Title: If I Could Fly Summary: Eyes of a child. Author Notes: I am trying something new. I hope it works. Not beta-ed. Any mistakes are my own. Sorry. More notes at the end. I wished I could fly. I couldn't, but my brother could. He would tell me how it would feel to fly during a night rainstorm with the wind and rain blowing into your face, and the lightening flashing around you like lace. I asked him if he was afraid. He laughed as he caught a hold a handful of lightening and wove me a gossamer cloak of lace. ...Oh, how I wished I could fly. We lived out in the country--miles away from neighbors. When we were little, we had lived in the city. Mom had been called in by the school about my brother. She had come in, tightlipped, the sun glinting off her her shiny red hair. The principal had told her that my brother had been found on the roof of the school. He had refused to tell them why and how he got up there since the door to the stairway up there were locked and only keys were held by the principal, the vice principal, and the janitor crew. Mom had darted a look at my brother who had scowled down at his feet, his thick red hair curtain in front of his blue eyes. She had known somehow that my brother could fly. When my father came home that night, we could heard them talking softly in their room. Unlike most people, my brother and I could not read them well. Occasionally, we would get strong emotions....and what we got was Fear. They were frightened...not about my brother...but about *Them.* I wasn't quite sure who *Them* was, although my brother knew. My brother remembered everything. We packed our bags that day. Our parents quitted their jobs and we found this little house in the mountains, by a small lake--far, far away from everyone else. They were afraid someone would see my brother fly. My parents had been worried that my brother would be lonely out here. He was twelve. I was three years younger. When my brother was a baby, my parents had been separated--not because they wanted to but because they had to. It had to do with *Them.* They finally were able to be reunited after a year. Nine months later I was born. My parents had been very surprised to find out about me. They had thought my brother had been an "One Time Miracle Baby." But they shouldn't have worried. We loved it. We were glad to get away from the city. Those voices that constantly chattering in our minds were silenced. Out here all we could hear was the whispers of the trees. Our favorite time was at night when both of our parents were able to leave what they were doing. We would take a blanket from the hall closet, searched for a the right spot, and spread the blanket out. Dad would lie down first, then mother would lie down in his arms next, pressing her red hair against his chest. My father would lift his hand and stroke her back. My brother would take one side of them and I would take the other and we would curled up around them, so close that we could hear the song of their hearts pounding in our ears. It was our favorite song. Dad would reach out and point to the brightest star in the sky and say quietly, "There's she is...your aunt...my sister..." And we could see a little girl with long dark hair dancing in the sky. We also liked to slip away into the tiny grove of trees not far from the house. Here my brother and I would play. We would crowned ourselves with moonlight and weave cloaks to wear and dance there like stars in the night. This we did not speak to our parents, although we were sure they knew. They always did. We went exploring one day around the land that surrounded our house. And it had rained the night before. I had scampered up a steep hillside...one that I had done some many times before. I could see my brother below as he crawled on his hands and knees, looking at the animal and plant life that made their home under a fallen tree. I was making my way across a narrow ledge that hung high above. It was then I could feel the ground crumbling underneath me.... I gave a soundless cry. ....I was falling.... My brother cried out my name and came flying--but he was too far away to reach me...Nor did he have time to weave me a net of sunlight to catch me... ....I could feel my hair whipping across my face... ...I could hear the wind singing... ...and the sunlight dancing warm on my head... ...I reached out to blue sky...and felt its hand on my own... ... And I heard my brother sobbing and laughing at the same time... ...It was then, I realized.... ....I was flying... ....Flying....
Fini Author's Note: This was kind of inspired by the People stories by Zenna Henderson. Lovely stories. Constructive feedback is always welcome. Myriss
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