All we have

### Bio Mom's POV:

Sweat poured down my face, stinging my eyes. As I blinked furiously to clear my vision, I caught a glimpse of the doctor. His face was terrified—a mask of pure fear that sent a jolt of panic through my body. Daniel, the father of my children, stood beside me, his expression mirroring the doctor’s: wide-eyed and paralyzed by shock.

“What is wrong? What is wrong? Please, answer me!” I screamed; my voice raw. “What is happening?” The doctor took a shaky breath, visibly trying to regain his composure. “Um, ma’am,” he stammered, his voice trembling, “your babies are… well, they are different if that’s the best way to put it.” Panic surged within me; my heart raced as I turned to Daniel. “Daniel, please, just tell me. What. Is. Wrong?”

He swallowed hard, his face contorting as if trying to calculate the impossible. Finally, he managed to say, “They have wings.” The gravity of his words hung in the air, leaving me breathless and struggling to comprehend the reality of what I had just given birth to. “There is no way. Tell me you guys are kidding or just joking.”

“Ma’am it is called Scapular dyskinesis unless they are like one of those kids with abilities the “Others.” The doctor said in a grave voice

“Can I see my kids?” I asked. When he held them up, I saw two heads of soft black hair and pale skin, but then I noticed the wings curled upon their small backs. He handed me my kids as if they were poison. When they opened their eyes, I saw that they were amber and onyx-colored.

In a panic, I thrust them back toward the doctor. “Give them to another family! I’m not sure I want to be labeled with the mother of two Others! The boy’s name is Ambeer, and the girl’s name is Onyx; just get them out of my sight!” I screamed, my voice raw from it all.

### Ambeer's POV:

Ambeer's Journal:

The third month of this house. Longest we have been in one home..Today was good, just rushes of memories. Tyler, a sweet little boy learned how to ride his bike today...he queen put yet another law up. I think it was something about, I don't know... Everywhere is degrading. I was thinking for a while so,That'ss why I am so tired.

I am looking back at it all, it feels weird to think how we seemed to move to a new house almost every single month. Each time, it was like we were packing up our lives, our memories, and ourselves, only to start all over again in a completely different environment. Since I can remember, we’ve lived in five different states, often feeling entirely out of place. The constant change felt less like new chances and more like an endless cycle of uprooting, leaving us craving stability that always seemed just out of reach. Life hasn’t been easy for us, to say the least. We’ve faced so much: the physical injuries, the emotional scars, and the mental toll of coping with it all. It’s a jumble of feelings that I struggle to juggle.

My sister, Onyx, is struggling with the weight of it. Every night, she wakes up screaming from nightmares, her fear hurting her mentally. The last home broke her too much; the nightmares are much worse. She never told me what happened, and it breaks my heart to watch her suffer like this. She’s built up these walls around her, built from fear and distrust. Sometimes, it even feels like she doesn’t trust me, her brother, which is one of the most painful things to witness. I sometimes wish that we could find just a little piece of peace and stability in this chaotic world, somewhere where we can feel safe.

But here we are, on the third month in our new home, and it’s, well, different. The number of kids in this house is crazy. I think there are twelve adopted kids and nine biological ones. It's like living in a packed school instead of a cozy family home. The parents here, particularly the mom, Jessie, don’t trust Onyx and me around their children, so we sleep in the same room together. Honestly, sharing a room is nothing new for us, even though I wish it weren’t necessary.

Jessie is a devout believer and holds strong convictions about her faith. She seems to think that if she crams her beliefs down our throats, it will somehow purify us of our "monstrosity," as she puts it. Onyx likes the fact that a divine being made her the way she is and it was not a big mistake so I am not going to ruin it for her. But hey, at least Jessie makes some incredible food. Her cooking is one of the few comforts in this chaotic life. We have to clean our feathers; they shed a lot, turning our living space into a feather-filled mess. It’s a strange reminder of what we are sometimes, and honestly, it can be a bit annoying.

Then there’s Tyrone, the dad of the house. He’s this imposing figure, big and strong, almost like a bear. Despite his size, he does not get angry easily. He believes everyone should know how to protect themselves, and he’s been teaching me self-defense moves.

Another odd challenge we face is the clothing situation. We have to make holes in our shirts for our wings! The process isn’t hard for me because I have the power to manipulate objects around me. But for Onyx, it's a different story; her abilities seem limited by a power block, restricting her from creating basic things like scissors. I can see the frustration in her eyes when she struggles with that.

“Onyx, wake up! Onyx, hey, wake up. It's okay. It’s over now,” I murmured, trying to soothe her as she rolled over. Her delicate wings—black as midnight with shimmers of blue and red hues—drag lazily against the cold cement floor as she yawns, clearly disoriented.

“I don’t remember,” she mumbles, her voice thick with sleep. “I’m so tired. Just let me sleep, please.” She pats the bed sleepily, her eyes barely open. “Please come…”

I settle down gently beside her on the worn, ratty bed and drape her even more securely with her colorful crochet blanket, its edges frayed but comforting. I tenderly brush her silky black hair away from her face, the strands wet with sweat. “Onie, I’m going to get your meds and some water. Just stay here, okay?”

As I push myself up, I make sure not to disturb her blanket, knowing how much she relies on its warmth to feel safe. I cross the space in just three long strides and creep down the narrow staircase, acutely aware of the creaky spots in the wooden steps, careful not to wake the little ones sleeping soundly in the adjacent room.

Once I reach the kitchen, the dim glow of the fridge light casts a soft illumination on the chaos that greets me: a spilled cereal box and a few scattered toys left behind by our younger siblings. Suddenly, Tyrone pops up like a cat, alert and on guard. “Always need to know your surroundings. What are you doing, Lil Man?” he whispers, his eyes sharp with concern yet his voice low to avoid disturbing anyone.

“I need Onie’s meds,” I reply, stifling a yawn. The exhaustion from the night weighs heavily on me now. “She had a bad one.”

Without another word, Tyrone steps over to the fridge, filling a cup with cold water before pulling out Onyx’s medication from the top shelf. He hands both to me, his expression a mixture of understanding and worry. “Here. Get some rest after this. You need it,” he insists, his voice still a whisper, emphasizing the importance of me taking care of myself too.

I nod gratefully, clutching the cup and the little bottle of meds. As I head back up the stairs, I take a deep breath, knowing she is going to be rough.

### Onyx's POV:

Ambeer quietly tiptoes into the dimly lit room, trying not to disturb the slumbering little ones down the hall. His black, satiny wings shimmer slightly in the low light, casting shadows in the small doorway. As he gently lowers himself onto the edge of the bed, it sinks slightly in response. He stifles a yawn and glances back at me, his eyes heavy with sleep. “Onie, here, take this,” he murmurs, offering a small glass and a bottle filled with pills before he pushes himself up and crosses the room to his bed. The bed creaks softly again as he sinks into it.

“Get some sleep. Love you, Onie,” he whispers, his voice barely a breath above a whisper before rolling over and falling asleep almost instantly. As he drifts away, I set the glass and pills on the nightstand, my heart burning with concern. He worries far too much about everything; his mind is swirling with thoughts that have begun to take a toll on him. The dark circles under his eyes and the unhealthy dips of his cheeks only worsen my worry; he looks so tired, so worn.

With a glance at his form, I roll over to my other side and slide beneath the bed, my wings getting caught atop the covers. I stretch my hand out to the loose floorboard that’s been my secret hideaway, pulling it up to reveal my stash, a collection of photographs and jewelry carefully tucked away from prying eyes.

At the very top lies a picture, slightly crumpled. It captures a moment in time when Ambeer, Fenix, and I were together in one of our shared homes. The three of us are caught mid-laugh, Ambeer and I entwined in a warm hug, our faces radiating joy. Fenix stands slightly off to the side, smiling broadly but hesitant to get too close. Just looking at that picture sends a pang deep into my chest, and I hastily toss it back into the hole. Tears well up but I wipe them away.

Next, my fingers graze an intricately designed necklace. It has a gold shimmer, and nestled in its center is a deep blue stone. I remember the day I received it; it was my fourth birthday, and a kind lady—whose face now blurs in my memory—had gifted it to me. She thought it was beautiful and bought it with a twinkle in her eye, though I later learned it was a cheap imitation. Regardless, that necklace has always held a special place in my heart.

With a gentle sigh, I place the necklace back into the hiding place. Sighing softly, I pull the loose floorboard back into place, shutting away those precious reminders of pain.

When I finally crawled back up from the floor, I found Lilly, one of the little kids, sitting on my bed with a huge grin across her face. “Lilly, what are you doing in here?” I asked softly, trying to keep my voice down so as not to wake my sleeping brother.

“I came to wake you up! It’s time for your first day of school!” she announced proudly, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Okay… What time is it?”

“6:30,” she whispered, bouncing slightly on the edge of the bed.

“Oh, okay. I’ll go get Ambeer up. You can go out now.”

“Okay!” she chirped, springing up and dashing out the door like a whirlwind.

Four hours since I opened that floorboard, that flew by quickly. I pushed myself upright and quietly shut our door. I padded over to Ambeer’s bed, shaking him gently. “Hey, it’s time to get up. Come on, lazy head,” I teased with a laugh.

“Okay, okay, I’m up,” he chuckled before suddenly turning serious. “Did you sleep?”

“Yes,” I lied, hoping he wouldn’t press.

“Alright, I’m going to get dressed, so out you go.” I playfully shoved him toward the door.

“I’ll be quick!” I called back through the closed door.

I rummaged through my closet and picked out a loose white sweater with my name embroidered on the bottom in light blue font and a pair of ripped light blue jeans. Grabbing my favorite cowboy boots, I felt a familiar struggle as I pulled the sweater on; it always seemed to get caught on my wings. After finally wrestling myself free, I called out, “You can come in now!”

### Ambeer’s POV:

As I step through the door, my wings brush the hard doorway. Onyx's face lights up with a radiant smile. “How do you like it?” she asks, her voice brimming with excitement.

I take a moment to take in the space, the fall colors that she has carefully arranged. “It's pretty,” I respond, matching her excitement.

I chuckle as I grab a loose strand of her tangled black hair that falls over her shoulder. “Although,” I tease, arching an eyebrow, “you need to do something with this! It looks like you wrestled a bear!”

Her eyes widen in mock horror, and she pouts playfully. “Can you braid it?” she pleads, her tone turning earnest. “You are so much better than I am! And since my hair is so long,” so points to the ground where the last of her hair ends at her ankles “I can’t reach it.”

With a groan of fake boredom, I roll my eyes. “Fine! Hand me the brush and some hair ties. I’m doing two Dutch braids.” I can’t help but smile at her excitement. As she rummages through her supplies, I try to quickly comb my hair.

With the brush in hand, I settle down beside her, ready to weave her hair into two long braids, my fingers deftly working with the soft strands, effortlessly intertwining them while we laugh and chat about the new home. When I finish adjusting her hairstyle, I hand her the mirror, my heart racing with anticipation. “How do you like it?” I asked. She gasped, her eyes widening in awe as a broad smile lit up her face. "I love it!" she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement. “You know that Dutch braids are my favorite!”

She turned around and faced me, saying “Okay, now you need to get dressed yourself, mister!” She stuck out her bottom lip in a mock pout. “You look like a fish!” she exclaimed, flapping her hands around. It was ridiculous.

She spun around towards our tiny closet, her tall frame disappearing momentarily as she rummaged through its disorganized contents. A few moments later, she emerged holding a black long-sleeve shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and my favorite shoes—sleek and comfortable. “Here!” she declared, hands on her hips. “I’m going to the bathroom. K?”

She bounced away, leaving me holding the clothes.

I quickly got dressed, utilizing my unique ability to manipulate my clothes with ease. The fabric swirled around my body, effortlessly adjusting itself to accommodate my wings, which usually pose a challenge with most clothing. Once I felt comfortable and presentable, I took a deep breath and stepped out of my bedroom.

As I exited, I was immediately greeted by a whirlwind of activity in the hallway. All the kids were bustling about as they prepared for the day ahead. Onyx and Gabby spotted me, their faces lighting up with laughter as they shared a joke.

“Come on, we’ve got to go!” Gabby urged, grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the door. But just as quickly as she had taken my hand, she dropped it, turning away abruptly to follow a sudden distraction. I exchanged puzzled glances with Onyx, both of us unsure of what had just happened.

“Um, what’s going on?” I asked, my brow furrowing in confusion. Onyx shrugged.

“Come on! We have to get to the bus stop. If we miss the bus, Mom will make us walk.” Gabby’s voice was urgent, but there was a distant look in her eyes. Onyx snatched her purse from the table and headed out the door. I followed suit, grabbing my backpack.

As we walked to the bus stop, Onyx leaned in and whispered, “People are staring.” I cast a subtle glance around and saw other kids pointing and joking, their laughter cutting through the cool morning air like a knife. Some shouted taunts, asking if we were toxic and broken. Up ahead, I caught sight of Gabby, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as insults were thrown at her. She slowed down, allowing us to catch up, and when she did, her voice was thick with simmering anger. “I wish Mom hadn’t picked me for the chore,” she muttered, her frustration fuming.

Onyx flinched at Gabby’s words, her eyes widening as she instinctively retreated into her “safe place.” She began to fade into herself, her posture collapsing as she hung her head low and slowed her pace. The vibrant energy she had just moments ago evaporated, leaving behind a sorrowful version of Onyx, weighed down by the cruelty of the moment.

### Onyx's POV:

I am trapped in a maze, maybe a labyrinth is better— of memories, each one more suffocating than the last. The weight of them presses down on me, making each step feel like a struggle for air— as if an unseen force is gripping my chest and whispering for me to stop breathing. When I finally look up, I find Ambeer watching me, concern etched across his face. “Onie?” he calls. “Are you okay? If you want, we can go back. I’m sure Jessie won’t mind.” His voice softens.

“No. Why would she let us? She already despises us; we don’t need her hollow sympathy! I just... I need to breathe!” I snap, tears pricking at my eyes. As soon as I speak, I see the pain flash across Ambeer’s face, as I look up with tears. I pull my wings forward to cover my face, so I don’t have to see the pain and he won’t see my tears.

As salty hot tears drip down my face with no stopping Gabby announces “We are at the bus stop, Things.” When we got to the bus stop, the bus driver told me and Ambeer we couldn’t get on. “Why don’t you weirdos like ya know, fly there or something?” His gruff, harsh voice barely floated to my ears.

“Onyx, come on. Let's walk,” Ambeer says and turns to start walking.

“No, I said fly there, not walk! Fly! Show us what your ‘things’ can do.”

### Ambeer's POV:

Onyx looks back at me, deciding whether or not to listen to their cruel chants. Hurt and fear are apparent on her face. “Let’s go; we don’t need them. They are fools,” I spit. Before I turn away, I see Grace sneering along with the other kids and the bus driver. Onyx has a new level of hurt flashing across her face; her only new friend in this environment has ditched her. I can already see her walls going up brick by brick.

I spread my wings wide; the kids shut up and stare. Then, I turn to run, pulling my wings back. “Onie, run!” I scream. The kids' chants start again from the bus, echoing around us as we run behind the building at the bus stop. We keep running, having to pull our wings back as we dash into the woods behind a house. When we no longer hear the voices of the kids, we stop.

Onyx leans against a tree, her face red from getting whiplash. When she finally gets her breath, she spits out, “Why do they always hate us? Why can they never accept the fact we are human beings that live in this world too? Why can’t they just frickin accept us? I hate people, I hate being here, I HATE EVERYTHING! I wish there were people like us so they would understand.” She yells before turning to sob.

“I know. I know,” I sigh.

“Could we go by the river?” she asks changing the subject. “I heard it is peaceful there. And” she says wiping tears “ I could draw.”

“Yeah, okay; that sounds fine,” I agree. I reach into my backpack and pull out some water. I hand Onyx a bottle, which she accepts, downing it in almost one gulp.

“Follow me!” she yells, already ten feet ahead of me. She leads me through a colorful forest, with winding paths. How can she have this many mood swings? When we get there, I see a clear, rushing stream of water. I find a rock to sit on and just stare.

### Onyx’s POV:

The forest before me is breathtaking. Colorful leaves flutter down from the trees, and the birch trees stand tall beside the shimmering river, it's like something out of a dream. I reach into my bag for my pencils and begin to sketch. But as soon as I started, I suddenly forgot what I was doing. So I start packing everything up. “Onie why are we here?” Ambeer cuts through the fog. “I don’t remember, honestly.” “U, I have no idea honestly. Oh my gosh, we are supposed to be at school right now! Ambeer come on!” I rush forward to get my bag packed. When I looked up I swore I saw a house. “Ambeer come on!”