I stood on the edge. I looked down from there and I saw people walk by. They looked like some dots painted on a canvas randomly with different colours using spray with a hard brush. They looked liked moving dots or I better say that they looked like moving ants. Colourful ants. I saw trees, I saw buildings, I saw greenery everywhere. For I was standing on the edge of top most building I could find.
I looked towards the sky and I saw sun in front of me. Blazing in the last light of the day. Dying slowly. Setting over the horizon.

The birds flied in the sky coloured in shades of red, orange and yellow. And on the other side of the sky, I could make out the moon up above. The birds filed in groups and you can hear them talking to each other in their languages.

All my life, I've wanted to fly. When I was kid, I used to look at birds in the sky. I used to feel envy of me for them. Envious for these creatures of freedom got what I wanted. They got the wings. I wanted to fly besides them. I used to look at the sky and think of touching me. I wanted to touch the clouds. I wanted to fly to those heights that no one touched ever. I wanted to fly to lands I haven't seen. I wanted to sleep flying in the moonlight. I used to feel the winds blowing on my face and I day dreamt of flying in those wings.

All these years I spend being the prisoner of the lands, my passion grew. It kept on growing until now, strengthening inside my heart.
Now, my passion had reached insanity.

"I want to fly" I said with my eyes closed, feeling the air around me.

A breeze blew. I could feel it. It talked to me. Like inviting me to its embrace. Asking me to spread my wings and fly.

Today I was going to fly. Even though for just some seconds before finally ending my life unless there occur a miracle and that miracle save my life. I can't wait another second of my life without flying.

I was waiting for the final call of the winds.
And the winds finally answered. They blew so fast around me. From front, from behind, from up from down. I was inside the ball of winds.
And I fell.

I was going slow at first but I could feel the air hitting on my face. My hands and my legs opened wide. I was enjoying the sensation I was having. The flow of winds past my ears and my hair. It made me alive. I felt I've loved just now. I was happy I finally got to fly before my death. The more I filed, the more I knew I became close to death. I was flying. I was falling.

Wait.

It hadn't ended yet.

I feel something on my back. It was paining me. On the back just opposite to where heart is on left side and on same counter on the right side. It was paining a lot. Like a baby in there or is shall better day two babies in there and they were trying to come out of me. I was feeling like pain women face during delivery of their child but just a problem was that I didn't had any hole inside my body to provide guidance to them. I was being ripped apart. It was a weird feeling because I was soothened by my passion of flying. I was like feeling happiness and feeling pain at the same time.

"let your wings come out, spread them and fly, fly like you've always wanted to, fly, fly fly" the sound fly kept on echoing. These words were said by the air. The winds. I heard her clear this time.

I tried to rip myself with my body using my will. And they tried to come out with all their force. I was being tore up from my back. Like an axe was used on there. And the sun had set by then. It was dead dark. And they came out. Like a baby bird hatching from its shell. Covered a bit in blood. But they were out. They were my wings. My feathered winds, as white as snow on colour but having crimson red spots on them of my blood. They were attached to me. And I flapped them with my will. I could control them like they were my hands. I flapped them hard and hard. As hard as I could.

And I began flying.