She wasn't ordinary

She knew she was never meant to blend in. 

Sometimes it bothered her how too different she was, how she seemed to be a mutated piece of the rest of society's puzzle. 

She tried this conformity thing but it stung, screaming back at her what she already knew - 'you're not meant to be ordinary.'

Standing out is crazy when everyone else is sitting down and seemingly enjoying it. 

The mistake she made when she tried to stand was watch those that were sitting; they weren't paying attention to her, like she was invisible. And if they did, it was to point out how silly she looked standing. Attention should never have been the reason she stood up. She sat back down. But then, that conformity sting couldn't be ignored.

'Take some pain-killers and forget the pain.' No, Fear, you take a seat as I go for what's meant for me.

So, she stood back up; this time, unconcerned if anyone was looking or not.

 'Expression, not impression,' she reminded herself. 'You don't need an audience.'

She stood not to prove a point to anybody but herself. 'Just how high can I reach?' Her only competition was herself, and she had to win.

She gazed up to the blue sky. It had streaks of soft, wavy white. She kept gazing. A massive blue sky of endless greatness. The more she kept her head up, the less fearful she felt, and the fainter the voices of the seated became.

Walt Whitman's words came to her mind,

'I exist as I am, that is enough. If no other in the world be aware, I sit content. And if each and all be aware, I sit content. One world is aware and by far the largest to me and that is myself. And whether I come to my own today or in ten thousand, or ten million years, I can cheerfully take it now, or with equal cheerfulness, I can wait.'

She smiled.

With her right hand, she unclipped her wings, and out they spread in glorious display. Her feet defied gravity and gradually she ascended up, one flap at a time. She soared into the sunset.