And he fell through the clouds, the mist wetting his wings. His wings were wrapped protectively around his thin frame, the feathers shiny with the water of the clouds. He knew he would die; his wings were clipped, falling from hundreds of feet above the ground. There was no way to survive. He never was optimistic -- he could remember when he was just a boy how his parents had called him pessimistic. "Oh, him." They'd say. "He never really was that positive." But he knew his parents loved him, whatever they said. It wasn't that he was a pessimist. It was simply that he accepted things as they were. And here, no matter how he tried to console himself, he knew he wouldn't survive this. He couldn't. And did he care? Not as much as he once would have.
Once he would have fought. He would have done anything, anything to survive. Because once he was in love. When he was young, he'd had his life all planned out. His wedding, children, even what kind of bride he would have. He'd been teased for it, made fun of, called a girl. But he hadn't minded; planning made him happy, it made him feel safe. And then.. then he met the love of his life. A beautiful girl named Amelia, although she sometimes preferred Amy. Fair skin, with full pink lips. Gray eyes that seemed to hold bits of the moonlight itself. Her auburn hair reflected the sunlight in such a beautiful way, it was almost foreign to the man. And he fell in love.
He thought Amelia loved him, too. She always said she did. Maybe she really did -- but when the time came for him to propose, she refused. He could remember it exactly; she'd bit her lip, her shoulders had shook a bit, and her eyes had widened. Her eyes refused to meet his gaze, looking everywhere but him, and she told him. She told him everything. She said she didn't love him, she never did. Amelia had told him to no longer talk to her. And she'd run away. He felt a chill run down his spine thinking about it, and he felt a freezing feeling fill his chest as he remembered her looking over her shoulder, her pale face with an unreadable expression plastered over it. She'd whispered, so faintly he wasn't sure if he'd actually heard it, "I'm sorry". Two words, two tiny little words, as if they could make up for what she'd done to him. She took his heart and split it into a million pieces, stomping on it and burning it alive. Two words did nothing.
So he ran. He ran, just like she ran. She ran back to her father, back to her fancy castle and her rich clothes. But he had no place to run; no place to stop, to settle down. So he kept running, and he never stopped. Until he met a witch. Her offer seemed desirable -- she promised the pain would go away, and he would never have to worry about Amelia again. She said that even if she saw him, she wouldn't recognize him, and would ignore him. It was perfect. The pain was almost unbearable; he couldn't live with it any longer. And when he was ready, the young witch had given him herbal tea to put him to sleep. At first it did nothing, he remembered, but then it got fuzzy. His vision had darkened, and finally turned to black. In his dreams, he could hear screaming. The image of Amy looking over her shoulder, whispering those two words, kept replaying in his mind. He wanted to die. He couldn't do this anymore. But just like the real world, the dream faded to black, and he got to enjoy a peaceful sleep.
When he had woken up, the witch was slumped over beside him, asleep. Her black hair was a mess, her glasses on the tip of her nose. He'd tried to use his hand to shake her shoulder, wanting to ask her how it'd went, but in place of an arm and hand, he'd had wings and feathers. So, like any normal person, he'd screamed. Anybody in his situation would have, and they would have done it again just like he when instead of an ordinary human scream, he heard the shrieking call of a bird. This woke the witch up, and she stared at him. The regret was obvious in her eyes, tears threatening to spill over her bottom lashes. "I'm sorry." She had whispered, voice cracking. "I tried.. I tried to do it right, but I couldn't. How could I mess that up? Nobody could mess that up but me. I'm such a failure. I wanted to make you look different, but I wasn't trying to make you a bird!" She was full-out sobbing now, and the man - bird - had hopped off the bed, still disoriented with his new body, and sat next to her. He didn't make a sound, just listening to her quiet crying. She'd stopped eventually, and holding him on her hand, she'd said -- and he could remember exactly -- "I'm sorry I did this to you. I didn't mean to, honestly. I'm not.. I'm not an evil witch, I'm not like some out there. I tried to make the heartbreak go away, and to make you look like a different man. But I failed. Since you have no place to go, maybe you could stay here? I know you're not a real animal, but you could be my 'familiar'."
He'd stayed. He'd stayed for a long time; in fact, he'd never really left. They were on a ledge when it happened, a bit of a cliff high above the ground. The witch, who's name was Alice, was talking about her day. She'd gone into town to see a sick patient of hers, and the sick patient happened to be one who owned multiple homes. He'd offered to give her free rent for several years in return for her curing him, and although she protested, she'd given in eventually. It wasn't that she didn't want the house -- it was a beautiful little cottage near the center of town, trees all around it and so many beautiful flowers, too many to count. It was that she felt she was being overpaid. She didn't want to be known as selfish, even though personally, the man didn't think it would be. "So, Julian, you don't mind if I practice some spells, right?", She had said, for Julian was the mans name. He had shook his head, and for the next few minutes, she'd practiced her magic, levitating leaves and healing bugs. But that was when it all went wrong.
She'd blacked out, like she sometimes did. Her figure slumped over, much like when Julian first woke up as a bird. Julian wasn't scared; she was usually fine, waking up after a few hours, or even minutes. But she'd never been practicing magic when it happened, and this caused a disaster. As she got into a pose that looked more like an ordinary sleeping one, she tossed and turned, and as she moved, spells were cast upon the bird. His wings were clipped, and he felt a spark. Although he didn't know what the spark did, what he did know was that he was being pushed towards the ledge by an unseen force, and fast. Alice -- or Ali, as he liked to call her -- wasn't a strong witch, nor a mean one. She would never do this if she was conscious, if she knew what was going on. But this changed nothing, and soon he was falling fast.
And that was how he came to be in this situation, falling through the sky. He was reaching the ground, fast. So he braced himself, preparing for the impact. He never felt it. Right as he was about to hit the floor, his world abruptly turned black, and time paused for him. To anybody else, a passerby, they would see a bright, almost blinding light. Someone with particularly keen vision might be able to see a darker figure within the light, slowing growing larger. And some, who looked in the right places, could see and hear a young witch shouting, before hopping on her broomstick and half flying, half falling down the ledge and to the floor near the light. They would see her walk into the light, and if they stuck around until the light dimmed, they would see the same witch from before crouched beside a handsome young man, holding his hand in hers. The man wasn't awake, but he wasn't dead, even though from so far away, nobody but the witch or the man could know this.
As he came to, the man simply saw Ali, her blue eyes filled with tears of joy. "You're alive, I can't believe you're alive." She said in disbelief. "I'm so sorry. I'm so focused on helping others, I don't take care of myself. I don't rest enough, and you paid the price. I'm so sorry." It was then the man realized, she had taken the pain away. But not by any spell or herbal tea. The witch had taken the pain, the pain of a broken heart away, by healing it. She'd healed his broken heart, because Julian had fallen in love with her, even more so than with Amelia. For the first time in such a long while, Julian felt happy, and he let a weak smile cover his face. "Don't worry about it." His voice was rough with misuse, but from the grin Ali gave him, she didn't mind. "I-I love you, Julian." She said. She looked at him, and although it was the cheesiest moment the man had ever been in, he smiled back, and using an elbow to hold himself up, he brushed some strands of black hair away from her ear so he could whisper back,
"I love you too."
But what he didn't know, was that that wasn't the end. It was just the beginning of the end. His past would return, and for all the pain he'd gone through, it would be worse. Oh, so much worse.
