Pale Wings

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Sometimes all you need is someone to talk to, and that someone may be closer than you think...

Submitted: March 05, 2011

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Submitted: March 05, 2011

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On an old park bench, opposite a thin, shallow river, a boy sits in waiting. He doesn’t know who he’s waiting for, and he’s not even sure why. Many people had walked past during the time he had been sitting there, but all had ignored him, some had even sat next to him and not taken any notice of his existence.
He was sitting on this bench, on yet another cold winter evening, when he saw a girl, about the same age as himself, approach. She was, in his opinion, the most beautiful girl in the area. Her long brown hair tied back out of her face, showing off her shining brown eyes. She sat next to him, and for a few moments it seemed as though she too didn’t notice him. She was despondent, the way she sat showed that; she slumped in the bench, her head in her hands. She glanced to the left, and noticed the boy staring at her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Was someone sitting here?”
The boy shook his head and looked away quickly, too embarrassed to speak. The two sat in silence for what seemed to be an eternity. The sky gradually grew darker, the moon steadily became more visible, and yet the girl still sat in the same way, her eyes focused on the floor, occasionally taking a glance at the boy.
“You were here before I got here, right?” She asked.
The boy nodded, not daring to speak.
“So I guess that you have a few problems, too?”
“No… I’m just waiting for someone… someone important…” he replied, his voice almost inaudible.
“Whoever they are, it doesn’t seem like they’re turning up,” the girl said.
“They will… one day…”
The girl smiled, she felt that the boy needed to see a happy face. He noticed the girl’s warm smile and blushed, no one had ever noticed him before. He didn’t want to waste this opportunity, so he smiled back.
“I have to go…” he said, slowly rising from the bench.
The girl nodded and stood up with him.
As he walked away, she called to him, “I forgot to ask your name!”
He looked back at the girl and said, “George… my name’s George…” he said this quietly, his voice carried by the breeze.
He turned back and continued to walk away.
The next day, out of curiosity, the girl returned to the bench. Sure enough, George was sitting there. She quickly walked over, trying to hide her enthusiasm.
As she sat, she said, “My name’s Emily, by the way.”
George vaguely smiled. He had not expected Emily to return, but a part of him desperately wanted to see her again.
“Emily,” he said, turning to face her. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
“Do you believe in Guardian Angels?”
“Yeah, I guess I do, why?” Emily said.
“Then do you believe that if someone was in big trouble, whether it be in relation to a family matter or school problem, that your Guardian Angel would show itself to you?” George asked
“Well… maybe…”
George laughed quietly.
“Sometimes all you need is someone to talk to…” he said.
A dog’s bark made Emily look in the other direction, just as George finished his sentence. When she looked back, he was gone.
It was a few days before the two saw each other again. The sky was filled with dark clouds, bringing with them the chance of snow.
They both sat in silence, not knowing how to continue from their last meeting.
“Tell me about your parents, Emily,” George said.
“My parents?” Emily asked, taken aback by the sudden comment. “Why do you want to know about them?”
“It’ll do you good to get some of your emotions of your chest.”
Emily shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“It’s kind of awkward…” She muttered. “But I guess can trust you…”
Emily put her hands on her lap and faced George.
“A few months ago, I found out that I was adopted. My biological parents abandoned me, they thought it’d be better for me to live somewhere else, I suppose. The family I’m living with now, the one that has officially adopted me, they’re just amazing. They’ve given me the best they can give me, and they supported me when I told them I wanted to meet my real parents…” Emily said. “So a few weeks ago, I did meet my mother, my biological one. It was horrible, it seemed as if she didn’t even remember that she had given birth to me… she told me that my father died a long time ago from alcohol abuse, and that if I knew better, I would never had looked for her.”
Emily looked to the floor as tears began to form in her eyes.
“The way she looked at me… the way she spoke to me… I could tell she didn’t care…”
George held Emily’s hand tightly. Warm teardrops landed on his hand.
“It’s OK, you don’t need to tell me anymore…” he said.
Snow began to fall, covering the ground in a blanket of soft white. Emily lifted her head up to look at the sky. The soft flakes gently falling upon her tear stained face.
“That’s all you needed to say…” George whispered, hugging Emily.
Emily opened her eyes a fraction, and saw what seemed to be a pair of large, white wings. A soft warmth enveloped her, making her smile and close her eyes again. When she did reopen her eyes, the surrounding area was completely covered in snow, and George was gone.
A soft white feather lay on her lap. It was a similar colour to the snow which covered the park bench, and the thin, shallow river.


© Copyright 2019 MarkAaron. All rights reserved.

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