Short story inspired by writing.prompt.s
So, in our world, half of the people born in a year can fly, and the other half can’t. It’s as simple as that.
And, the only way you can find out; is if you jump from a height that will surely kill you!
It sounds a bit macabre, I know, but my people know what their doing. They know if your that half that can fly. I promise.
My father can fly; my mother, maybe she can, but she never tried; my older sister can fly too, but my younger brother has no interest in it, not yet anyway. He likes having his two feet on the ground at all times, whilst I… I love to be in the air.
Whether I’m sitting on a plane, jumping in to a pool or doing the high jump in school, I just love the air brushing against me.
I’m sixteen years old now, the youngest you can be to find out your fait in this world; and about to jump off the white cliff of Dolin. It’s the cliff both my father and my sister jumped off, the one they glided from, unwilling from that day on to keep their feet on the ground.
I’ve never wanted to keep my feet on the ground. The wind has always given me a thrill, the feeling of it in my hair and brushing past my finger tips have always excited me. I knew from the day I jumped in to a diving pool that the air was built for me, to glide and fly…
I remember I sky dived once… The closest I’d come to flying before my time. I felt myself float, just as my father said he did. It had felt amazing. I can still remember the wind blowing in my face. I’d stretched my arms out and screamed in to the air in delight. I’d felt the air pick me up.
I’d begged the man behind me not to pull the chute, to let us glide down on to the ground, but such things are not allowed. The man had laughed, and in my ear, he’d said ‘Not today’.
The parachute would open as planned and we would fall to the ground slowly. I was mesmerised by that which surrounded us, by the endless land that some witnessed every day.
That moment is what I will imagine now as I step over the cliff.
My father is at the bottom, cheering for me to jump. My mother is stood behind him.
She won’t look at me, refusing until my feet have touched the ground, but I have already decided that she would never never see me again, because from this moment on, my feet will never touch solid ground.
I will fly to dinner, I will fly to school, I will keep myself in the air where I am meant to be. It is what I am made for…
I close my eyes, take a deep breath in as my father taught me, open my arms out to the world and jump. I feel the wind instantly, pushing in to me, easing it’s way through my splayed fingers, my lungs breathing in the purest of airs, filling my chest with the urges to glide, to do as my father does.
My father is still cheering, I can hear him in the wind, I think my mother has joined him. I smile, perhaps I am gliding already.
My eyes flicker, but the wind keeps them shut. There’s no worry. My father said this would happen, that I had to breath and picture myself in the air, to picture myself flying.
The moment I feel like an open parachute, for the moment I will begin to glide, to fly…
But the moment does not come…
My mothers not cheering…
This was fun to write, I hope it’s fun to read too! It seems the poor sixteen year old will fly, but not the way she expected!
Prompts can be a writers most important resource, and get you out of the writing slumps you find yourself in!
It helps you develop different types of writing styles, helps you try out different tenses and even lets you explore genres you perhaps wouldn’t think of writing in.
It also inspires you. It can lead to a paragraph, a short story, a chapter or even a full-blown novel! You can make a prompt your own. You could have a hero, a villain or a by-stander as your star, it doesn’t matter, as long as you write it the way you want to…
Just Keep Writing guys 🙂