Ideas for stories

“Fly.” He said.

“What?” I looked at him, terrified.

“She’s afraid.”

“You know how to fly.” He said flatly.

“No I don’t.” I was frozen in place.

He closed his eyes and his face darkened into an impatient demeanor. “Take a step forward, then another, and when there’s no ground beneath your feet…” He paused at seeing her blank expression. Why was she acting as though this were a foreign concept to her? “You fly.”

“I don’t know how to fly.” I saw his anger and took it on as my own. I was frustrated, manifested atop a cliff where it was freezing cold, pitch black skyline with no end in sight and the ocean hungrily and chaotically roaring for my blood to spill beneath us.

“It’s not something you need to learn.” His face lost all tension as he turned his head to the side, he seemed to focus his vision on something far away or someone she had been unable to see.

“You know how to do it already.”

“No.” I was still angry. “I don’t.”

He sighed loudly. “The knowledge is there.” He announced. “It’s part of you.”

“I don’t have wings.” I said.

Both of them laughed. “You don’t need wings to fly.”

“Fine then, manifest some wings if you feel you need them.” He continued laughing.

I tried to imagine wings on my back. They’d protrude from my shoulder blades which always stuck out. I thought if I’d had wings they’d be black and the feathers would be large, each one as big as my head. The wings would rise high above me and extend longer than my feet if I’d stood on level ground, but I wouldn’t need them on level ground because the wings would appear when I needed to fly.

“Take the first step.”

I did as I was told and stepped uncomfortably close to the edge of what we’ll call a cliff though I’m sure there’s a better name for it. I wasn’t about to jump off the cliff, even if my friends were about to do it.

“Fly.” He corrected. “We’re not jumping.”

I imagined myself lifting into the air and away from them, rising above and not standing there dumbfounded. Nothing happened, I remained in place and terrified.

“Now take the second step.”

“I can’t. I’ll fall.” I could feel my heart begin to race. Once it started racing it would beat out of control and this is where I’d expected to die, in a dream with the two of them learning whatever it was they were forever attempting to teach me.

“If you say you’ll fall then you’ll fall.” He scoffed, looking away.

I hated him; he was always taller than me, more muscular and with thicker longer hair than mine. His voice was deeper, he was clever where I was naïve and he was smarter in general, his skin was always warm and I loved him more than I’d loved anybody for as long as I could remember but I also hated him. You can’t have one without the other.

“Maybe I would fly if you’d teach me.” I started to feel the fire of rage bubbling up from within and once I’d hit the point of it reaching my vocal cords I was about to lose it. He knew this, took delight in it.

“You already know how to fly.” He whispered. That tiny whisper was all it took.

“I’ll take my leave.”

“IF!” I shouted. “IF I know how to fly, why am I still standing here with YOU?” The malice in the way I said the word ‘you’ was palpable. He always brought out the darkness within me but if you never learn to surface and tame your inner demons you’ll remain forever ugly inside.

He grinned widely, crossed his arms and took a step away from me. He took a few steps back and ran in graceful wide strides until the last step before falling off the edge of the cliff when huge dark swords shot out of his back and his wings unfolded. He lifted into the air and planned to leave me there angry and flawed.

But that anger made me run after him even though it meant jumping off of the cliff. I fell, of course, because I couldn’t fly even if the knowledge was supposedly there. Even if I could have imagined myself out of a wet paper bag, I fell down toward the water and half a cliff later I was still staring at his blurred figure flying up toward the darkness.

Before I hit the water I found myself standing at the top of the cliff again, both of them on either side of me as though nothing had happened. As though somebody had hit the reset button.

“You tried, I’m proud of you.”

“I told you I couldn’t fly.” I yelled at him. He’d never been cross with me but I’ll yelled at him regardless.

“You have to keep trying.” He said, less coldly this time.

“I just fell off a cliff!” I shouted. I might’ve started crying.

And what I wanted was for him to hold my hand through the learning process. I wanted him to show me step by step, I wanted him to make it easier for me. But he never did.

We met nightly and the air was always so cold though I don’t know if it was from the lack of love or the mist rising from the water below. I wanted us to fly through the night together majestically like a couple of children of the night soul mates taking back the skies of that realm. He was right, when I learned to fly the wings disappeared and it turned out I hadn’t needed them, and I hadn’t needed to learn anything but rather to stop overthinking and to do what I had been able to do all along. He was always right about these things, and although it was half a lifetime ago, I still don’t listen to him. And he’s still a big dumb jerkface that I could never see myself without.

Notes