Fly Me Away

I woke up a couple more times that night, the illness threatening to spill, but it hadn’t been too bad until morning. I was hunched over the john, power chucking last night’s chicken casserole into the drain. Mom called school and said I was sick, then called off the cooking class she was taking that day so she could stay home with me. I assured her I would just sleep it off, but she insisted.

Eventually, I managed to reduce the amount of vomiting from constantly, to hourly. I couldn’t believe how sick I was. Mom spent a lot of the day on the phone, calling medical persons. She was told multiple times that I was either pregnant or just had a bug. Since the former was impossible, we came to the conclusion that I just had one of those 24 hour things and that it would pass soon enough. She quarantined me in my room, bringing up cold drinks and food every now and then, which just sat on my bedside table untouched.

My cell phone had been buzzing against my bedside table all day, but I ignored it. It was probably just Pip. She would be alright on her own at school. I couldn’t even move, there was no way I was going just to keep her company. My suspicions were confirmed when she showed up at my house straight after school. Mom wouldn’t let her into my room though, so she spoke to me through the door.

“Maggie are you okay? Your Mom says you’re really really sick so I don’t care that you missed school, but you didn’t answer any of my messages!”

I couldn’t manage a response; just the thought of opening my mouth made me want to barf. I heard Mom mumble something to Pip.

“Alright sorry. It was just so weird without you. Ahh, I better get going. I brought your English assignment... Sorry about that too. Text me when you’re feeling better.”

I didn’t think that would be happening—I could barely even register what she was saying. That was how bad I felt.

By the time night fell, I had eaten nothing, drunk very little, but stopped vomiting. That was a welcomed relief. I felt messy and weak as I lay in the middle of my crumpled bed sheets, starring at the ceiling. I wasn’t tired, that was for sure; I had been sleeping on and off all day. My stomach was concave, but I was definitely starting to come right.

I decided that some fresh air would do me good, so I moved slowly to the edge of the bed and rolled into a sitting position. I felt a bit light-headed, but stable enough to walk. It took a lot more effort than anticipated to haul myself to my feet. I dawdled over to my balcony doors and began fiddling with the handle in the dark, trying to unlock the darn thing. Then I felt a wave of sickness.

“Don’t go out there.”

It was Jackson’s voice in my head again, but it was so faint. The over-powering urge to get out the door was strong enough to brush it off. I struggled harder with the handle, desperate to get out the door as I definitely wasn’t going to make it to the bathroom.

I heaved it open with all my might and rushed to the balcony ledge. I leaned over to throw up, but stopped dead in my tracks when I saw something standing motionless in the middle of my backyard. It looked like a person covered in a big black sheet, with two small red cut out eye holes.

I gasped loud enough to wake the neighbors, then suddenly the black sheet started sprinting towards me.

“No!”

Jackson’s voice growled again, the only difference this time being that it wasn’t in my head. It was directly behind me.

Everything happened so quickly.

There was a flurry of white, and a huge gust of wind forced my eyes shut. A hand flew over my mouth to muffle my screams and I stood there, stunned, when another arm shot out around my waist. I heard a disturbing noise, like a cat being strangled, before my feet left the ground completely. I was aware that somebody was holding me, somebody extremely strong; I had no chance of getting away in my current condition. There was a powerful blast of cold air against the bare skin of my arms and within seconds, the person had let go of me and I hit the earth softly.

My whole body was trembling and my brain refused to let my eyes open. Everything had happened so fast, my mind was buzzing all over the place. I did my best to analyze the situation. I was 100 percent positive I wasn’t on my balcony anymore. The grass underneath my hands and my knees felt cold, but plush and my heart was smashing into my chest like a jack-hammer, making it difficult to hear anything.

I opened my eyes.

The first thing I saw was the long grass in front of me. My hands were clinging onto it like my life depended on it. It was dark—Night still—and the moon was the only source of light. I willed myself to stop shaking and try to get a grip.

“Maggie...”

My eyes snapped up.

Jackson was sitting not a meter away, his hands reached out towards me as if I was about to fall over. I tried to crawl away. My eyes darted from side to side, trying to find a place to run too. This was when I discovered where I was; at the top of the trail near my house. It was the place I took my dog for a walk every Saturday, and the place I met Jackson. What was going on...?

My stomach lurched.

I staggered to a nearby tree and started violently throwing up. Jackson appeared at my side and pulled my hair off my face. I tried to protest, but I just felt so weak. Once I’d finished, my knees buckled, but he caught me before I hit the ground.

He placed me down, back in my previous spot and sat beside me. I wanted to say something, I had so many questions, but all that came out was a strange, mangled crying sound.

“It’s alright, I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll explain everything very soon,” he whispered, so quietly that it was only just audible.

I closed my eyes again. No matter how much I hated it, I was pleased to hear his voice. He always sounded so sure of everything. Jackson’s was a voice that I trusted, even under these circumstances.

He hushed me and looked to the tree tops above us; I followed suit. A large shadow flew past and made an eerie, ghostly moaning sound. Jackson’s hand flew over my mouth again and prevented my scream from coming out.

After a good few minutes of being frozen in fear, Jackson leaned in close and whispered “I’m going to move my hand. Promise me you won’t scream?”

It took a moment before I nodded. He hesitated, but slowly shifted it away from my mouth. I’m not going to lie, I did very seriously contemplate screaming anyway and jumping off the side of the hill, but it didn’t seem worth it in the end. He sighed with relief and ran a hand through his hair – a small gesture I had seen him do before. The familiarity of it was comforting.

“What’s going on?” My voice was harsh and raspy. I sounded worse than I’d imagined.

He gave me a stern look and took a deep breath in, “I think I should take you home first.”

“How did I even get here?” I asked, completely baffled by the thought.

“I flew you here, and now I’m going to fly you back.”

My jaw dropped wide open. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be angry.

“Is this a joke?”

“No.” He stood gracefully and took a long stride backwards, “please don’t scream, that will only end in tears.”

I shot him the most confused look I could muster. Then he did something that surprised the daylights out of me—pulled his shirt off. My eyes widened to an embarrassing size and I turned my head away. I complained into my shoulder, “What do you think you're—”

“No, you need to see this.”

He sounded serious. I waited a moment, and then hesitantly turned my head back, making a point of only looking at his face, even though it felt just as wrong. His eyes were closed and palms were face up.

In a soft flash of light, two pure white wings sprouted from behind him. My hands slapped over my mouth; I didn’t want this to end in tears, but I really needed to scream. He opened his eyes and his hands dropped to his side. There was an long silence as he waited for me to respond. I pulled my hands off my mouth and steadied my blank expression, even though I couldn’t believe what was happening.

“...are....those...”

‘Real?’ I was trying to say, but I whispered it so quietly that there was no way he could have heard it.

But I was wrong. “Yes,” he responded sternly.

As I sat there and stared in awe of the winged man in front of me, I felt a strange sense of tranquility. My safety was not in question anymore.

I shook my head, “you...really did...fly...me....” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

He nodded and knelt down to my level. I jumped slightly when his large elegant wings moved to fold up behind him. My head hadn’t stopped shaking. I never thought about.....angels before, if that’s what he was. The fact that there was one standing right before me was pure evidence....and I couldn’t think of any other explanation. Nothing but pleading insanity. I suddenly felt sick again.

I spun around and dry reached onto to grass behind me—there was absolutely nothing left in my stomach. He didn’t run to my side this time, he just sat back and let it happen. I watched my hands trembling violently against the grass. I was cold. I was cold and weak and tired. I just wanted to go home.

I started to cry again.

“I’m so sorry Maggie, this is all my fault. I didn’t know how to tell you... would you let me take you home?” he said politely.

All I wanted in the world at that moment was to be home. Did I mind him taking me? No. I felt awful. I didn’t need any time to think. I nodded.

He swiftly moved to my side and placed his arm under my knees. I subconsciously wiggled away from his touch, but he ignored me, placing the other arm under my back.

“Close your eyes, this won’t take long.”

I couldn't have shut them any tighter.