Free Choice: A Wishful Star

A Wishful Star

I sat on my bed gazing out of my window, looking at the night sky. The stars were twinkling against the inky, black canopy. I blocked out the trees and buildings and pretended I was in deep space. Just as I was about to lie down and fall asleep, a streak of brilliant bright light beamed through the sky. It fell out of sight, leaving me dazed on the side of the bed. After a few seconds of stunned silence, I remembered to make a wish. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

            “I wish I had angel wings.” I said, trying to make my voice sound clearly as possible.

            At first nothing happened, but then I felt a searing pain between my shoulder blades. As suddenly as it started, the pain ceased. I could feel something feathery and strong connected to my back. I flapped my new appendages and could feel the cool air rustle my feathers.

            I got off my bed and ran to my mirror. I was unbalanced and slow because of the new weight. I looked at the mirror and saw golden-white wings protruding from my back. I stared in disbelief. I flapped my wings and saw that the reflection did so too. I smiled.

            This couldn’t really be happening, I thought, but there’s only one way to test it out.

            I strode over to my window and slid the glass open, engulfing myself in clean jasmine-scented air. I leaned out the window and looked down at the grass one story below. I then sat on the windowsill with my legs dangling outside the window. I took three deep breaths to prepare myself for the jump. My heart was pounding and my brain was screaming at me, saying this was a bad idea. After a few minutes of stalling, I jumped.

            I flapped my wings as hard as I could. I plummeted towards the ground, my wings slowed down the fall, but I still fell hard, twisting my ankle at an odd angle. The sharp pain of my sprain stabbed my ankle.

            “Danmit,” I hissed between my clenched teeth.

            I gingerly got up and supported my weight on my good leg. I looked up at the full moon with pleading eyes. I stretched my wings at their fullest length and flapped them. My feet left the ground a few inches. Excited, I flapped my wings harder until I was leveled with the treetops. Harder and harder I flapped until my house was as big as a quarter below me. I savored the feeling of the cool air whipping at my face. I tucked my wings in and dived head first. When I was a few feet from hitting the ground, I leveled my wings out, making me glide soundlessly. I pulled myself upwards and flew above the houses with the full moon illuminating my golden-white wings.