Feathers

• Anna Quinn, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2018

Once upon a time there was a girl named Aspen born heir to the throne of a perfect city surrounded by a tightly knit forest. The girl grew up pampered, but despite the perfect comfort within the castle walls, often would simply run away on her own to explore the small town she would someday rule. It was on one such occasion that she met Ava.

Though no one else knew anything of this girl, their relationship developed very quickly. Despite protests from the king and queen, only just teenagers, they promised each other eternity. When Ava suggested running away, it wouldn’t have been incorrect to say that Aspen was too in love with her, with her mystery, to even consider opposing.

They gathered supplies and met the next day, grabbing each other’s hand as they took their first steps towards freedom. But it was not to be so. As soon as Aspen entered the woods her head spun and her vision darkened. Ava’s hand fell from her own and she thudded to the ground. The months after had Aspen locked in her room and consulted many times by the same few doctors in the town to no avail. She was now permanently fragile, and was to live her life inside the castle walls.

If Aspen has felt trapped before, this was excruciating. In the years that followed she wondered why Ava had not even tried to visit. One break from the monotony was that every year on her birthday she was left a dark feather on her windowsill. It took Aspen until she had collected four feathers to get an opportunity to escape. She took these feathers, shoved them in the same bag she had once packed with supplies and once again set to leave the town; even if it killed her, especially if it killed her.

It took hours of hobbling past the guards to finally get out of the castle and to the forest, only her own hand to hold. She felt herself growing faint as she weaved around the trees, felt a feeling of claustrophobia not only caused by the shadows on either side. Aspen glimpsed a figure standing in front of her.

Ava felt the tears start as she saw that beautiful face, pale and screaming at her. Aspen ran at her feverishly, Ava stepping away hesitantly but immediately regretting it as Aspen tumbled to the ground. The tears continued as the feathers tumbled from the satchel bag and fell atop the body of the girl, overtaken by the sickness that was the only true barrier around the city. And suddenly the many secrets of the lonely town, of the forest, and of Ava herself, were meaningless. Ava kissed the other girl, opposite and identical to her in every way and disappeared behind a tree.

Silently, a bird emerged, dropping one last feather on top of Aspen. Five feathers for five years they had been together, and five years apart. The bird flew.