Xx/16/xxxx
        Dear Diary,
I haven’t written for the last couple days – not because I’ve been too busy, but because I’ve been coming to terms with something in myself. I’ve been on edge… you know how you get twitchy when there’s a noise just on the edge of hearing? Well, it’s been like that for me; like someone was constantly whispering, just too soft to make out the words
        Today I figured out what I was hearing.
        Wings. The sound of wings fluttering, like a flock of startled doves taking off, or the sounds of pigeons wasting time around the subway station. Wherever I go, whatever I do, I hear them. Just around the corner. Just on the other side of the wall. Just out of sight. I’m scared, but strangely excited. I haven’t told anyone about the sounds yet, and I’m not sure whom I would talk to.

Xx/17/xxxx
        School today. The fluttering followed me to the bus. It seemed louder today then yesterday, but in no way loud enough to drown out the screaming of the middle-school kids on the bus ride… I wanted to kill them. Every time their high-pitched voices scraped against my brain I wanted to scream. I suppose I was in a worse mood then usual. I knew I had had a dream last night, but I just couldn’t remember it. I woke up exhausted and annoyed; straining my mind to recall what I was sure was a beautiful experience. The exhaustion stayed with me during the day. I kept seeing things out of the corners of my eyes. Little things, little glows, like everything was bathed in sunlight on the edges of my vision. It got worse the more people were around me.
        Amy told me she broke up with her girlfriend… she seemed pretty depressed, but I’m not sure what I can do for her. She looked awful; I can’t help but think that she’s taking it really hard. I know her home situation isn’t helping her either…

Xx/18/xxxx
        I’ve almost gotten used to the constant rustling and sliding of feathers that I hear. I still haven’t told anyone. All these strange changes have made me more alert and observant, and I’ve noticed that both the fluttering and the light increase when there are more people around me. The lunchroom is almost deafening, and filled with a diffuse glow. This glow seems brighter around the back and shoulders, and I was sure I almost saw faint shapes on the back of a couple people.
        Amy’s started cutting again, I think. She’s wearing her bracelets again, and she’s got that look in her eyes… I’m worried. I didn’t get a chance to talk to her today, but I’ve resolved to track her down tomorrow.

Xx/19/xxxx
        I woke today with a strange feeling of completeness. My morning routine had a dreamlike quality to it; everything seemed steeped in soft, blurring light. It was beautiful… I didn’t want to leave. Eventually, I went downstairs for breakfast. To my surprise, I noticed my parents and brother had a glow to them as well. It was definitely centered on the back and shoulders. I’m confused to why I didn’t notice my parents having this… aura… before, but it’s quite evident now, albeit faint.
        The bus was bearable, because I was so absorbed in studying the people around me. Everyone had a glow, though some were brighter then others, and a few had definite shapes in the light. I spent the most time looking at this handful of people. There seemed to be no definite pattern between present between the group: they were all from different social groups, they were a range from rich to poor, had different ages, genders… I couldn’t find a single similarity between them, except for the faint sketching of light coming from their shoulders and trailing down their backs. I almost forgot to get off; I was so fascinated by it.
        The day passed like a blurred summer dream. Only one thing stands out in my memory from today, and even that haunts my mind like a glimpse of rot in a healthy garden. A surge in the sound of wings drew me into the boy’s restroom, next to the locker rooms. I was cautious, forewarned by a strange fear that I could not rationalize. At first I thought the room was empty, but then I heard a faint thrashing and the sound of low, coarse laughter. I knew that sound, having heard it often directed at me by the local jock population in scorn of my art. Leaning around the corner, I saw a half-dozen beefy football players clustered around one of the stalls, holding down a skinny, struggling figure. The flailing increased as I heard a muffled shriek, a splash, and the sound of the toilet flushing. Laughter, cruel and horrible, along with sneered “faggot”s, accompanied the figure being hauled out of the stall and thrown against the wall. I gasped, and frantically covered my mouth. I knew the boy, he was one of the stereotypical nerds at out school, and had a significant social retardation. He had a history of being bullied. What shocked me, though, were the shapes on his back that became more and more well defined with every kick the jocks delivered to his stomach.
        Wings. Shining white wings, drawn of out light itself, folded against his back. I ran, the roar surging in my ears and my heart filling with a horrible foreboding at the sight of his wings beginning to spread.

Xx/20/xxxx
        10:10 - John, the boy I saw yesterday, was not at school today. It bothered me enough that I eventually went to the counseling center and asked where he was. The counselor looked up at me sharply and started asking me an awful lot of questions about why I wanted to know and what I had been doing yesterday… I managed to get the fact that he was in the hospital out of her before I fled her torrent of inquiries. I didn’t think the boys had hurt him that much, so his being hospitalized puzzled me. It made me feel uneasy.
        I think I’ve reached a plateau with my ability to hear and see the wings… things aren’t getting any stronger or clearer now. I’m glad, as I thought that if the wing noises kept getting louder, it might do something to my hearing. Amy wasn’t in school today, and I didn’t see her yesterday either.
        1:30 - A rumor is floating around. It seems that someone attempted suicide last night in the school. I had seen one of the boy’s bathrooms taped off, but thought it was just repairs as per usual… for some reason I’m really nervous now. I keep thinking about John.

Xx/21/xxxx
        8:20 - The bus drove past Amy’s house, and I almost had a heart attack. She was sitting in her window on the top floor, looking out. I clearly saw, as the bus sped by, a pair of shining wings framing her in the window. The sight filled me with terror like I’ve never felt before, and I’ve promised myself that I’ll go see her today, even if I have to skip school to do it.
        12:00 – I haven’t been able to think of anything except Amy’s wings for the last four hours. I’m leaving now, to walk to her place.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I write now only to pass on what I have learned to someone who is experiencing the same things. This diary can serve me no longer. I must leave, now, to travel and put my knowledge to use helping those I see about to fly. I will recount what happened, and then write no more.

The walk to Amy’s was cold. March is steel gray skies and biting wind on it’s less attractive days, and that day it seemed pulled straight from a Lovecraft scene. I hugged my coat to myself, walking quickly, partly to keep myself warm and partly because of the gnawing panic that was slowly mounting in my gut. I found myself sprinting as I turned onto her street, and when her house rose up in front of me I had to stop and gasp for breath. The blue paint of the three-story was washed out against the monochrome sky, and all the windows were closed.
        Movement caught my eye, and I craned my head up. Amy was standing on the roof, facing me, looking up into the sky. A magnificent pair of wings flowed from her shoulders; great spreads of white light fanning silently against the wind. Her hair streamed out behind her, and her face looked distant, as if she was looking at a different world. Dozens of red lines crisscrossed her wrists and arms, some obviously recent.
        She noticed me.
        Her gaze was almost painful in it’s otherworldliness as her eyes met mine. She stepped to the edge. My face must have screamed pleas – she smiled slightly and shook her head. Her wings spread wide and beat the air as she proudly lifted her chin, eyes fixed on some far off heaven.
        She stepped off, the sound of flight roaring in the air.

        The wings did not stop her fall.

        She landed in front of me. I will never forget the sound.

        The wings shattered silently, flashing off in all directions like the slivers of light that they were, like the haze of red that spattered me and fogged my glasses.

        Silence.