Gears

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This is just the start of a story I'm working on. Will update more as I keep writing.

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On her fifth birthday, Lia was sitting on a hospital bed, having her wings severed and smiling.

She was smiling because the pretty woman called Stefanie had given her a Hershey’s chocolate bar and had said she didn’t have to go back home anymore. Stefanie had come to her house and said that everything was going to be okay, and shhhhh don’t cry everything will be fine just fine just fine.

Now Lia was 13, and she couldn’t sleep. Nightmares. Lia the windup toy, Lia the marionette. Her body jerking in rhythm to the movements of a machine she didn’t understand. Gears, wires, labirynths. The clicking of clockwork, noise of the orderly chaos to which she belonged. 

According dully glowing face of her alarm clock, she had been lying awake for two hours. She could hear the steady breathing of her foster parents in the room next to hers. Echoes of her dream still ringing in her ears, she was afraid to go back to sleep.

Tracing her left hand along her back, her fingers touched the scars that all those surgeries had left behind, the bit of not-quite-human embedded in her flesh. She had been like this for years– yet sometimes she still had a jarring sensation when she was reminded of this part of her that made her stronger than others, that made her a freak.

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⏰ Last updated: Aug 04, 2012 ⏰

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