Diary of the Winged Wonder


Dear Diary,

I woke up this morning to discover I’d sprouted a pair of wings. How’s that for headline news? It sounds crazy, I know, but I swear on Kevin’s dimples it’s true. They’re covered in gray, iridescent feathers, and they’re somewhat large-ish in size (the wings, not the dimples obviously). I haven’t been able to measure the wingspan or anything because I can’t figure out how to unfold them, but the tips reach the backs of my knees.

I freaked out when I saw them. I didn’t even realize I was screaming until my parents ran into the room, looking like they expected to see an ax murderer chopping up their daughter. The reality was just as bad in my opinion, but then my mom spotted the wings and was all, “Jesus, April, why don’t you overreact a little?” And Dad was like “I think they look bangin’. That’s what the kids say nowadays, right?”

It’s times like these I’m convinced my parents escaped the mental hospital and have been hiding out for the last who-knows-how-many years. I can’t even be sure our last name is Cumberbatch. It sounds made up, if you ask me.

So anyway, because they clearly failed to appreciate the gravity of my plight, my parents forced me to go to school, which I found wholly unfair. None of my shirts fit over my freshly grown bird flappers, so I had to raid my dad’s closet, and ended up with a barfy brown trenchcoat over a gag worthy Tommy Bahama rag, the combination of which made me look like a lady hunchback trying to disguise a pregnancy. It was a disaster, but I prayed nobody would notice…

Which I now know was a miracle no God has the power to grant. Until today, I always considered being invisible the worst fate imaginable, but after a day where every hall and classroom was filled with whispers and giggles and stares (oh, my), I can’t deny its benefits.

Oh, but the most amazing thing happened. Kevin Corlett, also known as Mr. McDimples, actually spoke to me. Eeeeeeeeek! Can you believe it? He leaned toward me during Algebra while we were doing quadratic equations, and he goes, “What’s up, April? I like your look today.” I was so flustered and blushing so bad, all I could manage was a mumbled thank you. And maybe it wasn’t the most Shakespearean exchange between two people, but it was good enough for me. Then I made the mistake of turning and seeing him smile at me, and BOOM, the dimples turned me stupid. I don’t have a decent excuse for what occurred next. All I can say is that I knew I needed to keep him smiling so that I could keep looking at his dimples, and before I could stop myself, this popped out of my mouth:

“Why did the banana go to the doctor? Because he wasn’t peeling well.”

I wanted to die as soon as I said it. I wanted the earth to split open and swallow me whole. In a way, I accomplished my mission because those gorgeous dimples were on full display. But I think his giant grin had less to do with the joke and more to do with the fact that I was a big lame freak. So yeah, it was amazing that Kevin acknowledged me, that we shared a moment. I just have serious reservations about ever showing my face around him again… If there’s a bright side to my humiliation though, I forgot about my newfound wings for five seconds. Then the bell rang, and a small pile of feathers dropped to the floor as I stood to leave.

Thankfully I finished the rest of the school day without further incident. I was able to get out of gym class by complaining that I was suffering from crippling menstrual cramps. It worked today, but I doubt it’ll work again tomorrow. If I’m lucky, I’ll wake up in the morning and I won’t have to worry about it. Maybe the wings will disappear just as suddenly as they appeared. Good riddance, I say.

Well, dear diary, it’s been a long, weird day, and I still have a buttload of homework to get through, so I guess I should say good night. Wish me luck that everything will be back to normal in the a.m.





To be continued…


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