROW

The secret I'd been trying to hold in for so long finally burst through.
It ripped through my hopes and dreams, destroying everything I'd ever known.

I leaned against the basin in the bathroom of my house, panting. Retching up another round of what was left of my dinner, I gazed up into the wooden framed mirror. The dark timber of the small room almost hid what was sprouting from my back, flapping gently. My face was covered in sweat, my mid-length hair dangling in my tawny eyes. I reached back, as if I was in a trance, and touched the delicate feathers. Both my hand and my wing jerked, as if they had never touched before.
Yanking off my thick shirt, I grabbed the tops of my bird-like wings and pushed. Slowly they folded against my back, staying there as I pressed them in. Lifting my shirt, I inspected the holes in the back. They were space evenly apart, running from the top of my shoulder blades all the way down to the bottom. Unbuckling one of the two belts from my pants, I tied it around my waist, restraining my wings tightly. Pulling my shirt back over my head, I reached out, washing the mess out of the basin. My hands shook as I turned off the tap and walked out into the main parlour.
The decor was typical 1916 patterning. The couch was floral whist the rug was traded from Persia, in similar colours. The walls were plain and the tea table was a deep brown timber, as always.
My boots were loud on the wooden flooring as I stopped in front of my family, sitting on the two duplicate couches.
They fell silent as I approached, staring in shock. A woman with dark ochre hair and deep blue eyes exclaimed, "Galvin! Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, mother," I replied stiffly.
She didn't seem convinced.
"I don't think that fish went down properly," I lied.
She nodded in comprehension and returned to her chatter, casting worried glances over at me.
My little sister, Harriet, hopped off the couch, running to me. She clung to my legs and gazed up at me. "Do the lifting thing!" She pleaded.
Smiling, I reached down and scooped her up, spinning her around in a circle. She giggled: that little sound that always made me happy. Setting her back down, she reached up and grabbed my shirt, pulling me down to her. "Come with me!" she demanded.
Getting up, I turned and followed her to her room. It was a soft pink wallpaper decorated with swirls, flowers and pretty patterns. As I plonked down on her bed next to her, she blurted out, "I had a dream about you!"
Suddenly I was on edge. "Yes? And what was it about, other than me?"
"Well, I was playing outside when you suddenly ran out the back door. You had these beautiful wings sprouting from your back and you lifted me up and we flew to France! It was amazing!"
Lifting a hand and stroking her light brown hair, I said gently, "Harriet. Be serious. There is no such thing as what you saw in a dream." My wings fluttered nervously at the lie, and I repeated over and over in my head, 'not true, not true.'
A voice interrupted my thoughts, calling me back to reality. "Galvin, Harriet, could you come out please?"
"Coming!"
Turning, I crouched and placed my hands on my little sister's shoulders. "It was just a fantasy. Now let's go. Mother wants us."
Nodding, she followed me out, her expression still disappointed.
As I emerged into the main lounge, I felt sick. I stopped dead in my tracks as I noticed every single member of my family was staring at me. They were all standing, wearing hard expressions. Mother was in front of all of them, her arms crossed.
"What's going on?" Harriet asked, moving forward.
Barring her way with my arm, I pulled her close, shielding her from my own family. I had a bad feeling...
A cold, hard voice struck me like a hammer, the words leaving my own mother's mouth harshly. "Turn."
Obeying, I turned, showing her my back, before I realized. Whipping back around, I heard the clicking of her shoes on the wooden floor as she came closer.
"What is that?" she demanded.
Gritting my teeth, I stood firm, holding her gaze. As she stopped in front of me, she reached for Harriet. I pulled my little sister back from my mother, fearing what might happen if I let go.
"Galvin," she crooned in a low, deadly voice, "what happened to your shirt?"
"Nothing," I growled. At that, I felt the muscles in my shoulders clench, writhing underneath my skin. My wings pushed at their bindings. I gasped as a bout of sickness washed over me, my wings draining all the strength from my body. I fell to the floor, on my hands and knees, watching my arms shake.
I felt a hand on my back, pulling at my shirt, but I couldn't do a thing. My mother ripped it off of me, exposing the only secret I had kept my whole life.
The belt around my waist gave out, and my bird wings spread straight upright.
Clenching my fists, I pushed my legs up under me and stood. Staring my mother in the eyes, I growled a challenge at her. "If you can't accept me for who I am, then I'm leaving."
She smiled, an evil grin I'd only ever seen once before. "But Harriet stays."
I glanced at the girl hugging my leg. She was only about eight, with beautiful, long, light ochre hair and deep blue eyes, just like our mother's. She was too young to die. And so was I.
Mother reached into one fold of her dress and I knew what would come out.
Grabbing Harriet, I spread my wings and lifted off, shooting towards the door. I stopped there, turning back and watching mother in silence.
"You would kill your own daughter and son?" I asked calmly.
"You aren't my daughter and son! You're monsters!"
"So you would exterminate us, just like you got rid of the neighbors? You're sick, and one day, I swear, we will make you pay."
I made it out the door as her curved blades hit the doorframe beside me. I ascended into the skies, holding Harriet in my arms, watching my once peaceful country home and saying goodbye.

I woke up in a warehouse. We had been flying for a day and a half, and I had run out of energy. I must have fallen asleep on the way, crashing into this warehouse in London.
I was covered in wood, dust and splinters, lying face-up in a bale of hay. Harriet lay beside me, her face turned toward me, still deeply under.
My shoulder muscles could hardly move, my wings stiff from too much use. I stretched them out, then brought them closer to me, stroking across the soft feathers. I had to admit, my wings were quite beautiful, and now that I was free, I felt much better. I was almost proud of myself.
Hushed voices came to my ears and I froze as a lantern came closer. A head popped over the hay bale, the light source in hand, a softly flickering candle encased in a glass lantern. I let my arms down, dropping into the hay, waiting to die.
But instead I felt a gentle touch in between my shoulder blades. My bare skin was electrified at the touch, and I jolted upward before falling back down again.
A calm voice sounded in my ear, "Sleep."

This time I woke comfortable.
I was laying in a bed in an unknown house. I was on my stomach, to avoid crushing my wings.
Getting up, I glanced around before slipping out the door. I followed the light pouring into a room down the hallway. I padded into the kitchen, going to the window. Outside London spread before me. I watched as people pushed past one another in the dull streets of cobblestone. I suddenly felt very alone, standing on my own in the madness.
"Excuse me..." a hesitant voice came from the hallway.
Whipping around, I saw that it was the woman who had rescued me last night. Her gaze was fixed on me.
"I'm sorry. I'm in your house, and I've got bird wings. I'd better leave."
"No. Stay for a bit. Eat." She moved closer to me, showing no fear at all, only curiosity.
A small frame appeared in the doorway, and Harriet ran over, smashing into me as I crouched. She sobbed into my bare chest, tears spilling over. I stroked her hair and she looked at me. "Mummy tried... She tried - "
"I know. But we have to move on."
She stared beyond me, at something attached to my back.
Bending one wing down, I grabbed it and held it out to her. She reached out gently, barely touching it. Then again, this time firmer, like the pat of a dog. A slow smile spread across her face.
"Now Harriet, go have a bath, okay? I need you to be all nice for this lady over here."
"Will you leave?"
"Of course not."
She nodded and left the room.
Exhaling loudly, I plonked into one of the chairs at the table, my head in my hands.
"You are a very good brother."
I laughed without humor. "One that almost got her killed."
The woman appeared in front of me, and I looked up into a gentle face with light green eyes and brown hair.
"Can I ask you a huge favor?"
She nodded. "Go ahead."
"I don't know you, but I need help. I cannot go home. I never can. And neither can my sister, Harriet. But I cannot stay here. I will be discovered. Harriet is normal. She can stay here, be a normal child, grow up. Without me getting in the way. Will you please help me?"
She smiled, her hand stroking my cheek. "I will. And I have something for you."
She moved behind me and placed something cold and metal on the hollow of my neck. It was beautiful. A silver cross, an elegant swirl of patterns that wove together intricately, meeting in the middle.
I turned, gazing at the woman. "I can't have this."
She nodded. "Yes you can. It was my mother's. But she told me, on her dying wish, that I would eventually find the right person to wear this with pride. That I would know. And I do." She leaned forward, hugging me tightly. Something inside of me clicked, and I hugged her back, exalting at her touch. She fiddled with the base of my wings very carefully.
"But why?"
"Because you are the right one."
I sighed, releasing all of my pent-up emotion.
She whispered, "You have the wings of a Sparrow."
"My name is Galvin."
"Aniela. And your name is who you are."
I hesitated. "But... why the cross?"
She pulled back, placing a hand on my chest, over my heart. It was warm and comforting, and yet, even though she had known me for less than a day, it held love. "Because you're not just a Sparrow.

"You're an angel."

Description
CHAPTER 2 - THE SPARROW

The secret I'd been trying to hold in for so long finally burst through.
It ripped through my hopes and dreams, destroying everything I'd ever known.

I leaned against the basin in the bathroom of my house, panting. Retching up another round of what was left of my dinner, I gazed up into the wooden framed mirror. The dark timber of the small room almost hid what was sprouting from my back, flapping gently. My face was covered in sweat, my mid-length hair dangling in my tawny eyes. I reached back, as if I was in a trance, and touched the delicate feathers. Both my hand and my wing jerked, as if they had never touched before.
Yanking off my thick shirt, I grabbed the tops of my bird-like wings and pushed. Slowly they folded against my back, staying there as I pressed them in. Lifting my shirt, I inspected the holes in the back. They were space evenly apart, running from the top of my shoulder blades all the way down to the bottom. Unbuckling one of the two belts from my pants, I tied it around my waist, restraining my wings tightly. Pulling my shirt back over my head, I reached out, washing the mess out of the basin. My hands shook as I turned off the tap and walked out into the main parlour.
The decor was typical 1916 patterning. The couch was floral whist the rug was traded from Persia, in similar colours. The walls were plain and the tea table was a deep brown timber, as always.
My boots were loud on the wooden flooring as I stopped in front of my family, sitting on the two duplicate couches.
They fell silent as I approached, staring in shock. A woman with dark ochre hair and deep blue eyes exclaimed, "Galvin! Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, mother," I replied stiffly.
She didn't seem convinced.
"I don't think that fish went down properly," I lied.
She nodded in comprehension and returned to her chatter, casting worried glances over at me.
My little sister, Harriet, hopped off the couch, running to me. She clung to my legs and gazed up at me. "Do the lifting thing!" She pleaded.
Smiling, I reached down and scooped her up, spinning her around in a circle. She giggled: that little sound that always made me happy. Setting her back down, she reached up and grabbed my shirt, pulling me down to her. "Come with me!" she demanded.
Getting up, I turned and followed her to her room. It was a soft pink wallpaper decorated with swirls, flowers and pretty patterns. As I plonked down on her bed next to her, she blurted out, "I had a dream about you!"
Suddenly I was on edge. "Yes? And what was it about, other than me?"
"Well, I was playing outside when you suddenly ran out the back door. You had these beautiful wings sprouting from your back and you lifted me up and we flew to France! It was amazing!"
Lifting a hand and stroking her light brown hair, I said gently, "Harriet. Be serious. There is no such thing as what you saw in a dream." My wings fluttered nervously at the lie, and I repeated over and over in my head, 'not true, not true.'
A voice interrupted my thoughts, calling me back to reality. "Galvin, Harriet, could you come out please?"
"Coming!"
Turning, I crouched and placed my hands on my little sister's shoulders. "It was just a fantasy. Now let's go. Mother wants us."
Nodding, she followed me out, her expression still disappointed.
As I emerged into the main lounge, I felt sick. I stopped dead in my tracks as I noticed every single member of my family was staring at me. They were all standing, wearing hard expressions. Mother was in front of all of them, her arms crossed.
"What's going on?" Harriet asked, moving forward.
Barring her way with my arm, I pulled her close, shielding her from my own family. I had a bad feeling...
A cold, hard voice struck me like a hammer, the words leaving my own mother's mouth harshly. "Turn."
Obeying, I turned, showing her my back, before I realized. Whipping back around, I heard the clicking of her shoes on the wooden floor as she came closer.
"What is that?" she demanded.
Gritting my teeth, I stood firm, holding her gaze. As she stopped in front of me, she reached for Harriet. I pulled my little sister back from my mother, fearing what might happen if I let go.
"Galvin," she crooned in a low, deadly voice, "what happened to your shirt?"
"Nothing," I growled. At that, I felt the muscles in my shoulders clench, writhing underneath my skin. My wings pushed at their bindings. I gasped as a bout of sickness washed over me, my wings draining all the strength from my body. I fell to the floor, on my hands and knees, watching my arms shake.
I felt a hand on my back, pulling at my shirt, but I couldn't do a thing. My mother ripped it off of me, exposing the only secret I had kept my whole life.
The belt around my waist gave out, and my bird wings spread straight upright.
Clenching my fists, I pushed my legs up under me and stood. Staring my mother in the eyes, I growled a challenge at her. "If you can't accept me for who I am, then I'm leaving."
She smiled, an evil grin I'd only ever seen once before. "But Harriet stays."
I glanced at the girl hugging my leg. She was only about eight, with beautiful, long, light ochre hair and deep blue eyes, just like our mother's. She was too young to die. And so was I.
Mother reached into one fold of her dress and I knew what would come out.
Grabbing Harriet, I spread my wings and lifted off, shooting towards the door. I stopped there, turning back and watching mother in silence.
"You would kill your own daughter and son?" I asked calmly.
"You aren't my daughter and son! You're monsters!"
"So you would exterminate us, just like you got rid of the neighbors? You're sick, and one day, I swear, we will make you pay."
I made it out the door as her curved blades hit the doorframe beside me. I ascended into the skies, holding Harriet in my arms, watching my once peaceful country home and saying goodbye.

I woke up in a warehouse. We had been flying for a day and a half, and I had run out of energy. I must have fallen asleep on the way, crashing into this warehouse in London.
I was covered in wood, dust and splinters, lying face-up in a bale of hay. Harriet lay beside me, her face turned toward me, still deeply under.
My shoulder muscles could hardly move, my wings stiff from too much use. I stretched them out, then brought them closer to me, stroking across the soft feathers. I had to admit, my wings were quite beautiful, and now that I was free, I felt much better. I was almost proud of myself.
Hushed voices came to my ears and I froze as a lantern came closer. A head popped over the hay bale, the light source in hand, a softly flickering candle encased in a glass lantern. I let my arms down, dropping into the hay, waiting to die.
But instead I felt a gentle touch in between my shoulder blades. My bare skin was electrified at the touch, and I jolted upward before falling back down again.
A calm voice sounded in my ear, "Sleep."

This time I woke comfortable.
I was laying in a bed in an unknown house. I was on my stomach, to avoid crushing my wings.
Getting up, I glanced around before slipping out the door. I followed the light pouring into a room down the hallway. I padded into the kitchen, going to the window. Outside London spread before me. I watched as people pushed past one another in the dull streets of cobblestone. I suddenly felt very alone, standing on my own in the madness.
"Excuse me..." a hesitant voice came from the hallway.
Whipping around, I saw that it was the woman who had rescued me last night. Her gaze was fixed on me.
"I'm sorry. I'm in your house, and I've got bird wings. I'd better leave."
"No. Stay for a bit. Eat." She moved closer to me, showing no fear at all, only curiosity.
A small frame appeared in the doorway, and Harriet ran over, smashing into me as I crouched. She sobbed into my bare chest, tears spilling over. I stroked her hair and she looked at me. "Mummy tried... She tried - "
"I know. But we have to move on."
She stared beyond me, at something attached to my back.
Bending one wing down, I grabbed it and held it out to her. She reached out gently, barely touching it. Then again, this time firmer, like the pat of a dog. A slow smile spread across her face.
"Now Harriet, go have a bath, okay? I need you to be all nice for this lady over here."
"Will you leave?"
"Of course not."
She nodded and left the room.
Exhaling loudly, I plonked into one of the chairs at the table, my head in my hands.
"You are a very good brother."
I laughed without humor. "One that almost got her killed."
The woman appeared in front of me, and I looked up into a gentle face with light green eyes and brown hair.
"Can I ask you a huge favor?"
She nodded. "Go ahead."
"I don't know you, but I need help. I cannot go home. I never can. And neither can my sister, Harriet. But I cannot stay here. I will be discovered. Harriet is normal. She can stay here, be a normal child, grow up. Without me getting in the way. Will you please help me?"
She smiled, her hand stroking my cheek. "I will. And I have something for you."
She moved behind me and placed something cold and metal on the hollow of my neck. It was beautiful. A silver cross, an elegant swirl of patterns that wove together intricately, meeting in the middle.
I turned, gazing at the woman. "I can't have this."
She nodded. "Yes you can. It was my mother's. But she told me, on her dying wish, that I would eventually find the right person to wear this with pride. That I would know. And I do." She leaned forward, hugging me tightly. Something inside of me clicked, and I hugged her back, exalting at her touch. She fiddled with the base of my wings very carefully.
"But why?"
"Because you are the right one."
I sighed, releasing all of my pent-up emotion.
She whispered, "You have the wings of a Sparrow."
"My name is Galvin."
"Aniela. And your name is who you are."
I hesitated. "But... why the cross?"
She pulled back, placing a hand on my chest, over my heart. It was warm and comforting, and yet, even though she had known me for less than a day, it held love. "Because you're not just a Sparrow.

"You're an angel."