Nora and Kettle
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
If I had wings, they would be black sin and feathered. Not a flat color, but iridescent shining with hues of purple, green and blue catching the light with the barest fingertips. And when I needed, I could fold into the darkest shadows and hide this time between the dark and the dawn is mine. I roll from my bed and slipped quietly across the four, avoiding the creeks and a shadowy dance. No one will ever see my ears tuned to the non existent noises around me, and I sighed ghostlike with relief, because in this time he sleeps. A snap of a memory flashes through my mind and body as I feel the sharp, short cracks delivered this time. This time I ease the dresser drawer out, holding my breath as tiny splinters catch the sides and reach underneath the lace and silk to the boy's pants hidden beneath quickly, I slide them on my bruises, objecting as I been to fasten them, tucking the ends of my nightdress into the waste iPad to the window across from our brownstone, one light shines dimly through a dirty window, someone leaving or returning from a shift. A refrigerator light something simple and easy. I crinkle my nose and think of all the hundreds of people who live in that apartment building. How is it that only one solitary light shines? I quirk my lips into an unsure smile, a new split stinging as it stretches apart. This is why it is my time bending and flexing my legs. I take a deep breath and push the window ajar. It protests, groaning as I push my tour so out and use my back to push it up. Settling on the window sill, I close it down, pulling a small comb from my pocket and wedging it in the gap so I can get back in perched like a bat. Readyto launch into the night. My eyes dart to the corner of the building to the rickety fire escape that would be much easier to climb. A car light bends over the gap in the iron and fans out like a punch in a comic book whim. I sticker to myself, the laugh seeming foreign jarring. I'm not supposed to laugh. I'm a sad girl with a sad life, but it is my life, and tonight I'm going to fly. I faced my window and grasp the drain pipe that runs the length of the building, staring up at the sky for a moment, I search out my destination. The one error in the building, which grates on him, invites me. One beam they forgot to trim sits out from the wall like a pirate ship plank. I dig my bare toes into the warn spaces between the bricks and climb. I'm a shadow taped to the wall, scaling the pipe in solid but fast movements, breathing hard and forgetting everything. The sky and the stars hang around just for me. They cling to the fading darkness and I let them spark my senses. The night air closes in like the wings of a crow. Follow zing over protecting and gifting me something I lack. I passed the window of our sleeping neighbors and shake my head. They won't hear me. I breathe in deeply car exhaust films the air, but it lightens, sweetens as I climb overhead. The plank cast a cool shadow over the building, lengthening as the moon starts to dip away and the sun coaxes the sky into pinks and oranges. My time is Onley minutes. My mind is on Lee on the hands pulling me up and the legs stabilizing me. I dig my toes into the brackets holding the pipe. It cuts in, but my skin is toughening through scars, criss crossing over other scars. I throw my head back, my hair whispering and sticking to my cheeks. Sweat makes my grip slippery. It takes more concentration, more strength to hold on. But that's why I like it. This risk sends flickers through my heart. Pinprick lights like the points of a star. It keeps something beating that could be dead should be dead. But I can't let it. I won't.