wingspan chapter six

The classroom was basically a large greenhouse with each plant and herb sectioned by type and color. I assumed the stone markers at the beginning of each row with numbers on them pertained to different categories which still remained unfamiliar to me no matter how many times Mr.Baryo explained things.

I pass by a row of dark leaf shrubbery and vibrant green bushes with roots so thoroughly etched under the moist soil that I could tell were lovingly cared by after their owner. Mr.Baryo did a fine job watching over the school's greenery.

The deeper I went in the nursery I smelt fresh tones of dirt and pure unpolluted air. Not caring to bundle up I let the cool brisk wind sting my cheeks and nose. No longer was I strolling through waste filled parks in the city.

There was something almost hypnotic about the expansive amount of growing organisms that calmed me down in a manner I didn't fully expect to happen. Usually I would have to sit in the dark and count until three hundred before the anxiety was slightly less hair raising. Given my background I have always held a special place for nature, but never have I felt it in such magnitude.

Maybe it was the dull lighting or the soothing effects of a waterfall conveniently beyond reach that created an uplifting experience. That seemingly perfect moment was cherished, undisturbed, holy even.

Wanting to explore I go to a section located directly opposite from me that had a bunch of herbs planted in one neat row. A smile creeps up on me. Despite myself I was pleasantly surprised to see that out of them all I recognized one.

I quickly grab a sample jar of the Cordia Globosa from the shelf otherwise known as black sage. I knew that particular medicinal plant from my grandmother who made tea for me when I suffered from the common cold. I had a low immune system and because of that I was susceptible to fall prey to sickness.

With the jar secure I step on a trail of dead foliage that was on the floor over to the far end side of the deserted pathway I took.

Just ahead Toby was collecting samples.

When I found Toby he was diligently going through our list.

"Here you go." Carefully I hand over the jar with the herb in it.

Toby crosses off another item with his pen. "Well, call me surprised." he murmurs.

I roll my eyes. "How many do we have left?" I ask no longer in the mood to deal with his unruly attitude.

The morning was emotional and Toby's insufferable behavior made the whole transition all the more difficult.

"A couple. We're doing the extra credit." he tells me.

I sulk. "Fine. Lets get this over with." I sigh irritated at having a straight-laced overachiever for a partner.

Because of his tall stature I had to stand on the tip of my shoes to look over his shoulder at the sheet of paper Toby held in front of him. If he wasn't going to fill me in then I would have a look at it for myself.

I thought maybe we could finish the project faster if I got lucky enough and found another plant that I missed and somehow recognized. I wasn't all that surprised when I noticed my name went missing. His was their, though, in bold impeccable cursive at the very top of the page.

Right beside me I hear Toby's breath turn wispy and guttural. "What are you doing?" he wheezes out.
With respect for his agoraphobia I back away, just enough, and lift my hands in the I Surrender Position.

"I thought maybe I could help." I calmly explain to him.

Of course I, of all people, knew what it was like to have the walls crash down. That's why I figured it would take a while before the dizzy spell wore off.

wingspan chapter five

I didn't know what I thought would happen. School was school. Except it wasn't. Since I was put in the system as first year classes were, to some extent, different than what I hoped. The people were nice. Mostly. I had Toby in one of my classes and, well, he wasn't entirely fond of me. I didn't know what his problem was. Being a new addition I wasn't around long enough to personally offend him.

"Yes, alright, settle down now." Mr. Baryo was a unique character who, on occasion, had conversations with himself.

Although, I liked him slightly less for partnering me with Toby. Since he was my lab partner every assignment we had was graded solely upon our ability to effectively work together. Since Mr. Baryo had a strict policy on seating arrangements so I couldn't get him to put me elsewhere.

"To kick start the begging of another school year I thought it appropriate we do a project, hmm?" Mr.
Baryo passes around a sheet to each group.

He walks by our table heading back to the front. "Bring me ten rare items on that list by the end of today and you won't have any homework to do."

It was a list comprised of different plants. Most of which were foreign to me. Baker's Larkspur, Wollemi Pine, Gingko Bilboba, Virginia round-leaf birch, Syringa Vulgaris, Cordia Blobosa, Brides Tears, Spartium Scorparius, Thymus Serpyllum, and Dianthera Pectoralis.

I look at Toby in hopes of some translation. "Do you recognize any of these?" I ask him.

Toby examines the paper we shared.

"You better catch up. I won't get a bad grade just because you're slow." Toby snatches the paper from my hands and pushes his way through a group of unsuspecting guys.

They mumble a few unkind choice of words and stay quiet when they look up going their respective ways once they see who it was that bumped into them. I felt bad Toby was rude to them and I wanted something clever to say that would ease the resentment but at the same time I just met the guy.

I couldn't help but feel compelled to speak on his behalf during the many instances he thought it unnecessary to explain himself. I had to admit it was difficult to be around Toby and not take offense by his sour disposition.

Thank goodness he was tall otherwise I'd have a difficult time finding him among the pushy horde of sleep deprived class mates that were passing me by. Either Wildlife and Agriculture was a preferred class or it was merely overpopulated due to an excess student roster.

Staying focused on the back of Toby's head I follow his lead all the way to a much less crowded section in the back. I couldn't help but notice the lucky people were in the front where the more colorful easier to find plants were.

Wingspan chapter four

"Alright that's enough!" Toby whistles capturing my attention. "You hoodlums can converse on your own time. Let's go over the Do and Donts shall we?" he smirks.

Toby was tough but shrewd in his stern low tolerance approach. I didn't blame him for not wanting to deal with us. In fact, I was surprised Toby was able to stay even-tempered when it was so obvious Darcy and them wanted to be in charge.

"I think we're having fun right now." Darcy says which in turn makes both Josh and Kira laugh right out loud.

Toby narrows his eyes at Darcy. "Sit your but in a chair now before you fall and crack your skull open." Head raised high Toby walks in front of Darcy remaining calm for the moment. "To get blood on the marble flooring would be a terrible inconvenience because then I would have to clean up your mess." His illustrating comment was unusually bizarre.

They stare at each other without saying a word.

Finally Darcy moves from the table. "All right, man. Chill out." He reluctantly sits on a chair and smiles at Toby. "There, happy?"

Toby rolls his eyes and walks around the table. "Here. Go make yourself useful and pass these over." I hear Toby mutter to Josh.

With a stack of papers in his possession Josh leisurely goes around the room to hand out slips for everyone to sign.

"Please take one." Josh tells Kira who then sticks her tongue at him.

Josh chuckles at Kira revealing a silver clasp on his tongue. Longer then necessary Josh gives each person a slip.

Darcy groans. "Seriously?! Homework on the first day." Darcy puts his fine Timberland's on the table and leans back in the chair.

"Technically none of you have been finalized just yet." Toby says uncaring to beat around the bush.

Toby's voice remained painfully monotone as he spoke. I caught him checking the time every so often. With the flick of a wrist his attention remained constant never sidetracking from the outlined topic points.

"Remember, this agreement can be severed any time. It is your responsibility to sign these forms that state you understand the rules of our academic system. Only then will you attend classes." Toby further explains.

Josh steps in front of me and moves his curls to the side. Considering it was the first time I could actually see his forehead I was pleasantly surprised by what I saw. It was my idea that he would look so much better with a decent hair cut.

Josh smiles up at me. "Here you go. Take one at your risk." His voice turns low at the end.

I chuckle at his mock expression. "Thanks." I take the last sheet and look it over.

Josh bows with one hand in the air and the other behind him. "Don't you know I'm here to please? Let me know how I could be of more help" He walks away.

I watch Josh cross the room and go back to his spot where he sat down on the floor next to Rachel.

While avoiding eye contact with any person who might have looked his way, Josh vigorously pulls open a zipper to retrieve a ballpoint pen from his backpack.

I was a helpless idiot once I realized everyone but me was taking out their writing utensils in the sort of lead and ink. Close mouthed I squash any bitterness I had left before I could laugh at the irony of my newest predicament. Of course all supplies were in the suitcase that was currently out of my grasp for the time being. Ahead of me I noticed Rachel was already done filling out the necessary paperwork. I didn't want to bother her but what choice did I have.

Even though I might regret it later on I walk over to Rachel and tap lightly on her shoulder. "Can I borrow your pencil for a sec?" I smile.

I didn't know much abut Rachel only because she was so quiet. "Go for it." She mumbles handing me a number two pencil that had bite marks on it.

Pencil in hand I made sure to grab it near the end keeping away from all tiny indents marked along the bottom part of it.

With my knee as support I position the folder to create a sufficient make shift desk so that I could read the contents laid out in paper form. There was nothing fishy that stood out in my eyes. It had all the basics that applied to any other school I've been apart of and stated as requirement how many credits were needed in order to graduate, what time campus grounds were closed, and which activities were accessible per school year. In essence, I took accountability of all that was expected of me by putting my signature down as needed.

In my usual indecipherable sloppy cursive I sign my name giving Rachel her pencil back with the eraser pointing towards me. "Thanks." I say. "For letting me borrow it."

Rachel snatches the pencil from my hand."Yeah. Whatever." Bending over she rounds her back to me and puts the pencil away from sight into her shoulder bag.

I recognized her kind immediately. The anti-social misfit who sat in the back and yet never truly belonged no matter what she did to become invisible. Those bracelets weren't on her wrist for decoration. At that point I wasn't sure what to do. I thought perhaps she'd like to talk or something but it soon became obvious that she was more interested in chewing her nails than have an innocent conversation.

Instead of standing awkwardly next to her like some obnoxious stupid person I walk back to my spot where I was before and eagerly wait for orientation to finish.

"The bell rings at eight o'clock sharp." Toby went on to explain.

Bored, I glance to my left intent on figuring out just what dance number Kira was doing. It was a complicated one filled with toe stands and several pirouettes.

Looking around I was not surprised to find that, just like me, each of them were zoned out. It reminded me of a communal gathering in which I chose not to participate, made up of stoned artistic minds creating a fresh new beat: naturally Darcy was banging on the table while Josh played air guitar with his turquoise pick necklace.

I didn't have to look at Rachel to know she was fussing with her bracelets yet again; as for the twins, well, they were standing by the door hand ready to pull it open the moment Toby released us.

If I wasn't curious before, more than ever I wanted to know what happened. They were extraordinarily quiet never once initiating contact apart from themselves. Whatever their names were, I had a gut feeling they wanted to be left alone. Who knows, maybe later I could find a reason to bring my guard down and converse with one twin by myself.

I couldn't help but smile.

Just thinking about it was a good start. Dr. Cambridge would be proud of me for even contemplating at small talk.

I did my best to pay attention as Toby spoke but it was like critical pieces of information went missing and I was left trying to construct what little bits I caught on.

"Off campus visits on weekends only." Toby strongly emphasizes.

A girl I didn't know asks Toby a question.

"Which brings me to my next point. For those of you who think it's funny to backlog our mailbox this year the rules have changed. Nothing from the outside can be shipped to this address. Ladies and Gentlemen a word to the wise, don't get suckered by your veteran peers into doing something stupid that will only get you into trouble. Make good choices. When you get hungry the cafeteria is fully stocked with a choice of possible healthy snack alternatives. And don't give me any of that 'I'm allergic crap'. These days everything is filed online. We know everything about you. Welcome to the twenty first century, people." He adds in finale. "Oh, and it goes without saying but I will anyway because there are some moronic enough to try it. There will be no booze, drugs, or sexual conduct allowed." That completed his all-encompassing list of to do's.

Kira snorts. "Ugh. Suck the fun right out of boarding school why don't you. What a snooze." Thanks to Kira's sarcastic comment people snicker and verbally agree with her.

"This place is a last resort." Toby brings attention to each candidate by giving a consistent unwavering even field of vision.

Toby was brutally honest and didn't spare one word to sugar coat as to how serious it was that we put in the effort. "Don't screw it up."

Being in that category propelled me to a determined state of mind. I had to do everything by the book or risk disciplinary action.

"Loosen up. You'll adapt." I heard a light yet raspy voice say to me.

I turn around to see who snuck up on me. "I'm sorry?" I ask mr. average not clear as to why he opened his mouth in the first place.

He stands next to me keeping a few paces away never once breaking my bubble. "Not what you thought, is it?"

Internally I felt thankful he was perceptive enough to remain distant. Not one person besides my grandmother understood my need to be left alone much less a stranger. I contemplate what to say until the right word came to mind.

Finally, I shake my head. "No." I tell him truthfully since there was no reason to lie about it.

I watch him scan the room. It was subtle but I could tell by the rigid stance and meticulous concentration that he was sizing everyone up. I didn't peg him to be the divulging type so I didn't ask.

He switches vigilance to the right. "You seem surprised." he goes on.

There was something about his mannerism that bothered me. His attitude remained composed as if he was unfazed by secluded off-the-map places comprised of mostly second offense juvenile delinquents. Call me curious but I wanted to know why.

I look at him briefly. "And you're not. How come?" Normally I wouldn't care but it was an opportunity that I couldn't pass over.

Unravelled by my question he shrugs. "I'm a drifter. It's what I do." He grins walking away before I could ask his name.

Annoyed that I didn't know what to call him by I supposed a proper introduction would have to wait for our next encounter. Once he was gone I shamelessly realized only a few people were still in the room cutting it loose ever since Toby's speech died out. Casually one by one they pass by Toby and use the same door as the professor.

Toby whistles gaining our undivided attention. "I need your papers today, people! Then we can all go our separate ways!"

Kira approaches me suspiciously. "Hey." That glint in her eye was anything but friendly.

With rigid posture Kira points ahead. "What's that about?" She asks.

"Huh?" I say.

From the corner of my eye I skeptically watch as mr. average effectively blends in with the dispersing crowd. "What? Him?" I ask Kira who nods.

I didn't know what Kira's deal was, but I had to admit he was clever when it came to getting lost.
Within a blink of an eye I lost track of him. I could see the back of his coat and then nothing.

I shrug my shoulders. "Nothing. We were just talking."

Kira looks my way. "Okay. Whatever." She mumbles letting it go.

Linking her free arm with mine she waves a beige stripe blue card in the air. It had my name on it written in gold.

Grinning, Kira gives it to me. "In case your wondering, yes, I stole your schedule from Mr. Crabby Pants. We have the same first period, by the way. Speaking of class, we should go. The professor talks fast and writes small on purpose. If we're lucky we just might find two available seats in the first row."

It all made sense. Her comfortable demeanor around Toby. The ease in which she glided her way from small groups of people getting to know each other.

Overcome with doubt I stop walking and look at Kira dumbfounded. "Wait! You've been here before?" She had me fooled.

I wasn't sure how to mend things between us. It was a conversation that I couldn't just pretend never happened. Confused at being lied to I was under the false impression that she was a newbie. Still, we barely met.

Once it became apparent that I would no longer follow her lead Kira sighs.

Coming to a standstill Kira rolls her eyes. "Oh please. Don't look so surprised. It happens." She pulls on my elbow impatiently.

Knowing it was rude to pry I look at my feet. "I'm sorry." I begin to apologize. Oh god! I was a hypocrite. Kira had every right to keep a secret.

She locks her arm with mine. "Don't be. I'm not." Kira says.

By the grin on her face I knew she forgave me.

I stop walking once I remembered something absolutely critical. "I need to hand in my signed form.
Wait for me?" I tell her. It was the only way that I could be admitted.

Kira nods laughing. "Make it quick!" She yells after me.

Folder on hip I cross the floor where Toby stands over preoccupied with leafing through a stack of legal documents to notice me.

I clear my throat so as to not startle him further. "Here you go." I give Toby my form never once looking in his eyes just in case he might yell at me too.

Toby grabs the slip from my hand and places it in the correct spot with the others.

I gasp in shock when he takes it from me. Maybe it was from a rush of adrenaline but I felt grateful to not receive a paper cut.

I narrow my eyes at his retrieving form. "Wait! What about my suitcase?"

I run after Toby fast as I could when he didn't bother to recoil with a snide comment.

With nowhere else to look I stare at his back. "I'll need my supplies if I'm going to class." I let him know.

Toby momentarily stops in the middle of his stride halfway to the door. "You can go through your stuff but make it quick." He leaves before I could put together a response.

I look down and sigh. I would give the professor my folder when I saw her next. Until then I had no option but to carry it with me.

With the folder neatly covering one side of my hip bone I walk back over to a patiently waiting Kira. She was by the door as promised.

Wingspan chapter three

Anyone who entered the building went past the creepy gargoyles mounted on the wall looking over the entire foundation of the grounds. I tried not to over think all the reasons I found both large grotesque motifs appalling. Ignoring the carved stone figures that set off a feeling of uncomfortable bizarreness as well as sympathetic pity, I narrow my line of sight to close range.

The door was already open so I didn't have to knock. Going unnoticed made blending in easier. I didn't want to intrude so I opted to stick it out in the corner furthest away from the group.

I fix my hoodie in a way so that no one could see my face and stand quietly observing them from afar.

Not even at my old school did I get along with their kind. I was a loner by choice who read a non
conforming variety of books. While deliberating the connection between fact against fiction I perceived the people in said room to be just like the distinct main characters from stories I have long since finished.

The most notable ones that stole my concentration stirred a conflicting set of gut responses. Taking appearance into count they were directly opposite from the next.

The rebel mischief-maker, a petite girl sporting a purple mohawk ignores all pleading to be left alone as she reenacts a coin trick performance for the All-American sports rookie with a checkered shirt that was sitting on a table currently making an effort, and for the moment succeeding, not to fall off.

Across from them Romanticized heart throb with the massive curls and otherwise earthly charm of boho meets hipster, was seated on the floor next to some albino girl that had plain brown hair.
Standing apart from the rest the prominent Asian flair were huddled together seemingly unaffected by the drama that was going on. But it was the silent average dressed guy that captured my attention the most.

He was so normal looking, almost forgettable even to be locked in a system composed of outcasts. Perspectives ran bleak if a person like him was mixed up with a bunch of screwed up castaways; which lead to my earlier question. What did he do that was so terrible to land in Stark House.

When I feel like I'm being watched I catch one of the twins staring not in a creepy way but more like he was trying to figure me out. I didn't know why because I was not that interesting to look at. Not wanting attention from a complete stranger I feigned disinterest and take a gander at nothing in particular. It was shameful how easy I took sudden interest in the foundation of the building. Bitter about not being more observant of my natural surroundings I shake my head. I put all my energy into keeping a low profile that I didn't once think about pulling myself awake.

Holding the folder close to me I wait for the professor to show up. Periodically I glide along my internal thought compass without much effort. Many instances I fell into a stupefying concentration unable to recount specific moments in the role of a lively witness.

Thankfully it wasn't long before soon enough a tall slender lady walks through what I supposed was a side door entrance. She had excellent posture and behaved in such a graceful way that led me to believe was developed through a well-balanced education.
Astonishingly everyone quieted down once they saw her.

"Welcome to Stark house. My name is Professor Roswell and I am your Dean. If you have any questions please feel free to ask." She wasn't like many authority figures I've met.
Her bright red hair stood out against the purple dress that was embellished with gold stitching along the neckline and on the sleeves.

I figured the job must have paid well since there were so many other tempting possibilities to decide from.

"All right, then." she continued oblivious to my staring.

"My office is located in the northeast wing." she says. "The only time anyone is called to see me will be for expulsion. Since there are no questions for me I will let my student aid, Toby, get you all set up. Class starts in twenty minutes, everyone."

Professor Roswell takes leave as Toby, otherwise known as Mr. Grumpy, gets himself situated. I watch silently from my corner as Toby walks to the front. He looks around the room and subsequently finds me.

There were at least twenty people he could pick but I had to be the one.

He points at me. "You, over there! Come closer because I will not repeat myself." he shouts louder then was necessary.

I sink backwards when at once the juvenile youth bring their attention from each other and stare at me in a mixed form of shock as if to say I appeared out of thin air. Feeling anxiety expand at max level I wanted to cower for a little bit longer just until I could pull myself together.

Not wanting to approach them I sigh in defeat hating that all eyes were on me. Before he could yell at me I moved from my corner and hesitantly walk to stand more in the center of the crowd.

My attempt to remain unnoticed went in vain as the spiky hair girl gives me a two-arm hug. For a tiny little thing she was strong.

"Hi! I'm Kira. What's your name?" she asks me eyes brimming with excitement.

I take a large step to initiate some much needed boundaries.

I hated being touched but at the same time I didn't want to scare anyone off just for being nice. While looking at her I wondered if they accepted drug tests before or after you got enrolled. Then I I spiraled into thinking just how much information did mom withhold for the sole purpose of getting me settled in. I had no idea as to the kind of people I was forced to associate with.

Despite myself I shake Kira's hand. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Aislin."

"What a pretty name." Kira links her arm with mine and introduced me to a few people.

"Guys, this is Aislin. Be nice to her or else." she growls menacingly.
Josh waves at me from his place on the floor.

"Grand theft auto conviction. Went on a cruise joyride to Circle Bay. Seemed like a good idea until the car swerved." Josh sighs.

"Naturally dad let go of all charges and put me here instead." he shrugs as if saying 'what can you do'.

The pretty albino beside Josh went next.

Her eyes were outlined with black kohl. "Hey. I'm Rachel." she says quietly all the while playing with the many rubber bracelets on her wrist.

"Nice to meet you." The open plaid shirt guy that was on the table salutes me incidentally exposing his gray t-shirt underneath.

Face turning red I bite my lip and grin. Though I did nothing wrong by looking I couldn't help but feel totally embarrassed.

"What's your score?" Josh abruptly cuts him off.

I shake my head. "I'm sorry. My what?" I ask.

"He means what are you in here for. We all know it's not voluntary." Rachel says rolling her eyes.
My face turns red. I choke and look around. "Oh. Uh..." Palms sweaty I stare at them.

If it was one thing I hated it was talking about myself.

The one boy sitting on the table gets up.

He walks in front of me and smiles. "Hey, it's cool. No worries. You'll tell us when you're ready."

He extends a hand for me to shake. The sleeves were rolled up past his elbows showing off an
impressive scorpion tattoo. "The name's Darcy."

A bit more relaxed I return the handshake.

A dimple appears when he grins. "Misdemeanor arson charge newly acquitted. A doonbugie explodes and some ass wipe tried to pin it on me."

I step backwards when he aggressively spits on the floor.

"Dick-wad." Darcy curses.

"Hi." I wave at them half smiling.

Kira puts a hand on my shoulder. "Ignore him." Kira whispers.

I probably understood him most. "It's cool." Preconceived notions were misleading.

Without warning a girl about my age in torn street clothes walks up to me. I keep my eye on the brass knuckle ring. The whole time I thought how did they not take it from her sooner. If asked I would suggest a check point for weapons at the gate or at the very least pledge for a safe health risk zone.

She gets in my face and yells. "Who the heck are you, huh!? What? Are you going to cry because mommy and daddy don't love you?" Her laugh turns menacing.

My first theory of it being a joke was squashed. I felt stupid mainly because her intimidation worked. As long as I didn't move she would target me just to prove something.

I had always been a visual person. Maybe that explained why I kept looking at her clothes. I was confidant there was more to her than all that bottled up anger. Every piece from the buckle laced boots, and jewel encrusted jeans, up to the signature gold chain fastened around her neck went together perfectly creating one picturesque harmonized style.

She looks at me with pure hatred. "Do us a favor and stop your pathetic whining. Do you hear me? No one cares about you. You're just another unlovable rat." She lifts a palm in the air.

Darcy gets up to separate us. "Yo! Indigo, man, chill out. She didn't do anything to you. Calm down!" He takes a quick glance at Toby.

I look away when they start to make noise.

Mines was a cruel fate to get kicked out before I was absolutely certain that I wanted to stay. Another second and Toby could bust all of us if he wanted. Sure, he was busy organizing a few things but Toby's focus could easily be directed elsewhere if Indigo kept it up.

With Josh's help they pull her away from me.

Wanting to get away from her I step back far as I could.
I wrap my arms together so they wouldn't see me affected. Shaking, I take a breath. I was embarrassed because instead of speaking up for myself I had people coming to my aide.

Face deathly serious Kira narrows her eyes. "Step back and get yourself together. Indigo, what did I just say?" Kira had no problem combating with her.

Watching for a sign if Toby would intervene grew tiresome. He was taking forever just to stack two different piles of completely dissimilar sheets of paper while Indigo, on the other hand, was free to continue on with her brutal attack. His casual demeanor had me worried. Not many people could remain calm under a great amount of scrutiny that came with the pressure to keep the bad kids from injuring each other. It was like he didn't even care.

I stand behind Kira all the while making sure not to provoke Indigo by looking at her which proved challenging given how short Kira was compared to us.

"What are you thinking? Don't you understand Toby would love nothing more than to put you on a bus. You wanna see your mom again? Then sit down and take a breather." It was impressive how cool Kira remained.

Then again, not many people would react the way I chose to.

Indigo didn't say a word.

When they remain silent Darcy leaves and sits on the table while Josh accompanies Indigo to the back of the room. They pass by a row of empty plastic stacking chairs that were lined up against the wall. Indigo squats down low next to some window panel curtains that matched the same reddish tint of her jacket. Quietly sitting beside a pair of linens her slim body went unseen. Which explained how come I didn't notice her to begin with.

Relieved but still cautious I try processing what just happened. Sure I was messed up in all kinds of ways, but never did I take part in a fight where fists were involved. That kind of stuff I saw in movies.

"Don't worry about her. When she's not detoxing she's harmless." Kira puts her bald scalp on my shoulder and sighs.

I turn my head slightly to not get poked in the cheek by her tall hairdo that could be used as a weapon if she wasn't careful. I didn't know much about female protocol nor was I used to being around someone that was touchy feely.

Usually at my old school people would steer clear of me and for a good reason. Let's just say I wasn't exactly known as the outgoing type. Actually, everywhere I went people knew me as that weird chick. I guess branching out from my usual method of doing things wasn't terrifying so long as I kept it short.

"What's their deal?" I say out loud.

Kira sniffs a lock of my brown hair. If mom thought I was crazy than she had to meet this seriously odd character in front of me. "Who? Them?"

I hold still while Kira runs her fingers through my hair. It was a good thing I used a brush otherwise she would get caught up in a wall of knots.

"Hmm...I don't know." Kira glances from the corner of her eye. "Despite the obvious fact they're fraternal twins I'm not entirely sure what their story is."

Kira lets go of me and skips over to Darcy where they recite a couple rounds of somewhat obscene jokes until they get bored.

I was thankful to be free of her.

I had enough human contact that I could tolerate. If I stayed I didn't know that I would be able to handle it. Whatever the outcome there was one issue that could be dealt with. In the mean time I distanced myself apart from the rest and step out to the side just enough so that I create a bubble of comfortable spaciousness without causing alarm.

While I wait for Toby to begin with orientation I hug the folder close to my chest and desperately try not to fall at the seems. I had to calm myself before it was too late.

I didn't want anyone to witness my hysteria because then I would have to answer questions. I did enough of that with Dr. Cambridge. I was doing so well but my interest in getting to know people was just a performance.

Having the entire world as my front and center stage I was the main dancer showcasing an impromptu solo. It didn't matter how well I masked the character because sooner or later that same feeling of dread came back preventing me from taking a breath.

They did try convincing me to believe there was no immediate threat of danger but I still had to look
over my shoulder. Dr. Cambridge called it post traumatic stress disorder. Grammatical term aside, I was expected to get over my best friend dying without showing traumatic indicators of regression.
Heck, I was coming around the corner on empty with ten thousand blocks still left to go until I crossed townships intent on embarking a new change where normal proved to be characteristically irrelevant.

They could try modifying subconscious change in the form of new responses, fresh mental outlook, and behavior all Dr. Cambridge ordered while speaking on my behalf.

I wasn't about to let her memory fade. It's why I got the tattoo.

Wingspan chapter two

"It's not so bad." mom says.

Speaking first was her way of easing me into transition.

Even I had to admit my silence was growing uncomfortable.

I was busy trying my best not to freak out since it would be my new regular habitat for the next eight months or so. It wasn't too late to cross over a different prospect. I had to graduate, but there was a nonconforming route left to explore.

Ultimately, no matter what option I picked, I needed to follow through on my word. I promised to give it a try and I would.

Looking up I recognized the building came from the French Renaissance. I was amazed to see how well preserved it was and wondered if, by some chance, it had any of those high structured ceilings I read about in books for interior decorating. Because I could only see the top of it I had a desire to know with a closer examination, like, say, if I stood approximately two feet away from the entryway, would I be guaranteed the same reaction of goose bumps much like the ones I had just upon skimping a glimpse of tiers from a great distance. It excited me to find out.

"Do you want me to help you settle in?" mom unexpectedly asks me.

While preoccupied in a calm wave of marveling at the buildings' design I completely forgot that she was parked curbside.

I shake my head disobediently. "No. I can handle it. Don't worry about me." I say to her grinning.

It was a lie repeated so often that I stopped questioning it.

Mom jerks the key forward and the engine rumbled to life.

I take a step moving away from the passenger side door to watch the black smoke drift out the exhaust pipes.

Reaching backwards mother extends her arm to full-grabbing range and puts the seat belt on without much difficulty. "Well, good luck." Remaining composed she looks at me. "I'll try to keep in touch." She promises.

Mother was good at throwing people under the rug in favor of pretending that our home life was perfectly stable. Thus I didn't hold on to any expectation of seeing her again.

Without uttering a sound I watch as she rolls the window up and looks past her left shoulder for passerby's.

Carried away by jarred emotions I stay put once she drives back the twisting course we came. The main features of her car were riddled by layers of ice. Mom had a bag of rock salt underneath the seat in case it was difficult for her to look past the windshield.

Patches of snow lift in the air when she makes a U-turn along the deserted road and speeds off toward the main highway where the only source of a decent shopping center in town was.

Soon enough the only thing I could see was a reflection bouncing from snow crystals of a red glimmer which I determined came from her rear tail lights. "Awesome. I can't wait till you show up in my dorm unannounced." I whisper out loud against the fierce gust of wind that started to pick up.

With the folder securely below my arm I bend down. Carefully I grab my suitcase by the handle once I could no longer see the blue rectangular silhouette of the Impala. With mom gone there was no excuse to keep still in one place for much longer. The studious distinguished population that surrounded me were primarily successful because they stayed determined and preserved momentum from escaping, which meant I had to be one step ahead of them if I wanted to have one foot in the game pool.

Looking ahead I sigh. It was going to be a long walk indeed. I had to start moving before someone found me and came to false conclusions that I was pretending to be homeless. If, for example, a select group of people sitting in a Volkswagen passed on through, I was pretty sure that in their eyes I would seem lost. When in reality, nothing could shake me.

I needed to feel something in order for that to happen. I was numb all over. Instinct told me pick up my feet and get some place higher.

Before walking any further I fix my hoodie and pull on the strings to protect my face against the harsh unpleasant wind. The mountains were nearby; all it took was a thirty minute drive for locals and reliable tourists to reach their destination, a well-known travel site where they could engage in a varied amount of winter fest activities. The merciless weather had me shivering from a lack of blood distribution. I wasn't sure, but I hoped for there to be a heated device, anything portable or built in to defrost me once inside would do.

Hunched over I blindly walk on past the iron gate to the office.

I had no real sense of where I was going but I figured it was inevitable before I discovered a sign of life. Eerie scenery aside it seemed like the majority of the area was abandoned if not for the odd amount of keepsake soccer balls which remained left outside to perish on the stale dead grass.

I kept straight along the narrow dirt path, practically ruining the sides of my grey chucks as stray bits of mud trailed inside sticking to my socks, but I didn't care to change direction so long as I made it on time. The real issue I had was time itself since there was no idea of knowing how late I truly was, or early.

Doing my best to block out the memory tapes I lower my head.

I was having a nervous breakdown. It never mattered how strong my personal resolve was because eventually I would submit. No matter how reluctant, in the end, all that was left for me to do was relive a lapse in judgment.

With the door open I could hear what they were saying; it's not like they conducted themselves discreetly. As news of the incident circulated they sat together discussing options that would benefit both parties. "Believe me, when it comes to this, I am on your side. Unfortunately there is not much I can do for you besides dispensing a referral. Your daughter would benefit from seeking the advice of a qualified clinician, somebody that would be able to further monitor her condition more carefully. And I happen to know just the person." He smiled.

I felt sick to my stomach watching moms reaction. By the looks of it they were mapping out my year end plan without even so much as consulting the lead amateur player in all of it, me.

The principle made no attempt to hide his 'professional' opinion about my "certainly strange behavior".

At the time 'I thought I was a goner' but then, out of nowhere, mom shocked us all by changing her mind at the last possible second. The wheels in my head turned as I heard mom tell the professor 'thank you, but no'.

I was lucky that my former counselor reached out to a few of her connections and offered a room for me to stay in the meantime. Thanks to her I didn't take up residence in a small enclosed single person capacity, disengaged from the world letting strangers observe me from afar while drawing obscure paintings with oil pastels in my snoopy cotton pajamas.

During the conference and throughout my entire denouncement to be removed from public schooling one sure fire promise remained. Once graduated I would no longer have to deal with mom and Jett's frequent scorn-filled rejections. I could go anywhere I wanted. That kind of power alone was dangerous.

I lift my head up once I hear someone yelling out instructions for the ungrateful delinquents to shut up and settle down already.

Thinking now was my chance to find the Admitting Office I pick up my pace and come to a steady halt when I'm stopped by some guy of more than average height dressed entirely in steam punk clothing with hair parted to one side. Without knowing a given name I had no idea what to call Mr. Grumpy.

I gave him that informal title because of the permanent frown that made it challenging for me to see him in a different light.

His scowl deepened once he viewed my complete outfit.

His surprised reaction didn't bother me. For whatever belief they harbored about the proper way to dress while going out, many groups of diverse people I ran in to on the way took offense with my favored pick in outdoor apparel. Honestly I didn't understand what the big deal was: I mean, so what if I wore a hoodie, my favorite oil stained sweats, and a pair of old chucks.

I grimace silently. There was no need to go and laugh about it.

"Well, well, well. Look who decided to make it." was his pipeline of a greeting.

I shuffle my feet and formally introduced myself. "Hi. Um, I'm new here." I get embarrassed when I hear it come out like a question instead of a confidant young woman's public announcement.
Face beet red I look down in shame. I was self-reliant for peete sake's.

Why did I let him get to me so?

Uninterested in hearing what I had to say the guy waves me off and checks something on his clipboard. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever." he mumbles ignoring me.

Resolute, I stand in from of him with good posture until his only option was to deal with me. "I'm supposed to register myself in." I tell him asserting personal strength to get my point across. Satisfied that I projected the demeanor of a self-assured young lady I smirk.

"Naturally." Hesitantly Mr. Grumpy sighs. "Let me tell you what I say to all the people who are late around here." With the clipboard down he points to a collection of top dollar suitcases that I was pretty sure were to be filled with treasured possessions; though, by the looks of it I could tell no one cared to straighten them up since a few were standing upside down, practically spilling against the sidewalk. "Put your stuff over there. The professor will be here for Orientation soon enough." he says dismissively.

I watch him go back to work.

Mr. Grumpy narrows his grey murky eyes at me.

"Are you deaf? What are you waiting for?!" he barks.

Looking down I apologize for conducting myself poorly. I was new and so I didn't know if while behaving slightly reckless in turn I managed to ruin my chances by unintentionally insulting someone who could be important enough to recommend expulsion before I walked into the main course of study.

"Okay. Thanks for all your help." Quickly I walk away from him not glancing back.

I leave the suitcase behind and decided not to have my folder out in the open where anyone who passed by could find it.

Stepping forward I hug the folder close to me in case some insensitive tool made it his or her business to go snooping around privileged information that was only meant for the dean of students to be in possession of. Thinking it would have been foolish on my part to let it sit their cast aside on the pavement, not to mention one heck of a concurrence that someone would just happen upon it, I was sure in my decision to bring it with me as being a valid one.

I go up the four step lineup of stairs and did my best not to chicken out in front of my already not so pleased audience. It was now or never and without a car of my own to speed off in I couldn't very well just back-pedal on foot. Mom would never suspect if I chose to high tale my way out but leaving without reason didn't seem right. Besides, if I didn't like it I could always go for the alternative choice.

Wingspan- one

For everything, absolutely everything,

above and below, visible and invisible,...

everything got started in him and finds its purpose in him.

Colossians 1:16 (Msg)

I was with my mom the first time I saw a ghost. She mega bugged out when I told her and couldn't rush me off to therapy quick enough. Twelve years without incident and then, suddenly, I get up one morning and life as I knew it falls apart.

The narrow thoroughfare went straight up the mountains never once changing or altering en route.

I shuffle my feet to a seating position. The car was a package deal that my mom could never seem to upgrade no matter how many times she passed by the used dealership. It went everywhere with her before I came along. Hence the sun fatigued dash board and decaying carpet. The engine discharged with a burst of fury. I could barely continue on with a single forethought without losing track because of the pot holes. Each bump felt like another punch to the gut stealing the breath right out of me.
Eager to disappear I clutch on to my belongings to keep them from dropping.

I hold back from looking in the mirror not wanting to spoil what spirits I had. It took a lot of energy to direct my reflection of the past few days from slanting. I didn't have the strength to pull myself out of a thought crippling bender let alone call to mind a figment of imagination from which I could induce rainbow visions of pleasant daydreams to squash my not so cheerful reality even if its affects lasted for a total of five minutes.

I push the hood over my forehead.

Mom always took care of herself as opposed to my unremarkable habit of doing things. With a Cardinal scarf tied over her chin the impeccable bun stayed put.

She approaches a stop sign and glances at me with a look of disappointment. It was a facial expression I was fond of. "You being away is for the best. Honestly, I don't understand why you're pouting for. I have to deal with the backlash of your current outburst. But not you. No, you get a fresh start. Who knows, perhaps this time you might even make friends to hang out with for a change." She emphasizes that last part with a fake smile just like the one she always manages whenever she looks at me.

Foot on pedal I take a glimpse past the steering wheel not surprised to see the number displayed on the indicator panel stayed even. She always was a careful driver. "We need some time apart, Aislin." Voice strained, mom cut off what she was about to say after that.

It wasn't hard to imagine her next words. The whole I was an important factor to her creating a picturesque lifestyle was not for my sole benefit. All joking aside, my situation was not a flourishing one.

Not caring to revive old feelings I roll my eyes and look out the window. Honestly. Would it damage her reputation to let go of the facade once? No critic was around to witness and therefore disapprove of her authentic self. "He's not my dad." I say. The truth was, when I first met my step-father, Jett, I thought he was a nice guy.

It wasn't only until after he moved in with us and gained our trust when his attitude changed. Being a practicing Catholic Jett felt a distinct calling to become a minister. Since Jett was at work it was just mom seeing me off. I took pleasure knowing the drive was just as inconvenient for her as it was for me.

Imagine that, it only took sixteen years but we finally had something in common besides our looks.

My mom sighs from her side of the car. She did that a lot whenever she was stressed or irritated, which, over the past few days, was all the time. I could tell I was wearing her down. Good. Maybe she would finally stop trying to convince herself that she cares for my well being.

Mom sneers wishing that I could take over all personal matters that had to do with my future instead of acting like I was not practically full-grown. As I understood it she didn't want the burden anymore. I never said it, but I wanted to cut all ties with the lot of them. That way she could do something of more favorable treatment instead of fulfilling habitual perennial duties that obviously grew tiresome.

Mom flicks the blinker on. The car was old and so it made a loud noise each time the light blinked. She points a finger in the air. "Just do me one favor- and I won't ask for anything else - conduct yourself in a manner that won't bring us shame. I don't care if you get tired of hearing it;  I'll say it again- many kids are not offered the same opportunity."

I didn't reply back like she expected me to.

We turn right on a seemingly deserted one-way road heading forward.

Mom turns on the high beams to see better. "This is for your benefit." She liked to mimic couch doctors as her preferred method of a slap on the cheek. I tried reminding her it was meant to be done in a chronic pattern that way a flow of communication would flourish not sporadically in hopes of belittling me. It was a fairy tale assumption to think our strained relationship would get fixed by watching one installment.

The ride was silent. Instead of having conversation, I rest my head against the cold window. I stare at the white blur of snow covered trees. It was relatively quiet unlike towns closeby. With no outstanding family attractions featuring high roller coasters or campaigned music festivals to lure people into spending money there was no wonder the place was such a charming scenery indeed. If asked St. Peters Ville was known for its harsh winters and even shorter below 80 degree summers. Needless to say it wasn't a preferred destination since many contracted health issues such as inflamed lymphoid tissue for example.

One thing I couldn't wait for was to visit my grandmother who lived nearby. Sure, I had to sleep in the dorms, but nothing was mentioned about off-site visits. Because a lock down was never specified accompanying papers of campus information I was given I took it as consent. I wasn't a rebel though I couldn't help but feeling like one.

I blow hot air where my reflection was on the window and draw a small design, a replica of my tattoo.

It shouldn't be long. Just a few minutes and we'd be at the front gates of the institution where messed up kids like me go.

Mom gave me two flyer's earlier. Both of them were thoroughly informative with phone numbers included to cover all bases of which could be found, for instance, on Page Three roman numeral section Two, lowercase item b, under title reference Student Resources to make sure if the reader still had questions that were not previously mentioned they could always call to inform. The big one had colorful lettering with the name Stark House at the very top of the page written in bold ink.

I put them away for safe keeping in case I needed it later on. The brown folder was heavier than it seemed to be upon first glance.

The worn out material was ripped somewhat near the edges with a big yellow band holding pages together from spilling over. My whole life was in there. Every update of my attendance from when I entered grade school up until most recently when I freaked out and burned down the science room because I was paying more attention to what greeted me than handling compounds. Funny. I thought it would feel different once I got it. Like I would be able to understand why I was such a freak in the first place. To gauge how well I was doing Dr. Cambridge used a notepad and pen during each lesson. If she really knew how I was handling restless jitters I would be taken off the blacktop immediately shunned by all cultures of people with steady ordinary lifestyles.

I hold the over sized bundle in my arm and try to forget all that happened.

"I'm sorry but there's no other option. She's too much of a risk." Unfortunately I couldn't stop from repeating the same two sentences.

After much practice I recognized the look on the principles face. It was the kind which expressed his already predisposed judgment of who I was.

One that read somewhere in between the lines of 'Young lady, you need special help of which I cannot provide' and 'You can pretend all you want, it doesn't help your situation.'

It wasn't all my fault. Mom didn't see it that way. When she told Jett he chased me around the house yelling with his bible raised in the air like it was The Crucifix until I locked my bedroom door shut and escaped through the window.

Who knew, there was a perfectly good chance I would go to hell for numerous procreated sins.