short story, story promptValerie has had an irritating itch in her ankles for the past week. It’s gotten to the point where it’s now unbearable, but suddenly, the itch stops. She’s unprepared for what happens next…


The itch started a week ago now. Since then, my ankles have itched almost incessantly. I can’t focus on anything. When my hands aren’t occupied, they are scratching my ankles, making the skin red and raw. It was becoming infuriating.

I tried to ignore it as I walked home from school.

“Valerie, what are you doing?” Chad asked, staring at me. “You’re walking strangely.”

“This itch is getting unbearable,” I snapped.

He held up his hands as if in surrender. “Alright, alright. I won’t ask.”

Sighing, I shook my head. “Sorry, Chad. I haven’t been able to sleep much the past few nights thanks to this ridiculous itch.”

“You really should go to the doctor,” he said. “You might have an allergy to something.”

“Surely an allergy would affect more than just my ankles,” I pointed out. “I doubt they’re so sensitive as to react to something when the rest of me is fine.”

He shrugged. “It was just a suggestion, I’m not a doctor. But you should definitely go to one.”

I was beginning to think he was right. Perhaps they could prescribe a soothing cream or something. “I’ll get my parents to organise an appointment,” I said, turning into the secluded park we always cut across to get home. “They might be – ouch!” I reflexively lifted my right foot off the ground as pain lanced through it.

Chad held my arm to steady me. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. Pain just shot through my foot.” I gingerly put my weight back onto my foot. “On the bright side, the itch is gone!” My grin disappeared as more pain throbbed through my ankle. I almost collapsed as the pain was mirrored on my other ankle.

“Val? What is it?” Chad’s voice was full of concern. “Do you want me to get help?”

I dropped to the ground, cradling my legs and trying to massage my ankles. “No, I think I’ll be okay – ow! It feels like a painful cramp, that’s all.” I winced as the pain intensified.

“What can I do?” he asked, kneeling beside me.

I shook my head. “Just give me a minute.”

I tried not to cry out as the pain got worse. The itch returned, worse than ever. The raw skin around my ankles throbbed. I bit back a yelp as something burst through the thin skin at my ankles.

Chad gasped.

I stared.

Pain slowly abating, I reached a trembling hand to the white, feathery wings that had just sprouted from my ankles. Impossible. I was seeing things, right?

Chad’s face had gone white as a sheet. Nothing ever seemed to faze him, so obviously I wasn’t imagining things. He was seeing what I was seeing.

“You’ve got … those are … wings,” he stuttered. “How…?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “Help me up.”

He tugged on my hands and helped me to my feet. It felt strange, heavier than what I was used to, but only slightly. Without me consciously doing anything, the wings picked themselves off the ground and folded against my leg, reaching halfway to my knee.

We looked at each other with wide eyes.

“What do I do now?”

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