I Can Fly

The views were magnificent. In fact, if I could be so bold, I'd say it was the most gorgeous thing I'd ever saw. The hike took all night, and we managed to reach the summit of the mountain right before daybreak. Which would be now, I suppose.

I'm not sure why we decided to climb up here. None of us are really outdoorsy sorts, except for Peter, I guess. He likes fishing and hiking and stuff like that. He stands to my left, right behind me a bit, talking to Anne about the pinks and the greys in the sky, and she's making some noncommittal sound. She wasn't big on the idea, but since her boyfriend was out of town for the weekend, she decided to come with us. Naturally, she complained the whole time about the cold of the night air, the bugs, and the chances of us all falling to our death.

I came because it was something to do. I hadn't done it before, and I had always been a bit obsessed with the towering monster that lived at my back my whole life. When I was little, my dad used to tell me stories of trolls and ogres that lived up here, waiting to come down and eat kids who misbehaved. I laughed a bit, thinking of that as I stare out at a vast amount of nothing. Dense fog covered up the small town and surrounding forest below us. The only thing we could see was a white, fluffy carpet and an ever brightening sky. It was that perceived magical moment between night and day. The sun just barely peaking above the horizon but enough to light the sky up in different colors while the air around you swirled and created chillbumps on your arms.

"It looks like the fog could catch you." I say, looking back to the two behind me who are now sitting on a fallen log. Anne picking at her nails, Peter taking a picture with his phone.

"I wouldn't try it." Anne said without looking up, her tone bored and almost lifeless. I'm still not sure why we're friends.

I shrug and walk towards them, but it feels like there's a rope tied around my waist. A lasso of some pretty cowboy pulling me towards him. I get a foot or so away from the two on the log before turning back around, my hands on my hips, my teeth chewing on my already raw and chapped bottom lip.

I pull my hair out of the messy bun I had pulled it up into the night before, before we trekked our asses up here. I kick off my shoes and socks. I strip down to my underwear and cami.

Peter stands up. "Lucy... what are you doing? You're going to freeze."

I turn my head, a grin plastered on my face. "No I won't. I'm going to fly." I hear Anne let out a tired sigh as I look straight ahead and get a running start. It's like running before jumping off a diving board almost. The bits of rocks and dirt and branches pinching into the skin of my feet like pebbles and cement surrounding a pool. I reach the lip, my hands reaching out and pushing off a sapling like you would the metal bars.

The early morning wind flips me over. The edge of the mountain is empty. Peter and Anne must have decided to run away. Bastards always do that right as the cool shit starts.

I'm flipped again, the rush of the wind making my eyes sting and water so much I have to close them, which is a shame. My hair is being whipped in all directions, and suddenly I can't feel my own body.

But that's okay. I don't have to. As I rush into the blanket of fog, all I can think is that line from Superman.

It's a bird. It's a plane.

No, it's a girl that learned how to fly.