Thursday, September 24, 2009
Gemma first appeared in an unpublished short story, “Wings,” which may yet become a novel. Gemma’s mother abandoned her when she was a child. Mom was addicted to smoking faery dust, and now that Gem’s an adolescent she’s getting what all the daughters of dusters got – wings. Horrified and outcast, Gemma leaves home in search of her mother.
1 am: It started as an itch I couldn’t get at, but it was driving me crazy. I thought I would scratch myself raw, I mean, I really almost did. Sleep is out of the question, and that pisses me off, because I’m a bitch when I don’t get enough sleep, plus I have a Biology test second period.
2 am: Biology Shmology. What I mean is, I found out that it's not a regular itch, and actually, I am an aberration of nature. A true freak.
3 am: (Sigh, then small breath in) Little breaths as though I'm panting. I have a scissors. But then I find I can't mutilate myself, even if my self is changing and I don't like it.
4 am: Thinking of my mother. A lot.
5 am: The wings aren't going to go away. I can't cut them off. I can't scratch them off (duh). I can't just ignore them, and I don't know how the other girls with wings -- like Hope, like Mommy -- I don't know how they ever slept with all the annoying fluttering and the stupid urge to fly (like I’d ever do that!). Damn, some girls just get their periods, and isn't that hard enough when you're all alone? But they don’t know suffering like this.
5:30 am: I have to get out of here, and GET THESE F*CKING WINGS OFF MY BACK!