Atala Alice | Teen Ink

Atala Alice

January 13, 2015
By Rayque BRONZE, Clarkston, Michigan
Rayque BRONZE, Clarkston, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

     There is a certain myth that has popped up in the last ten years that’s become popular in my town. The same “teach-a-lesson” type of myth taught to kids to always accept one another, except this one was “made up” by a “delusional child” who needed medical attention for his “fantasies”.
         One definition of a myth is; a fictitious person or thing, but, for some reason, this myth was neither to me.
                               ******
A young boy was wandering alone in a field, lost. He called and called for anyone, but no one answered. Tired from walking such a great distance, he laid down to rest in the towering dead grass.
         The sky was a baby blue with cumulus clouds scattered about the cheerful canvas moving at an andante pace. The soothing tempo played on until a mysterious melody could barely be heard in the distance; a slow, beautiful, and relaxed tune. The melody became louder and louder until the tempo stopped completely to reveal the instrument.
           An enchanting figure lay with their head propped up lazily on its hands looking downwards. A slight breeze came and the figures head seemed to have set ablaze, fiercely and brightly. Suddenly the eyes peered open slowly to which the boy could have sworn they were made of emeralds. A smile crept upon the figures petite face creating a beam of light upon, the now revealed, girl’s sanctuary.
         “H-hello.” The boy said in a small voice.
         “Hello lost one, I have heard your pleas, do you seek help?” She smiled slightly. The boy nodded quickly and stood up. The ground seemed to float closer to the sky as he did so. “I would… but it seems I have been locked up.” The girl said with a small laugh pointing down to her bruised ankle.
         “Why?” the boy stared worryingly at her ankle.
         “You see, I am an angel.” The boy’s eyes widened in disbelief, “But I am a little… different from the others.” Her smile disappeared.
         “How ‘come?” the boy crept closer to the close emerging cloud.
         “My wings they-” the angel choked out.
         After some silence the boy whispered, “May I see?” The cloud now only five feet above the ground. She nodded yes slowly and sat straight backed.
         A sudden gust of wind forced the boys eyes closed leaving him in curious darkness. The wind let up and as the boys eyes opened the most astonishing creature sat before him.
         It was no longer the same mesmerizing fire-headed girl, but now a majestic bird perched up confidently. On either side of her was two large feathered wings; the pure bright white was tainted with an occasional black feather creating a conflicting image.
         “See? I am different. So I must repent for my sins and ask for forgiveness.” The angel sobbed.
The boy walked closer with an awe stricken look, “Why? They’re so beautiful.”
     “You’re… you’re the first one to ever say that.” The angel said avoiding the question, not bothering to wipe her tears at all. “Since I’m not like everyone else, I must ask to become like the rest before I can go back.”
     “But why?” the boy questioned further. The angel stared at the boy not knowing what to say.
     “Because it isn’t acceptable to be like this.” She said with hesitation.
     “Like what? You seem perfectly fine to me!” the boy smiled.
The angel reached down to place her trembling hand on the boy’s face. “The others don’t like it when someone is different. They want everyone to be the same.”
“Like robots?” the angel stared in shock of the revelation the boy had just said.
     “Like… robots… yes. Except it’d be a little silly for a robot to have wings, wouldn’t it?” the angel smiled brightly and wept her last tear. The boy stood proudly and confidently in front of the angel. “I have something for you, to help you.” the angel beckoned the boy closer. Out from her open palm sprang a full grown white rose. “This will lead you to where you need to be.” The angel pointed behind the boy to which he turned and saw the towering dead grass make way for a single-file-line of white roses leading to beyond where the eye could see.
     “I’ll be on my way then.” The boy hopped onto his given path waving. The angel lay back down onto her cloud and began humming, to a different tune, but the same calm feeling was back in the air.
     The boy turned to say goodbye again to the angel but once he had done so the mountainous grass was now replaced with well-kempt fresh green grass scattered with the occasional oak tree.
     “Toby!” called a familiar voice to the boy. He turned slightly to see he was in the front yard of his earth-tone house along with the rows of other mirrored houses with the driveway precisely to the left of the house. “It’s time to eat dinner, Toby!” The boy stared blankly at the house confused on the change of scenery. “Is that one of my flowers?!” the familiar woman came stomping forward and took the rose right out of the boys hand.
     “Ugh, This one doesn’t even matter, it’s a dud ya’ see?” the woman pointed out one of the petal’s on the outer ring, “One petal is stained black, we can’t have that in our garden!” the woman sauntered back up the freshly washed sidewalk mumbling; “We’ll go out tomorrow morning to get rid of those pesky black and white ones, it must be precise.”
     The boy stood there for a minute staring at the black and white rose in his hand. Slowly he began walking down the street, watching the clouds pass by at an andante pass playing a calm tempo. Perfect for a slow, relaxing melody.


The author's comments:

I had an idea about this piece for quite some time and decided instead of making it into a novel, i'd make it into a short story. 


Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.