Wake up at home
Warmth. A soft comfort. Facedown onto a pillow with the blankets pulled up to his shoulders. As Daniel came into awareness he became increasingly concerned over the annoying pull on his shoulders, it felt as if someone had taken two fuzzy sticks and pressed them against his back, but he could still sleep.
The light filters in from the second story window, just outside the branches of a tree were rustling in the wind. Daniel’s feet began to grow uncomfortable, so he spread one knee and shifted position. That just made his shoulder uncomfortable. Another shift, now putting his face into his arm and trying to shut his eyes tight. The movement made something on his back pull as it rubbed against the feathers, a sharp pain around the skin. He twisted all the way around and put weight onto his back.
This was the mistake that ended in a yelp of pain, blankets being tossed to one side, and Daniel leaping forward off the bed trying to figure out what happened. His wings flared, the base of them sore. His chest heaved, the breathing rapid. With eyes wide he could see the claw marks all over his sheets and his comforter blanket, scuffed into the frame of his bed and against the walls.
The sun peaking through the window cast light against his back, and looking onto his shadow against the wall he saw a sphinx. Winged and furred and feathered, with a regal tail and a proud posture, the head of a human atop a feminine body with a slim waist, wide hips, and extended chest. His wings stretched out once then folded up along his back like a cape. Their movement sending ripples of tingling motion into his chest, as the muscles that handled the pull and shift was clearly on his front instead of his back.
They changed even his insides, the boy realized. Something he wasn’t especially keen on when, upon standing up and taking a haunched position by his bed, even with complete nudity he could not spot anything between his legs. He really did look female, and was rather terrified of what might happen if the sharp talons on his fingers went too close trying to feel that area.
“Daniel! Are you awake yet?” the voice of his mother called down from the first floor of the building.
His mother! School! A glance at the alarm clock, he only had ten minutes or he’d be late for the bus. What was everyone going to think if they saw him like this? Could he skip on school entirely? Where else would he go. The hospital maybe?
No, his ‘friends’ would be at school too, and they were the only people who might explain what happened. He had to talk to them, and doing so publically could get them to finally fold if their stubbornness and silly lies continued the way it did last night. But he had to get dressed! It was embarrassing to go without pants.
First he picked up some jeans, but his feet wouldn’t make it through the leggings. Shorts? That seemed to work, his feet were a tight fit and he had to drop onto his talons while maneuvering the legwear over his heel and knees. A strange zigzagging path that just made it annoying to fit them. But he had something! Some coverings to look decent even if fur hid the remainder.
Decent being a relative term, it wasn’t until after he got them on that Daniel realized how many tears his clawed fingers caused in the attempt.
Next he hurried to find a shirt, something large, something he could cut holes into. The jacket he could slip on, but as it went over his folded wings it just felt awkward on the shoulders. Every time he shifted or moved the fabric would tug at his wings, which in turn pulled the skin or lifted up the feathery quills.
He takes the jacket off, now looking for a T-shirt. Or a muscle shirt. Something thin ad light, something stretchy and soft. In desperation he takes out a long white shirt that only reaches down to his waist, realizing just how far out his new chest stretched the material.
In frustration he tears at it! It did not take more than a second to fully modify his shirt with the proper space for wings to poke out. Some stretching, a bit of flexing, easing his wings in and then folding them back up over the shirt, the ragged holes perfectly allowed for comfortable wear.
It was bare and light and he probably looked like a homeless swimmer, but it was enough. When he looked at the socks and shoes he just gave up completely, he couldn’t even fit two toes into the mouth of a sneaker. The entire foot was simply not going to happen.
“Daniel you need to come eat breakfast, get up!” his mother shouts while the boy claws at his bedroom door. A tug and a turn, he finds with some disappointment that the extreme muscles in his abs and chest did not translate to higher upper body strength.
He takes off down the halls, makes it two steps, and flops facefirst into the carpet.
SMACK!
“uughh. I’m fine mom!” Daniel shouts down with a booming, yet slightly feminine voice. His tones were softer than he expected, the pitch a bit higher. Probably just the impact. “MOM! You’ve got to come up here, come look at me!”
“Breakfast is here Daniel, I’m not climbing the stairs when you have to come down anyway.”
With a groan he tries standing up and walking forward again. On one hand he could be pleased that the muscles in his chest meant having wings did not automatically make him a hunchback, but the shape of his legs did make it awkward to balance on two legs. The tail helped, but everything else was top-heavy. He tries leaning against the walls. Using the guard-rail for support while slowly padding his way down. Walking on these new leg shapes was so decidedly strange compared to what he was used to.
He never thought about it before. Human legs only bent forward and tended to land flat. These legs coiled at two locations, like three sticks tied together the joints let the bottom part of his leg press against the top part, his toes could touch his kneecaps when he squatted. It was like walking on a spring, highly muscular and very bouncy, they wanted to squash down and they clearly wanted to spring back out at a rapid pace.
But that also meant they were oversensitive and responded to the slightest thought. When you are mostly top-heavy and have long arms with long fingers, accidentally flinging yourself forward from a base that’s trying to lean with your face toward the ground isn’t the best idea. He felt like he was trying to sneak around his own home, standing on his toes as he carefully walks down the stairway.
Maneuvering his new legs took deliberate effort. It was much longer than normal before he finally rounds the corner, looking out to see he’d be taller than his mother if he wasn’t leaning forward with bent legs.
“Mom! Don’t freak out. It’s me I swear. It’s Daniel!”
“Well of course it is.” She rolls her eyes, putting a bit of toast in her mouth. “You should go put shoes on now son, and maybe pick out something that says ‘eager student’ rather than a zombie searching for brains.”
“Wha, No. Look at me. Don’t you see the hair? The feet? Mom!” Daniel stared at her, one talon leaving scratch marks in the wall as he grips the corner for balance.
She looks directly at her son. “I see a teenager who slept in late, didn’t do the laundry, and now has raggety old torn clothing rather than the new school uniforms I just paid for. If you’re going to stay up late with your friends at least try to look decent.”
“No, NO! Forget the clothes!” he pads into the room on shaky legs, but upon making it to the table finds that he has to brace both talons into the wood to keep himself upright. His palms slam down with far more weight and noise than he was expecting. “The skin, mom! The wings! This is not a suit I swear, these are not gloves!”
“Don’t you take that tone with me. Are you taking anything? Drinking?”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure they slipped something into my drink.”
“Honey I do not want you to end up like your father. Stay away from alcohol, I don’t care what your friends tell you.”
“I don’t know what they put in my soda, but it sure as hell wasn’t alchohol. Mom! Can you … okay wait, when I flap my wings here what are you seeing?”
“I’m seeing you need to get a new shirt. Did you use a rusty knife to tear the back open like that? For a game of pretend?”
“Its not … these are actual wings!” Daniel flapped them furiously, and an empty glass left on the table knocks to one side from the force of his flaps. The plates jiggle, the toast and pop-tarts left out scooted a few inches away, the table-cloth flips up around his hands. “I didn’t use a knife, I used my fingernails. The nails that are now deadly bird talons!”
“Honey. You’re much too old to be playing these sort of games.” She rolls her eyes again, glancing at the effects on the table for a moment. Toast enters her mouth as she gazes toward the window. “Wind must be kicking up today. I think a jacket will do you better than the exposed shirt you have on. Get something decent.”
Daniel, stunned, simply looked down in horror. His mother didn’t believe him. Could she even see?
“Mom what color is my arm. What are you seeing.”
“Pink and soft, pasty white as usual. Are you trying to get a tan? Did Jake put you up to this?”
“Okay. Okay I can work with this.” Daniel reached across the table to snag a pop-tart, holding it in his mouth so he could use the same hand to snag a glass and the bottle of orange juice.
“Not long until you need to be ready for school. Whatever it is your working with you’d better make it fast.” His mother proclaimed, finishing off her own breakfast and standing up. Her business suit as pristine as always, a perfectly square leather purse dangling from her hip.
“Right, I’ll be ready mom.” Daniel offers as he scarfs down a quick meal for himself. “Have uh … a good day at work.”
“You too honey. Love you.” She leans in to kiss the side of his head, having to shove one wing out of the way in doing so. Then she heads off toward the door.
Daniel finished eating quickly, still swallowing the last of his pop-tart as he fallowed his mother outside. He could lean his palms against the wall while walking through the house and through his hallway, but once he was out the front door he didn’t have anything at all the grab. This meant slow, awkward steps. His legs moving with such deliberate precision and wide stances he honestly did look as if he were a cartoon burgler trying to stealth in plain view.
“Honey, stop being ridiculous alright? You aren’t going to be popular like Pammy if you wear torn clothes and act like a dork.”
Daniel glared at her. As if this was anything but Pammy’s fault! As if he was to blame for the new legs and an unwanted coating of fur.
He says nothing as he heads to the bus stop at the edge of the side-walk, watching a driver pull into view. Wings folded, a cold chill running down his spine, he anticipated the response as anyone, anyone at all, saw his new condition.
“You coming in, or what?” was all the driver said.
Daniel stepped forward, slowly, cautiously, having to spend extra care to maneuver up the large steps.
No one noticed.
“Hey Daniel!” Jake shouted from the back of the bus. But he could spot others.
Pammy in one seat.
Gassain in another.
David was talking to one of his friends from the swimming team.
He could only pick one to sit by, and thus far no one at all seemed to care as a giant lioness eagle in swim trunks padded onto the bus. The doors closed behind him, the vehicle shuddered forward.
Daniel had to choose who he’d talk to first.
Written by Arbon on 24 May 2016
The end (for now)