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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1575546-Freak-of-Nature-Anise-Brooks
by Isla M
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #1575546
Anise Brooks is part bird. And hell just started in her life.
Chapter One



My name’s Anise Brooke, and I happen to be a living freak of nature. Somehow while my mother was pregnant they managed to infuse avian DNA into me that changed me. Turning out to be a huge success I developed wings, hollow bones and great reflexes. The down points were three things… I wasn’t allowed to fly in the city, I am extremely claustrophobic and… People wanted to do “tests” on me. Tests that could only be preformed when I was dead… So because of that I wasn’t allowed out much. When I did go out I was going to school. Everyday I had to were a huge sweater over my wings because if I was sighted I’d be chased. When I was younger I took it off at school. Later that day I had almost got kidnapped. I just barely got away by hiding in a huge tree in Prospect Park. I learned my lesson then. Later in life while being slightly rebellious, I got caught.

Closing my eyes I breathed in. It was my 5th time sneaking out late at night to stretch my wings. I want allowed to, but I didn’t really care. My mother would murder me if she knew I was standing at the top of Empire Stare. I shuddered from the chilly October weather. The rarely fresh air of New York was cool, and night was refreshing. I opened my eyes and looked down. Below me was rushing traffic and tourists. Above was the cloudy sky. I flexed my wings as far as they would go and dove down in to Manhattan. My wings caught the air letting me glide above the brightly lit busy city. The sensation was amazing. The wind blowing through my long black hair, a surge of adrenalin, and a huge hunger for more speed. I flapped hard and quick, sending me faster through the midnight air. A smile grew on my lips, and I just couldn’t resist the urge to yell with excitement. I spun, veered and dove in-between tall buildings.

I slowed to a stop and perched on the edge of a building, I had flown all the way uptown to about 95th street and 4th avenue. I shook my wings out as rain slowly started to splatter onto the ground around me. Enjoying the rain I extended my wings. They were jet-black but the kind of black that in the light it looks like a dark blue or purple. Both wings were about my height, 5’7”, which is pretty tall for a girl the age of 13. I sat down and crossed my legs over the side of the building I had landed on. I was about to put on the sweater tied around my waist to hide my wings so I could jump down and get something to drink from the deli because my short flight was tiring.

Suddenly, a sharp loud bang rang through the air. I heard something whistle by. I jumped up. I heard a second bang and another whistling noise. Someone was shooting at me! I dove off the building with my wings pressed close to my back. The ground sped toward me and before I crashed into the pavement I extended my wings shooting back up, slicing the air with my freak-show wings. My strategy was to keep moving, like what they do in the movies. I tried not to be an easy target. I zigzagged, twirled, swerved and dove through the Manhattan streets back to the Lower East Side where the apartment I lived in was. The person who had shot was still on my tail. I knew this because a black Jeep Wrangler was following me as much as it could by running through red lights and swerving through angry cars and surprised pedestrians. The roof was down and a Man was leaning over the side with a shotgun like hunters do in the wild trying to get a clear shot of me. The driver was excellent. The aim of the gunner was as well. I know this because several moments later he took another shoot. This time a bullet made its way into my wing. I gasped with confusment and agony. I had never felt anything so painful in my life. My eyes welled with tears. Noticing that I was now near Stuyvesant town came to my advantage. It was similar to a maze… Well, the closet thing to one. I cringed in pain as I tried to lose him. Being successful I turned on a dime and went in the direction of home. I was tired and my eyelids were growing heavy. The bullet wound was gushing blood. I extremely regretted going out. I wanted to lie down and sleep but I couldn’t. Not in till I was home. My rush of adrenalin was keeping me going. My vision was fading. I had lost too much blood. Everything started to spin. My apartment was near. Beginning to lose conciseness I felt limp. I smashed through the window and landed on the floor. All I remember was my mom running in yelling, although I couldn’t understand anything I knew it was out of shock not anger, I remember the strong smell of blood and I remember the pain pulsing through my wounded wing.

X X  X



I awoke to the distant twitter of birds and honking of cars outside. I opened my sleepy eyes and I held my breath. Hoping all that I thought happened was a dream. I then noticed my broken window with a hole about the size of a 13-year old bird-girl. I sighed and sat up. I attempted to stretch my wounded wing, but then gasped and grabbed the wound. It burned with pain.

“Ow, ow, ow!” I said through my clenched jaw. The wound had been cleaned, but the bullet was still there and I could feel it. The small piece of metal was not budging. My mother then walked in with a tray with loads of food on it. On it was two apples, a muffin, eggs sunny-side up of course, waffles and 3 glasses of orange juice. Another thing about being part avian is that you end up having a bigger appetite than normal. Also after being chased, shot and smashing through a window is hungering. My mom didn’t look very happy with me at all. Saying nothing she placed the tray on my lap. Completely forgetting that I was in pain I started shoveling down food. She sat on the edge of my bed for a while and looked out the window. She then looked at me stood and left the room. I knew she was really mad. She was containing it very well though. About thirty seconds later she returned with today’s paper and held it up so I could see it and read it. I’ve always wanted to be in the paper and guess what, I just got my wish. On the cover was a grainy photo of me probably taken by a tourist. There below the headline was a picture of me flying; you could just see me silhouetted against the sky. I read the article aloud:



“Bird-Person” Fly’s In Manhattan

Last night for the first time in history what seems to be a human with wings was sighted flying through the sky of Manhattan. People confused and taken aback by this thing that has been sighted. Several say that they heard it “yell” in what to seems to be glee. “When I saw the creature in the sky I was astonished. I didn’t know what to think of it,” Says 34-year old Jessica Cinder. “There was some freak flying free through New York!” ”

         I stopped reading. I couldn’t continue anymore. I could almost feel the anger coming off my mom in waves.

“Anise I tried to keep the public from knowing for so long,” My mother started. “I didn’t keep you from going out for fun. I didn’t stop you from flying for nothing. Anise I was trying to keep you safe! ” I swallowed what I was chewing.

“Mom, I know that, I’m sorry but I couldn’t help it. I wanted out so bad. And… well they found me I guess… ” She knew I was hurt so she sat down and looked me in the eyes.

“This is my fault to. I’m sorry. If I could I would move us to the country, but the economy and finding a new job…”

“Mommy, you don’t need to explain yourself I understand.” I smiled at her. She put her hand on my head.

“I need to go to work. I have other animals to take care of too.” She said smiling back.

“Bye mom.” My mother as well as working Saturday and Tuesday nights at the local Irish sports bar-slash-restaurant One And One, she was a Vet witch was pretty handy since I was half bird. My mother works so hard to support my huge appetite and me, as well as paying for private school. She’s the greatest person I know. She’s tall-ish, curvy and tanned. She has her jet-black hair tied back in a bun at all time’s and her dark brown eyes are filled with compassion. She’s pretty fit as well. Not only is she beautiful but also she’s nice, street-smart and vicious when it came to protecting me, and growing up rough shaped her into a tough person emotionally. She left leaving fifteen dollars so I could order in some food if needed. Needing my sleep to heal I closed my eyes and slowly drifted off.



Chapter Two

(to be continued)
© Copyright 2009 Isla M (artfiz at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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