This roof is my most favorite one in the whole city.
So high there’s nothing above you but birds and planes.
We would spend hours on that roof talking about how we would fly away.
Escape like the birds around us.
The last time I saw her all she would talk about was how she was going to fly away. She had tickets she said. Could go anywhere.
You don’t need tickets I replied, just spread your wings and fly!
She laughed and called me an idiot.
A dull ache opened a maw in my stomach and filled my throat.
I felt my neck and shoulders tense. Sweat prickled my skin and my mouth went dry.
Always the first to name call and make me feel small. She looked out across the roofs below, a carpet of tiles stretching for miles.
Why do you have to be so dumb, she asked. I reached out to touch her, to try and give her some small comfort.
You’ll find your wings I said.
A little pressure was all it took.
Her gasp of surprise became a hoarse call, like the caw of a crow.
Looking down I could see red pooling beneath her and streaming out like wings.
I always knew she would fly.
