Teach me how to fly

Prologue

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PROLOGUE

Fear (noun) : a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined.

Avery's P.O.V.

As far as I can remember myself, being alone in the dark scared me to death. It gave me feelings of insecurity, self-consciousness and fear. Not the “monsters-in-closet” fear. More of the “monsters-in-soul” one. I guess that’s what made me and Ali best friends- our common past of fear, darkness and parental abuse.

We met at middle school when I realized we had something in common during PE.

After the lesson of P.E. that day, I realized I had forgotten my hoodie in the locker room. Going back in, I saw a black-haired girl changing into her normal clothes. I couldn’t understand. The lesson was over more than 15 minutes ago, why was she still in here? I figured out the answer when I saw a huge purplish bruise on her right arm. I, unconsciously, ran my fingers over my forearm. I stepped in the locker room and coughed nervously. The girl got dressed quickly and glanced at me before focusing her gaze on the floor.

“I’m Avery,” I said.

No response.

“What’s your name?” I insisted.

“I-I’m… Ali,” she muttered and then made her way to the door.

I let her go. She was afraid of me, probably. I mean, I had to work really hard in order not to be afraid of everyone around me.

Five days later, I saw her sitting on a bench at school, all alone. I decided to talk to her again. Without asking, I took a seat next to her and felt her body stiffen beside me.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” I said.

She nodded once.

I sighed. “I know what you’re going through”

She widened her eyes before turning to me.

“H-How?!” she stuttered in shock.

“I saw the bruise on your arm.”

“Th-that doesn’t mean you can understand me.”

I pulled the sleeve of my light blue top up revealing a bruise identical to hers on my forearm.

“You sure?” I asked.

“Your mother or father?” she asked playing with the tip of her black ponytail nervously.