I look in the mirror at my hair. It doesnt look bad, not in the slightest. It's just different. The prickles are a little longer now. That's weird, they grow freakishly fast. I walk back into the livingroom.

"Thanks for the haircut mom." I say with a grin.

"You're welcome kiddo." She replies. My back starts to hurt again and I groan.

"That didn't last long." I say.

"Let me lift up the back of your shirt. I want to check it." She says, and I oblige. I turn around and she lifts it up. She gasps.

"What is it?" I ask worriedly.

"Oh Ace- Ace sweetie." She sounds choked up.

"What?" I'm scared now.

"You... your shoulders... they're covered in down feathers. Honey, you're growing wings." She says.

---

Its Tuesday morning, I go back to school today. I look in the mirror and stretch the new muscles that have been growing. Small-ish appendages covered in down feathers stretch out and open. The back of my head, neck, and shoulders have all been growing down feathers. I did some research, and at this rate I'll get feathers and full-sized wings by the middle of next month. I need to keep my wings down, so over the weekend mom bought me a tight-fitting tank-top to put over them.

I put on my t-shirt over my tank-top and a pair of pants. Then I got breakfast. Once I finished that, I grabbed my backpack and hopped in the car.

"Just about two months until summer break. By next school-year, you'll be flying yourself to school." Mom joked and pulled out of the driveway.

"Yeah, but that's if I can teach myself to fly by then." I replied. I ran my hand through the down feathers. They move up and down and rest in an uncomfortable position. So I start moving them with my fingers until they lie comfortably flat against my head. The feathers on my back are uncomfortable and in odd positions, but I can't really do anything about it until I get home.

"How well do you think your down feathers will blend in with your hair?"

"For now, I don't think anyone will notice. They're the same color as my hair." I reply. "But when the flight feathers start growing in..."

"You'll already be out of school." Mom continues. "I'll try to rent a cabin or something in the country. Wide, open spaces and no one to watch."

"Thanks mom." I hug her. She pulls into the school parking lot and I give her a quick kiss. "Love you."

"Love you too Azazel." She smiles. I hop out, wave, then walk in towards the cafeteria. I sit down at the pretty much 'loser table' and hold my head in my hand with my elbow propped up on the table. I have a bored expression on my face and I scratch at the right side of my face, around my ear area and under my chin.

Great. There's feathers growing there too. I work on getting the dead skin off that side, then move to my left. People look at me, then look away. Looks like my fight from last week stuck around. Good.

Soon we have to head to class. I shoulder my backpack and it uncomfortably squished my feathers. I decide to hold it instead and I walked to my first period. I sat in my desk- at the back of the class- and put my backpack down displeased. I tapped my nails against the desk as I waited for class to start.

The tapping sounds different. I look down at my nails to find that they're growing sharper than regular human nails. Talons. I guess I'm some sort of predatory bird. The teacher begins class and I stop. I sigh and try to pay attention.

It's like this in all my classes. I sit bored, distracted by my feathers, and take notes when the teacher tells me to. Then, finally, lunch. I convinced mom to let me take a different kind of lunch today to see if my taste buds changed, so I took mostly meat. I sit at my usual table and dig in. I prefer the hotdog and other soft meat over the tougher stuff, but I eat everything anyway. I gnaw on the bone of the rib I took with me thoughtfully.

What kind of bird am I? Am I no kind of bird that exists, because I used to be human? That's probably the case. It definitely changed my diet preferences. People continue to stare at me, and I just glare right back. I throw away my trash and sigh. Time for my last three classes. I can't seem to focus on them.

The next thing I know, I'm hoping into my mom's car and headed home again.

"How was school?" She asked.

"Fine I guess."

"Are you ok?" She looked concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Feathers are bothering me a bit is all." I nod.

"Alright. When we get home, let's check them, ok?"

"M'kay ma." I nod again and lean back. Mom pulls out of the parking lot and drives towards our house. My wings squish uncomfortably against the seat and I cringe. I can pull through, I can do this. It's not that far.

When we pull into the driveway, I immediately unbuckle and jump out of the car while it's still moving. I run to the door, pace impatiently by the door til mom unlocks it, then run inside. I immediately tear off my shirt and tank-top and stretch my wings.

"Thank God almighty!" I yell and sigh with relief. I stretch my wings all the way up and out as far as I can and shake them out.

"That uncomfortable?" Mom asks.

"My feathers have been folded the wrong way all day." I reply and sit on the couch. I stretch one of my wings over and start fixing the feathers, arranging them in their proper positions. Mom watches quietly from the door, then walks into the kitchen.