Wingless (The Lia Hunter Chronicles #1)
Chapter 1

Lia – 5 years old

Mommy is happy again. She’s dancing around the kitchen singing along to music, as she makes dinner. Mommy is rarely happy anymore so I sat in front of the TV, out of the way. A boring adult show is on the screen. A lady sits in front of a desk talking and on her left is a picture of a man. Icarus.

“Today commemorates the 20th anniversary of Icarus’ death. At the age of thirty-two, the young hybrid was tragically killed in an attack by a group of extremists. Icarus is well known for his role in the discovery of the Jaxai, the alien race that had been cohabitating our planet for centuries. Shortly after his death the equal rights treaty was put into place, granting the Jaxai, the same rights as any human...”

The lady’s words brushed over me but my focus is on the picture of Icarus. He’s smiling, his huge white wings spread out behind him as if he were about to fly off. My heart swells with pride as I looked at his wings, wings that are like mine. I want to fly like Icarus too. My fingers toy with the small black feather I found on my bed earlier that morning. I wish my feathers were white like Icarus’, maybe then Mommy would let me use them.

“Lia!” Mommy calls from the kitchen and I quickly scurry into the kitchen. Mommy smiles when she sees me, scooping me up off the floor and kissing my face. I laugh and try to wiggle away.

“There’s my little angel.” She croons into my ear. I laugh as she starts spinning us around dancing in time to the music. She starts singing loudly along to the music. I don’t know the words so I just hold onto her as we sway back and forth around the kitchen.

A loud banging hits the roof above us and Mommy quickly puts me down before turning off the music.

“Uh oh, seems like Mrs. Flannigan is grumpy again.” She says, giving me a wink and I giggle into my hands. Mrs. Flannigan is our upstairs neighbour and Mommy says she’s a mean grumpy old lady who wouldn’t know what fun was if it bit her on the butt. Mommy laughs too until she glances at the floor and spots something. I look down and see one of my black feathers. Mommy’s smile slides off her face and she quickly picks up the feather and throws it in the bin.

“Are you wearing your straps, Lia?” She asks quietly and I nod quickly so she can go back to smiling and being happy. I don’t like wearing the straps. They trap my wings to my back, making sure no-one can see them. It hurts and I don’t want to wear them but Mommy won’t let me leave the house without them. The last time she saw me not wearing them she got really angry and started yelling and then she got sad and she started crying. I don’t like it when Mommy cries, so I wear the straps, even when it hurts so she’ll be happy.

Mommy smiled down at me and kissed my forehead.

“Good girl.” I smiled under her praise and puff up my chest. “Now come on my little angel, it’s time for dinner.” She said but there’s a faint crease between her eyebrows. I wish she would be happy again.

Lia – 16 years old

Mom’s off her medication again. She says it makes her feely empty and she doesn’t like it but if she doesn’t take it she can’t work and if she can’t work we can’t afford the medication. It’s a vicious cycle that’s slowly eating away at the both of us. The shifts I’m picking up at Rick’s Diner are only just managing to pay our rent and food bills but unless Mom starts working again we’re headed for trouble.

Exhausted from another double shift I slowly made my way home to our small two bedroom flat. Eager to collapse onto the tiny bed and blackout for the next ten to twelve hours before my next shift starts. My feet dragged along the footpath and I ignore the bustling around me. It’s a Friday meaning the city is bustling with nightlife, both human and Jaxai alike. It’s been thirty-one years since the equal rights treaty was passed and human-Jaxai relations have come a long way. Although there are still hate groups amongst both the races, the majority have settled into an easy cohabitation. After all, they’d been living among the humans for centuries before they were discovered anyway.

The further I walked the sketchier the area became. It’s not the worst part of town but it’s certainly not the best. However, it’s all Mom and I can afford. Reflexively I hiked my backpack higher onto my shoulders, it pressed tight against the straps I no longer even notice. After years of wearing them I barely even realise they’re there. My wings tried their best to grow around them but the constant restraint messed them up. They’re deformed, crippled, broken. I’ll never know what it’s like to feel the wind in my hair. I’ll never be able to fly, and as much as I love my mother, I hate her for grounding me. For clipping my wings.

Most of the time I managed to forget they were there. I can pretend they’re just dead weight on my back. But nights like tonight, when the wind pushed through the city in strong bursts, causing my hair to fly around my face, it’s harder to forget.

Lost in my thoughts I didn’t notice them until I’m shoved into an alleyway. I hit the unforgiving concrete hard, scraping my face and hands. Gasping in shock and fear I quickly turned around and see them. Three men in their early twenties. They all look down at me with sneers on their faces. The one in the middle gives my body a long survey and I shuddered under his gaze. Jumping to my feet I backed away from the group and the one on the left lets out a humourless laugh.

“Well aren’t you a pretty one.” He said and I began to shake. Backing away slowly I searched desperately for an escape.

“Not so fast.” The one on the right said and he grabbed my wrist tightly. “We’ve got plans for you.” I tried to pull free but when that doesn’t work I pulled back my arm and punch him squarely in the face. He lets go and I dashed back.

“You bitch!” One of his friends’ shouted and his fist hits my face like a truck. I tumbled to the ground dazed and before I know it I’m trapped on my stomach under three heavy male bodies. I struggled with everything I have to get loose but they didn’t even budge.

“Not so tough now are you?” One whispered in my ear and terror swamps me. I bucked like crazy trying to throw them off and opened my mouth and screamed.

“Shit, shut her up!” one of them hissed and a hand is clamped over my mouth. I bite at it and it is quickly replaced with a dirty rag. I choked around it still struggling to get away from these monsters. My backpack is torn from me and I turned my head around enough to see the flash of a metal blade. The one sitting on my back, the leader of the group, smiled cruelly and waved the blade in my face.

“That’s right. Shut up and be a good little girl and we won’t kill you okay?” Tears ran down my face. Black spots danced across my vision as I sobbed around the rag. The sound of ripping fabric filled the air and I feel the cold hit my back.

“What the fuck?” the one with the knife said as he takes in my strapped wings. “Fuck. She’s one of them. A freak.” He hissed. The other two men voice their disgust and one spit in my face. My whole body burned in humiliation.

“What are we gonna do?” the spitter asked, “I ’aint touching a freak.” My heart swelled with hope. Maybe they’ll let me go. Maybe they’ll just leave and everything will be alright. Then the leader lets out a malice filled laugh and my stomach clenched in dread.

“Don’t worry I have something much better in mind now.” Confusion filled me as he starts to saw at the straps. It doesn’t take long for them to give way and soon he has my wings stretched out as far as they can. He tightly gripped them where they joined my body and leans forward to whisper in my ear.

“Let’s see how this little freak feels without her wings.”

No. Oh god no! Not my wings!

I started to struggle again but he merely laughs. I felt the cool edge of the blade rest against the ridge of my wings.

No! Stop! Please! Not my wings!

But my cries went unheard. Slowly he began to hack at the joint and trapped under their weight, with a dirty rag shoved in my mouth I began to scream.