Page 5 of Scars Like Wings

And I ran from it all.

Clear Quartz

Iran away from the meadow. From Mom. From the idea of losing Mom. From Uncle Everett. From the hunters. From the high-rooted trees. From the lake, its waterfall, and stones that washed ashore. From the entrance, with its cute little yellow daisies. From the now-pouring rain soaking my clothes. I ran away, deeper into the woods.

I ran and ran and ran.

Through the pounding rainfall, I could hear shouting. The hunters were following me. And worse, they were too close.

I wanted to scream.

I couldn’t tell if the water in my eyes was from the rain or the tears in my eyes from the wind. Both, compacted with the rain on my glasses, made it difficult to see far in front of me. My legs cramped, burning from the exertion. I could feel blisters forming on my feet from my Converses. My scars, scratches, and bruises from my slip earlier ached, begging to be tended to. Low-hanging branches snagged on my braids, threatening to unravel them and leaving twigs and leaves behind. The branches clawed at my wet clothes, catching on them and leaving more holes and tears. But I didn’t care. The yells of the hunters were still too close. I had to put more distance between me and them. Iweaved through the trees, trying not to trip on any rocks or roots on the ground.

I had to get away.

Suddenly, my feet slipped in a patch of mud, sending me down to the bottom of a ravine. From one side, I saw what appeared to be a cave. Getting up, I ran to it and entered, going as far inside of it as fast as I could to escape.

Inside the cave, I was enveloped in complete darkness. I kept my hands close to the wall to avoid losing my way and to stay grounded. My hands occasionally grazed across something smooth and sharp, and I tripped over large rocks that felt the same, making me curse. My bruises and scratches burned and ached more with the new pains. The deeper I got, the more frequently I stumbled and the sharper the cuts became on my legs, arms, and hands. The shivers from my soggy clothes didn’t help matters, but I got up, found the wall, and kept going despite the pain. I had no choice.

Finally, a light at the end blinded me, but I ran toward it. There, the cave was bright and alive with a colorful light. The expansive area before me had to be several stories high and large enough to fit my house in tenfold. A massive waterfall descended into a turquoise lake to my left. Giant crystal pillars jutted from the ceiling, the walls, the ground, and from ponds of water on the cave floor. They were all taller and wider than me, like tree trunks. Bushes of crystals grew around the pillars and all over the cave floor. The most stunning part was how brilliantly they lit up the room. All the crystals glowed bright, in so many shades of brilliant pinks, purples, blues, and pastels so pale they were almost white. The air here was warmer, too, as if the heat was on high. I walked up to a nearby tower growing from the floor. Feeling the smoothness of the baby pink stone, I knew it was a cavern full of enormous quartz crystals.

Mom would love it.

Well, she would have loved it for me because she saw my passion for it. Even if it wasn’t for her, it wasfor me, and that was enough for her. She would have been so excited that I had found a place like this and wanted to share it with her. I could almost see her now, whole, vibrant, and alive. We would have made a day of coming here. Before we left the house, she would have filled a basket full of homemade sandwiches, cookies, and teas. She would have brought along an extra basket to collect the crystals that fell to the cavern floor and bring them back home to fill my bedroom with more shiny rocks.

On the way, Mom would have woven all sorts of stories, making the walk feel short. She likely would have told a story about centaurs that guarded the forests and healed the grass and trees from fires—she always loved to use what was around her to tell masterful stories. I would ask if the story had any truth to it, but Mom would wink, like a magician refusing to reveal her secrets. When we arrived at the cave, she would remind me that I had been born in a cave just like this one, surrounded by crystals that were bright enough for her to see her new daughter’s face. Her eyes would have lit up as brilliant as the crystals as she spoke. It would have truly been one of the best days ever.

I shook my head. We could still have that day. I’m sure we could…

I couldn’t see the other side of the cavern around the pillars, so hiding was the only and safest option. I hurried and looked around for somewhere to hide. Eventually, I saw a spot on higher ground that I had to climb a slanted pillar to get to. I carefully climbed, hoping with everything in me that I didn’t slip and add to the damage on my legs. The pillar led to a ledge of dirt hidden behind a ginormous rose quartz tower. The tower was impossibly tall, going from the bottom of the cave to the top of it. It was wider than Uncle Everett’s Suburban. But it was gorgeous, giving off a sunny light. When I arrived at the ledge, Inoticed it was radiating a soft warmth that I could feel through my dripping wet jean jacket and shirt without even touching it. It helped to calm my shivers.

I lowered down the pillar and finally caught my breath. A cramp brought my attention to my right hand. I was still holding my mom’s necklace so tightly that my knuckles were white. I relaxed my hand to let the necklace rest there.

In the brilliance of the rose quartz, I could clearly see the always-shining sheen of the obsidian in the pendant against the gold of its chain. The stone was smooth, with only a few parts of roughness to show the imperfections of the stone. I used to think the jagged and dented parts of the rock were from all the times Mom would ding the necklace on the countertop, door, fireplace, car, and everything else within her radius. Mom was rarely clumsy. Most of her actions had a special degree of grace, like the ballerina I aspired to be one day. But despite wearing the necklace every day, she never seemed to get accustomed to its weight around her neck, to how wide the stone would swing out from her. She never adjusted for it. It’s a wonder it wasn’t chipped or broken into pieces. I smiled, remembering the jokes me and Pops would make every time we heard the faithful sound of the stone hitting something.

But then, I remembered all the times she would greet me when I came home from school with a hug or come to kiss me goodnight before bed, even when I got way too old for it. That necklace would graze my skin or get squeezed between us. I always expected the rock to be cold. But the stone was always warm from where it often rested against Mom’s nicely heated skin. When the stone touched me, I always felt a wave of clarity and calm unlike any I had felt before. It was reassuring and peaceful, just like Mom’s presence. Even now, I felt it.

I hoped I would be able to give it back to Mom soon.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps down below. They crunched on the gravel near the entrance of the cave. I straightened and leaned against the rose quartz column. There had to be at least five people from the sounds of their feet, but that was just a guess. Uncle Everett was far better at this than I was. How had these guys gotten past him? Was he hurt? Did something happen?

“Find the girl. Her tracks lead here,” a stern male voice echoed through the cavern.

“Yet, her tracks end here, too,” a woman stated.

“Scatter. Look in every nook and cranny to locate the fledgling. Iwantthat girl,” the same male commanded.

I put my full weight against the crystal. My heart pounded so loud, it was a wonder it didn’t reverberate through the cave for everyone to hear. Quickly, I put mom’s necklace over my head and around my neck. The stone landed heavy against my chest in the same place where it would rest on Mom’s. It felt awkward on me, like it didn’t belong there, but I hoped it would lend me some of its calming energy. I didn’t turn the corner to look down for fear of the hunters seeing me like they had in the clearing. I pushed myself as close to the stone as I possibly could, hoping it would hide me and keep me safe.

I stilled my hand behind me as the footsteps separated throughout the cave. The echoes made it tricky to pinpoint if any footsteps were getting closer to me. I wished I could become one with the stone. I wished for so many things that my brain couldn’t keep up with each one.

Why were my hands shaking so incredibly badly? I wasn’t still cold from the rain. Actually, I felt hot. Why couldn’t I calm my trembling or my shaky breathing? Why were my palms so sweaty?

I was no match for these hunters. I didn’t have any weapons. I knew how to fight a little—thanks to Everett and Pops—but notenough to take on all of them. There was only one exit, and the hunters were blocking it. What was I going to do?

I was trapped.

What was I going to do? I couldn’t shift yet, and I didn’t have any powers like Mom, Pops, Uncle Everett, or anyone else. Pops could control the wind, for crying out loud, along with turning into a flying dragon. My mom could control lava and form rocks made of fire in her hands. Lava! Fire rocks! Not to mention, she could turn into a giantfire-breathingdragon! If they could bring her to her knees, what chance did I have against them? Plus, I had no idea what they did to my Uncle Everett, a griffin-shifter. A literal humongous hybrid between an eagle and a lion! I had always imagined that Mom, Pops, Uncle Everett, and the rest of our tiny family were close to invincible. They could turn into freaking massive creatures and had all sorts of magical abilities. I thought they could take on and defeat anyone. But I was wrong. I was so very wrong.