Page 121 of Gift from the Wing

“Calm yourself, Adored. The one who speaks is wise beyond our comprehension. If he wants you to think back to this time, you should do so. Do not give him undeserved wrath.”

“He’s my other Guardria, Tanith. I’ve been begging for his guidance all day. Years actually.”

“Andnow he is giving it to you. I know the frustrations you feel, young one. I’ve lived in the shoes you are now filling for many, many years. It is much easier to take our anger out on those we love, but you must repress that desire now. This is the one you’ve told me of. He is doing all he can, when he can. Take his guidance,”she says so softly, it douses my inferno, and I swallow down the lump in my throat.

“I’m sorry,”I breathe.

“As am I, filia mea.”

Gaster laces his fingers with mine and pats my hand warmly as I blow out a breath and wipe the tears soaking my face. I use his resolve and confidence to ground me. I feel like I’m seconds away from shaking so violently, I’ll vibrate myself into the earth below me.

“I don’t think I remember kindergarten. That was…that was the year it all started,”I say quietly.

“Follow Tanith’s lead,”CC says.

“Tanith…”

“To go that far back, young one, you must at least recall a time you were that young. Something that sparks that time frame,”she says.

A small whimper passes my lips as the first thing to come to mind is that forsaken grave Franklin put me in. I quickly wash it away and replace it with meeting CC. His presence washes over me and blankets me in the love he feels for me and I hold onto it for dear life.

“I remember a time.”

“Good, now think intently about that time. What were you doing? For me, it would be learning to fly, getting my claws off the ground, controlling my wings. Dragons learn to fly between the life span of six to eight years. By ten, we are allowed to fly with our flight.”

What was I doing? Other than getting my blood drained.

I started at the all-girls school.

Magnolia Prep.

Suddenly, flashes of times long ago start playing across my mind and the navy, white, and black plaid uniforms spring to my mind. The etiquette classes. The pageants. The nurse’s office.

“Good, filia mea. Think of Stephanie.”

Stephanie. Stephanie…

“Willow, if you won’t tell us the truth about how you injured your arm, we will just have to inform your father again.”

“I’ve already told you. His friend’s needle caused the bruise,” I cry.

Mrs. Smith, the school nurse, shakes her head disappointedly at me before turning on her heel and walking away. With the stupid tie hanging down my shirt, I wipe away my angry tears and cross my arms.

“Sit right here, Stephanie. Your mommy will be here in a minute,” Mrs. Smith says, far nicer to the girl who sits in the chair beside me.

She doesn’t look hurt to me.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly, tapping me on my shoulder.

“Fine.” I sniffle, turning so she doesn’t see me crying.

“I heard what you said about the needle. My doctor has to stick needles in me too. My daddy holds me sometimes when it happens.”

My wide eyes turn to her in shock, and I look over her for the same bruises I have. I don’t see any, but she obviously didn’t make the mistake of taking her jacket off.

“Your daddy takes your blood too?” I ask.

“Oh…no. I have to get blood,” she says quietly as she looks down at her hands and picks at her fingernails.

---