The breeze whisped Sarah’s hair out of her face as the cold breeze licked it. “Heights, oh why am I so fearful?” Sarah questioned herself, “Come on Sarah, wings out, fly!” she yelled at the top of her lungs knowing that she couldn’t possibly be heard this high up. “I may be cursed but I am not going to hell, I will not give up on my faith so I will take this pain and take the blessing of being able to fly, I will not give up” Sarah convinced herself as she resided on a ten story apartment on the deserted side of town, all out east-side with blank faces and crappy wallpaper. “Peach, the whole damn building, all ten stories, peach?!” she argued out loud to herself, “awesome, well atleast if I die than people won’t be to excited to put the crime scene in the New York Times“
Sarah stood there upon the rooftop until the sun faded from her face and the dusk fell upon the town, continuously asking herself how to fly the entire time. Sarah tried many things like imagining the bank robbers or the men in the park to create a mask of anger but only frustration tattered at her insides. Sarah also attempted to flap her arms up and down consciously hoping to suddenly sore without wings while yelling “come on wings, come on!” She now sat there, sitting on the one lonely white lawn chair that had managed to get a lift to the roof, dusk still slowly laying over the town devouring the sun one block at a time.
She attempted to fly day in and day out for what seemed like months, although only a week had literally passed. Stone simply sat on the horrific peach colored roof on the one lonely lawn chair that had found no grass. Stone, becoming a stone. “Guess you know how I feel eh? No home, no color, just a curse of a peach colored rooftop?” she giggled at her humour as she wondered how crazy one could become. Her own personal batcave, sitting there day by day, tick tock as time slowed each dawn till dusk movement of the sun. She expected wrinkles at each new moral morning. “No screams, no hero needed” as this thought passed on through a shriek echoed throughout the streets, “help me! Anybody! Thief! Thief!”
Sarah perked up and stood up from her chair in an instant, running over to the nearest ledge to peer over. Nothing, as she ran to the next ledge in order to find a vantage point on the current situation at hand. Third try and she was now in view of a middle aged man with shaggy brown hair sprinting down a busy street dragging a purse behind him as it fluttered all around within his grasp. He was running opposite of the mainstream public, this view was like a treadmill, fighting against something that will just keep coming like waves. Continuing to push people out of the way, the man was slowing. “Perfect”, her voice grew deep as her pupils widened with excitement as they filled with red. She gasped, wings tearing out of her awaiting flesh. The pain was no less than the last but the perseverance in her mind hacked away at the piercing emotion.
Her heart raced, pumping louder and louder, awhile her breath got heavier and heavier. Wings stretched, body plunging to great depth, Sarah Stone had finally taken flight once again, soaring the skies with great strength and leadership. Swooping over the man, she was ready to snatch him but no in public like this. The thief kept running straight into opposing crowds until he separated, “yes, a chance” she smirked. Letting down to the ground, just low enough to snatch the perpetrator and his stolen goods, Sarah closed in her wings to bolt up fast and then unfold them to gain a boost when reaching the seasoned high sky. He screamed out of surprise and wiggled his feet frantically back and forth as he dangled above the passing buildings. This fear factor terror grew higher until the longest five minutes came to an end, dropping the thief two meters from the rooftop before dropping down herself. Standing tall beside him, wings still fluttering at each side, eyes red and focused on matching with his.
Sarah screamed into his ear ”you know what you did?!” as she tugged the purse from his scarce grip. Holding the now ripped strap of the purple purse, she clenched the buckle and wrapped the strap around her hand to be sure that nobody could tug it away. Sarah clenched the purse with her left as she built up the strength and courage to right hook him, hard and fast. “WHAM” she splintered her middle finger as she took a deep breath to sustain the pain, only kindling the flame of anger that was ready to burst into a forest fire. Sarah moved over to where he had landed, and as he attempted to stand up she suddenly gripped his t-shirt collar and moved him up towards her face, allowing him to dangle above the floor. This shaggy haired middle aged man was a short man, only about five and a half feet tall and not weighing all that much she realized as she stared him down.
His eyes began to thaw with tears as a simple reminder to Sarah Stone that he was still, only human, although mistaken for a criminal beast that doesn’t deserve to leave this peach jailhouse. “You’re finished!” she screamed a she tied him up with his own gray hoodie and sat him on the floor so that she could dial the emergency number and get him what he deserves, a court date; justice. The cops were now on their way to her position as she looked over the ledge to find a police car moments later, “that’s my Que” she whispered as she leaped off the roof once more. She shot straight down from the roof like a rocket blasting opposite of the moon, slowing down to open her wings as far as they could reach. She allowed herself to quietly soar through the streets to find the place of the incident.
Fifteen minutes later she knew she’d found it by the site of an old lady wearing a pink fuzzy cardigan with white hair. Stone lowered down enough to slowly glide over the bench the old lady sat upon as she let the purse slowly slip out of her hands, low enough to not break any valuables, she let go. The purse floated downwards like a leaf in the fall until the slight bang at the bottom, a smile appeared on the old lady’s face as she could not have predicted something like this. A tear fell from her eye as she looked up to discover a partial wing, the white wing, “Oh thank you Jesus, I’ve always loved you” the prayed in a whisper.
Written By: Megan Lizee
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