The Annex

"He's a greedy little thing, must have taken it from the fridge when I wasn't looking," Ms Finch laughed airily, dropping her dressing gown a little lower down her bare shoulders. The cop noddded.

"I understand completely, must be a real job for you, 12 kids on your hands,"

"A job? Hardly, I just adore children. But for him to go and give it to all his friends, I'd give him a time out if food poisoning hadn't got him first. That should be punishment enough for the poor little tyke," she shook her head solemnly, patting the bed covers around Jackson's sleeping face.

"Alright then Ms Finch, it seems this is all a simple accident, tell the kids I hope they get well soon," The cop nodded and made his way back downstairs to his vehicle.

There was the low rumble of an engine starting and Ms Finch's smile dropped. Her eyes bore into me and I cringed, not because of the guilt thats wasn’t aching my heart, but because the stinging was still ricocheting the cavities of my mind. I hoped, like I had time and time before, that this was its crescendo.

"Croxley Hall- Monday morning, unless you'd prefer military school," she said, eyes burning.

I opened my mouth to clarify that yes, military school would’ve been much preferable but she smiled her creepy, threatening smile and my vocal cords went limp.

"And starting tomorrow, you will wait on my niece."

"I will what?" I raised my brows.

"Embry has horse riding at 7 tomorrow morning; you'll need to be ready by 5:30. Agnes will wake you at half past 4,"

"I'll be awake by 5:15; I don't need one and a half hours to get ready."

"Embry's boots, saddle and helmet need cleaning. Her outfit is in the wash and Mauve who does the laundry doesn’t come in until 10:00. If any of these chores aren't done by 5:30, there will be consequences."

Pulling her gown back up her shoulders, Jennifer Finch left the room. I realized my mouth was still open from shock.

Embry? I had to wait on Ginger?

For the millionth time my thoughts were interrupted by the insufferable stinging, upset that my attention had wavered. This time I was sure it had hit its peak. I doubled over, driving my nails into the thin skin dressing my skull. I was thrown back –invonluntarily- to my feet which stumbled to the edge of Jackson's bed. I fought the motion with no avail. My head was forced down to meet Jackson's and I opened my mouth to apologize, but he didn’t stir. I tried to bring a hand to my head, to rub away the pain but an invisible force was holding it back. I was stilled, physically and mentally but again, involuntarily.

There was a pulse, warm and wet, as if I was living under water and a whale just farted. My body suddenly relaxed and I fell heavily to the floor. Gasping, I heaved myself up; I felt terrible. Bile rose to my throat and I groped for the rubbish bin under the bed. I raised a hand to push the hair away; heat was literally radiating from my head.

And then more stinging, but it wasn’t in my brain; it was in my back. My teeth came down hard on my bottom lip to keep from screaming and my hands itched and scratched at my shoulder blades. Something was there, chewing through my skin. Something soft and fury- a spider? I yelped and clawed furiously- I hated spiders.

There wasn’t just one, there were thousands of them. The more I pulled them off the harder they attacked, biting, cutting, piercing my felsh. I pulled a clump off and was sure some skin had come with it. I brought my hands to my lap and stared in horror at the cluster of white feathers, glued with blood to my palms.

What's happening to me?

Abruptly, the pain ceased. I slowly got to my feet; my body felt much heavier than before. The queasiness was still there, rolling around my stomach but there was a difference: I was in control. Stunned by the recent events, I made my way tot he bathroom, feet on autopilot. The water was cool and refreshing as I watched the watered-down blood swirl down the plug hole. In the mirror a pale, sickly girls looked back at me.

Food poisoning isn’t contaigous...maybe I was wrong?

As I turned to leave, I caight a glimpse of white contrast against my dark skin. I paused in mid stride, then walked backwards back to the sink.

Food poisoning doesn’t bring on hallucinations either...

Two magnificent wings fluttered lazily at my back, starting at my shoulder blades and stretching down, down, down to the backs of my knees. I gasped in awe, turning sideways to get a better look. I reached out a hand and carressed the sily white feathers, some as tiny as my finger nails, others as long as my forearm. Gaping, I pulled off my shirt. More feathers sprouted, making the wings evermore vast.

My head began to spin again- I really was sick. Much to the discomfort of the wings, I pulled my shirt back on and pulled the feathers through the holes they ripped while sprouting. I stumbled back to my room and fell asleep as soon as I hit the mattress.

The covers were pulled up to my neck but I was still shivering. Outside the forst bitten window pain it was still fairly dark; nobody had come to wake me up but feeling the soft tickle of feathers on my back I decided it would be safer to just get up then.

I woefully pushed the off the covers and sat up stiffly. I rummaged through my bags for the biggest, baggiest shirt I had and used it to hide away my feathers. It barely reached my knees and about four inches of wing were still visible. I groaned and wondered if Jennifer Louise would have believed me if I claimed to be sick- after all, it wasn’t a lie. My temperature was through the roof and my stomach was still catapulting bile every few minutes. Therefore, I should’ve been wondering if she’d care that I was sick, not if she’d buy it.

I quickly pulled on a pair of loose cotton pants; the feathers bulged at my ass but I didn’t care. Sleepily, I stumbled into the hall. Agnes, who was on her way to my room, saw me, nodded and shuffled back down the stairs. I scuffled down after her and into the garden where a pair of muddy boots awaited me on the doorstep. Nobody had bothered to clean them after last week’s riding lesson, so the mud was stuch hard. I grabbed a stick from under the apple tree and began to chip off the muck.

"You'll scratch them like that! Do it with your hands!"

I didn’t look up, just dropped the stick and began scratching at the mud with my fingers. I wasn’t in the mood for an argument, especially with Ginger.

Embry eyed me up and down, searching for something to pick at. Most of the the mud was gone and I reached for the bucket of soapy water, prepared earlier by Agnes. The rest of the mud softened and dripped down my arm as I squeezed excess water out of the sponge. I dried off the boots and reached for the polish. Embry cleared her throar; I looked up, hands still working on the boots.

"I saw you last night," she said wickedly.

My heart stopped, my hands quavered, my breathing shivered. Embry noticed my actions and I realised that I’d just confirmed her suspicions.

"I saw you last night, kissing Jackson."

I took in a big, grateful breath of relief.

Is that all? Wait!

"What?" I narrowed my eyes at her smirking face.

"I saw you last night kissing Jackson, no wonder you were so worried, you pedo!"

Way to go all third grade on me...

I decided to ignore her, let her think what she wanted. She wasn’t significant enough for her opinions to matter. If that was the best she had against me, she really hadn’t been paying enough attention. Unsatisfied by my silence, Ginger stalked around so her shadow fell over my squatting figure.

"But I guess that's in your nature, right Heron?"
Silence.
"You can't help it that nobody wants you,"
Silence is my agony
"Including your mother,"
Ignore her.
"I almost feel sorry for you,"
Ignore her!
"Not all of us have the blessing of being white."

I didn’t know which came first: the shock or the anger that people like Embry still existed! But one thing was for certain, the anger was so much grater.

My fist connected with Embry’s right eye, catapulting her backwards onto the wet lawn. She gaped at me and screamed at the red mess dripping off her chin. Pain driven tears fell down her cheeks, making the blood ever more salty. My knuckled were tingling, shaking with adrenaline. My heart was swelling; my brain was numb with satisfaction. Standing there, breathing hard, looking into the wretched eyes with not a pinch of guilt, I felt powerful. I was in control and by the look on Embry’s face, she knew it too well.

All too soon there was a familiar lurch in my stomach. The pain was back, along with the bile; hot and threatening to spill out my mouth. A last look back at the bleeding girl and I was off into the shrubbery, the depths of the garden. I heared the sliding door swish open and people running to the hysterical child’s aid. Screeching voices called me back but I was already at the fence. Then one voice- one deep, raspy voice, emerging out of it’s master’s chest called out my name, and it wasn’t in rage.

My head whipped around; Aidan was racing Ms Finch up the lawn. I hesitated, then, deciding her lead was too great for him to catch up, I grasped the top of the fence and hoisted myself over. Ignoring the splinters niggling at my fingertips, I legged it across the road and down the street, taking random turns every now and then, only slowing down when an alley came into view. I took a left down the alleyway; everything was splashed in a greyish light. A rusty ladder caught my eye and I followed it’s ruts up to the metal balcony of the fire escape. It was sure to lead to a dead end- the escape belonged to a nightclub and I was certain it was locked. But something told me, (instinct?) that this was the way to go and without another thought I was tugging on the ladder, checking for stability. It seemed safe and with a little difficulty I scrambled up, not used to the extra weight the wings had brought. I got to the first balcony and leaned over the railings, tilting my head up in awe at the building’s height- there must have been flats on top of the club. Catching my breath, I started up the flight of stairs, keeping an eye on the activities below through the multiple holes spotting the iron floor.

I tried every door on the way up, they were all open but unexpected second thoughts told me to keep travelling towards the sky. God only knows how many stairs and balconies later, I reached the roof. Legs feeling like lead, I stumbled to the edge and cautiously peeked over. It was high. Now what?

My wings gave a flutter of encouragement and I inhaled sharply in shock at the thought that had just traipsed into my mind. I gave the edge another nervous peep and my wings began flapping ever more furiously. There was no time to argue- my subconscious had taken over. I bit down hard on my lip as my feet maneuvered me to the centre of the roof, the sound of crunching gravel grating my ear drums. I counted- it was ten quick steps before I could take no more. I squeezed my eyes tight as my feet left the floor and my wings caught the wind. There was a last second of struggle as my arms flailed blindly for the edge. I felt the crunchy gravel graze my finger tips but it was yanked out of my reach as my body rushed to the ground.