Rebel: A Monstercat Fanfic

065 - Reflection

Song of the Chapter: Aphasia - Mr FijiWiji (Chillout) 

I love this song and it fits super well with this chapter because the word aphasia means something like being unable to express words (though it's more of a scientific term but let's ignore that), and the song repeatedly says "here in my arms" which I think is super sweet ...

(Braken's POV)

I wake up with a jolt and sit up quickly, banging my head on something hard. I fall down on my back again with a yell of pain, and then pause to register everything.

I'm in a small slot bed in the wall, only a little bigger than my shoulder width, and I can see that most everything is black, except for the white lights. On the ceiling above me, I can see a word scratched into the metal: ALONE. I sure feel alone. There's another slot bed across from me, and both are only a couple feet above the floor. I know I'm in a cell of some sort, only about my arm's length across, but longer than I am tall.

I roll over to stand up and freeze. Something unfamiliar is brushing against my neck and arms. Cautiously, I sit up and let my fingers find this new thing and feel it. It's soft and silky, and I can feel it spreading all across my shelf bed and my back. I know exactly what it is, but I wish I didn't. I close my eyes and lean my head back on the wall, silent tears slipping down my face. I don't want wings. I want to be normal.

A sudden burst of rage envelops me. I climb to my feet, shaking in anger, and let out a terrifying yell, the sound scaring me. They did this to me. They made me this way. My unwanted wings bang against the close walls, hurting them and making them ache, but I don't care. I hate them. I hate them and I hate Jensen. My burning rage turns into a fountain of despair and I melt to the floor and cry. I bury my face in my hoodie sleeves, relieved they let me keep it. My wings fold around me, closing me off from the world, and even though I hate them, this is sort of comforting. They're soft and warm.

Eventually, I take a deep breath and calm down. Although lots of people say that crying doesn't help anything, I think it does. You don't have to hide your emotions and pretend to be okay, even though you're not.

I stand up and dust myself off, stretching my wings and finally gathering enough courage to get a good look at them. They're silky, shining, and glossy black - not like Aero's white ones. I wonder if my hair is different, like his was. It takes a moment, but once I get used to them, I spread my wings to see how big they are. They're huge - they won't even fit in the whole cell and the tips poke out of the bars on the door. I'm glad I don't have to share a cell with anyone.

Carefully, I flex my wings and turn around, trying to maneuver the tight space with these enormous things. Eventually, I find my eyes drooping, and I adjust my wings and climb back into my shelf bed. I'm always exhausted after a good cry. The warm feathers envelop me and even though I'm sure I hate them, I find myself smiling, just a little, as I doze off.

"You've got company, boy. Get up."

Slowly, I open my eyes and blink the sleep away.

"I gave you an order. Get up."

I roll over and tenderly climb to my feet, careful of my broken leg and my wings. The soldier gestures and I come right up to the cell door, afraid, but also curious. He moves away, revealing none other than Jensen - the man who did this to me. Instead of fear, I feel that ... rage. Again. I'm not used to feeling rage. I've forced myself to bury it for so long, I've almost forgotten what it felt like.

"Braken," Jensen says, smiling. The already cold cell seems ten degrees colder. "Stand back a little. I want to have a ... civilized conversation."