Drop Dead Gorgeous
Flying.
"I need to try these out!" I cried I jumped up and down in front of my so said father.
"Your wings? You can't! I need to give you - " He barked, but I pushed him away and ran outside.
My name is Marceline Dark, and I'm a mutant teenager.
What?
Um, I have wings, failed laser vision (red eyes), white skin from a failed ice experiment, failed breathing under water, and much more.
My father is a scientist. He tries out all these stupid experiments on me, trying to make me the ultimate.. monster.
My heart is pounding and I look down at the balcony. Jump, stretch out your wings -
"DON'T YOU DARE JUMP!" My father roars behind me.
Jump, don't jump.
"Sorry, I can't take this anymore." I whisper and get up on the railing. I balance myself and start to gracefully fall.. until someone grips my wing. It sends so much pain through my body, feeling it being teared off of my flesh...
Because it really is.
"STOP IT!" I scream and jump right up. I was dreaming, of course.
"Marceline - how did that gas wear off so quickly?! - get back down!" He barks and drops the knife.
"You- YOU - YOU WERE TRYING TO CUT OFF MY WINGS! RIGHT BEFORE I COULD USE THEM!" I scream at him, as I hold my white, patterned with black lines (now bloody) wing in my hand.
"We're REPLACING them!" He yells and I grab the knife and throw it at his face. He stutters back and I growl, "Where are the fucking stitches?!"
A trembling hand gives them to me and I snatch them, filling the silence with my snarls.
I carefully try to stitch back my wing on and succeed. I flutter it, the pain still fresh, but it's on.
"I'M FLYING AWAY!" I snarl. "AND NEVER COMING BACK!"
"Number 18 escaping!" The woman yelling blares over the hospital speakers. Now it's a madhouse... all thanks to me.
That escalated quickly. I think smugly as I run to the REAL balcony and balance myself on it.
I've been waiting for this day for days, weeks, months, years. Time to fly. Time to become normal. Time to escape.
"DON'T YOU DARE JUMP OFF, MARCELINE!"
My father staggers to the balcony, and I turn to see him. Bruised and bloody. Ripped clothes from rushing.
"I might be a scientist, but I'm still your father - "
He stops to let me answer.
I lock eyes with his grey eyes.
"No, you're not." I say hollowly and jump off, letting my wings spread apart and catch the breeze.
