Max POV
You know that feeling when you wake up and you just have this deep sense of impending doom? Maybe it's something like a huge test that you didn't study for or a huge essay on some fancy book written by some dead dude that's due today and all you've gotten is a synopses of how lizards are probably gay. Yeah, that's what I woke up to.
I can't really remember what I had been dreaming of before I woke up–likely something about gay lizards–but I do remember waking up. It was sudden and relatively unexpected and unwelcome. At the jolt of sudden conciseness, I sat up in bed, the bad feeling immediately settled in my gut, making me lurch as if I were about to barf.
I took a moment to recompose myself, taking deep breaths as I shifted around in my bed. Yes, that's correct, bed. Thanks to a few little pickpocketing schemes performed by yours truly we were able to pool together enough money to buy a quaint little adobe in the backcountry of Colorado. You could even say that it was something like a homecoming for us.
I glanced around my room, taking it all in. We had been living in this house for a few months now and I still wasn't able to get over the fact that we were living in a house. We weren't camping in the middle of the desert and feasting on rats, nor were we squatting in some summer cabin for a day or two and bumming out on their spare supply of flat soda and Kraft Dinner that was two years past its expiration date. Nope, once again we were living in a house and we each had our own rooms. Plus there was a grocery store naught but a ten minute fly away.
My bed–even with this feeling of oh-my-god-shit-is-about-to-get-real I still got giddy calling it that–was pushed up into one of the corners. To my immediate left was a large window that displayed the high peaks of whatever mountain range this was. The Alps? No, no, those were in Australia, right? Eh, whatever. The window showed off some pretty mountains.
Next to the bed stood a sleek black bedside table. On it I had an ever so offending alarm clock–never used but a nice aesthetic–, a lamp, and a book. Yes, it may surprise you to know, but the bad-ass Maximum 'Not Going To Take Your Shit' Ride actually read. Not that it was actually anything educational. In fact, it was a book about dystopian steampunk ninjas who fought robots built on a far away planet. I have been told multiple times by my fellow flock members that I perhaps need to reevaluate my choice in literature. Do I listen? No. I will forever read about dystopian steampunk ninjas and the lesbian love triangle between the main character, her childhood best friend, and the Finnish sniper. I don't care what anyone says.
Getting off track, Max. Shaking my head I continued to scan my room. At the foot of my bed stood a desk accompanied by an almost empty bookshelf. The wall across from me was barren other than a large poster in some foreign language that Nudge hung in my room for its 'aesthetic'. Why she didn't simply hang it in her own room was beyond me. The wall also had a small closet that was all but empty. Most of my clothes, which were quite limited, were spread randomly throughout the house.
To my right was the door into the private bathroom that each bedroom fortunately had. Hey, the money we had wasn't ours, we decided to go crazy with it. Otherwise my room was pretty empty. Other than mine, Iggy's and Fang's, all of the others' rooms looked very lived in. The three of us were the oldest and I suspect that we all sort of expected to be making a quick dash out of Colorado at any time. The three younger kids were more than happy to settle down. I suppose they sort of expected this place to be permanent. I can't say that I wouldn't be happy if it was.
Groaning, I shook my head to get myself back on track. Impending doom. Gut feeling. Growling stomach.
With a sigh, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, staring at them dangling about an inch above the ground without really seeing them. I slowly slid my foot down to meet the ground and stood up, swaying slightly. My legs shook under me, as if they were about to give out. With a slight frown on my face I hesitantly took a step and just about launched myself headfirst into the floorboards. I gasped as I kneeled on the ground, my brow covered in a cold sweat that was not supposed to be there. How could one step have tired me out so much?
I swallowed thickly and slowly began to rise back onto my feet, a hand on the wall steadying me. My legs were shaking as if I had just ran ten miles and I was drenched in enough sweat that I was almost convinced that I was a sleep marathoner. Taking a shaky breath, I began to make my way over to the bathroom, not bothering to dig through the closet along the way. I probably had some sort of clothes strewn about in there anyways.
The process of walking only about five feet was unnecessarily long and tiring. By the time I had made it to the door of the bathroom I felt as if I was going to hurl. Stumbling into the quaint little potty house, I all but slammed the door behind me, locking it along with the one leading out to the hallway.
I slung around to face the tub, turning the water on and splashing myself with a handful. Alright, Maxie. You're the man, let's get ready to face this day like a boss!
As I turned back around to face the mirror, I expected myself to look like shit, dark bags under my eyes, hair torn and ratted, eyes bloodshot and face blotchy, the whole nine yards. Quite on the contrary, I actually looked sort of okay. Granted, my face was covered in sweat and my hair had a giant tangle that I'd probably have to cut out if I didn't want to end up ripping a portion of my skull off.
Tying my hair up into a messy bun, I began to undress as best as I could. It was a slow process given the fact that I felt as if I were about to fall over at any moment. I turned around, relaxing my wings and turning to look at them in the mirror. I couldn't help but admire them, no matter how narcissistic that may sound. Giving it a good look, the golden brown color really suited my tan skin–just as Nudge had mentioned a bit ago on a flight–and the black tattoo on the back of…my…neck…
Wait, I'm sorry, what? My eyes widened, any hints of fatigue seemingly dissipating as I stared at my neck in the mirror as best as I could, my eyes bulging out of my skull. I could only see a small bit: an 11 that stared dauntingly back at me. No. No. No, no, no, no, no!
With a gasp I turned quickly around to face the counter, grasping at it tightly as I stared at my reflection. I was going to die? No, no I couldn't. I was Max the Invincible, Max the Leader. I wasn't supposed to have an expiration date! That was not how I was supposed to go out!
I suddenly remembered the little hand mirror in my cabinet, the one that Nudge and Angel had gotten me earlier this year, claiming that I 'really needed it' so as to 'make sure you look totally hot when you go out because sometimes your hair gets, like, so ratty when we're out on the town and blah blah blah and yadda yadda yadda.' Fumbling, I opened drawer after drawer, digging through each one until finally finding the little pink hand mirror, opening it up and turning back around so my back faced the larger mirror, adjusting the smaller one until I could see the small numbers on the back of my neck.
"Seven…eighteen…eleven." I whispered to myself, letting the numbers sink into my brain. Four days. I had four days left to live. Four days until I expired. Four days until I would never see the flock, my family, again. I tried to choke back a sob at the last thought but that only served in making it louder. "No, no, no, no, NO!" I sobbed, walking backwards away from the mirror, tripping on the bathmat and sending myself crashing into the slowly filling tub of water. Smooth as butter.
As I attempted to reorientate myself, I heard the sound of footsteps making their way down the hall followed by a knocking on my bathroom door.
"Max?" Came Fang's worried voice, "Are you alright."
"Yeah, yeah." I answered, trying–and failing–to keep my voice from shaking. "Yeah, Fang, I'm fine. I'm alright."
"Alright…" Fang responded uncertainly, "Just…yeah."
I kept silent, trying to even out my breathing until I heard Fang walk away. As soon as I could no longer hear his footsteps I immediately sprung up from my spot on the bottom of the tub and went back to looking at myself in the mirror. Did I look like I was dying? Now that I started to really look, was it just me or was I growing mold? Shit, were my roots turning grey? Was that blood on my teeth?
No, no, no. I shook my head, pushing those thoughts away. I just had to…act normal. Yeah. Forget taking a bath. I'd just have to act normal.
Letting my hair down, I threw on a purple sweatshirt that was draped on the toilet and a pair of shorts that were unnecessarily short in my opinion. I halfheartedly ran a brush through my hair, ripping the tangle of hair out instead of cutting it. A quick face scrubbing, a brush of the teeth and I was done.
Shoving my hands in the pockets of the sweatshirt, I stalked out of the bathroom, slipping a pair of shoes onto my feet, my eyes downcast. Great job, Max, you sure are acting normal. Despite my pep talk, if you could even call it that, I continued my gloomy way down the hall and into the kitchen that bled into the living room. The rest of the flock were all gathered in the living room, exchanging whispers before quickly silencing themselves as soon as I walked in.
I grunted at them as a 'good morning' and made my way over to the fridge, rummaging through it and pulling out the jug of orange juice. Why orange juice? I don't even like orange juice? Was it because it was a good source of Vitamin C? Maybe because it was orange? There was a high possibility that I was only doing this because of the fact that I was dying. Yes, this would be my big dying adventure. Drinking orange juice instead of…whatever the hell I drank in the morning.
"…ax…Max…Maximum Ride!" Angel's voice cut me out of whatever trance I was in over the entrancing orange juice.
"Hmm?" I acknowledged her, turning away from the orange juice.
"Dude, you were staring at that O.J. for like, five minutes." Gazzy said, his voice more suspicious than joking. My dying mind didn't acknowledge this, however.
"Yeah, yeah. Orange juice. Good shit." I responded spacely.
"Max, you don't even, like, like orange juice." Nudge pointed out.
"Trying new things." I said back as I turned away from them and closed the refrigerator before slowly stumbling over to sit down in a tall bar stool.
The five other members of the flock exchanged pointed look with each other, not that I noticed. In all honesty I felt as if I were high, staring at the container of orange juice in my hands like it held the secret to life. Oh, great orange juice gods, tell me your divine secrets! You who are so orangey and so juicy and such a good source of Vitamin C, tell me your secret, indulge with me your wisdom!
"…Are you gonna drink that?" Gazzy asked me, a strange look on his face.
"What?" I glanced at the orange juice in my hands. Drink this? I could never, I had just befriended it and the orange juice gods. I could not betray their trust like that! "Erm, no, no, I think I'm alright." I stood up and walked back to the fridge, setting the orange juice on the shelf.
Angel cleared her throat awkwardly as I turned back around to face the flock. "Anyways, Max," She began, putting unnecessary emphasis on my name, as if she wasn't entirely convinced it was mine, "the flock and I were talking and we, well, we decided a few things."
"Hmm?" I questioned, not listening all too closely at what she was saying. My vision was constantly going in and out of focus, making it nauseating to look at anything other than the ceiling light. What had happened to all that energy just minute ago?
"Well, the flock and I all unanimously agreed that…well, I don't know how to put this lightly, Max." Angel looked at the others as if pleading for help. They all glanced away from her awkwardly. Fang's eyes were glued on me, a suspicious look on his face.
"Max, we want you out." Fang's deep voice rung in the–greatly acoustic, now that I think about it–kitchen.
"Hmm, yeah okay." I said noncommittally before what he had just said hit me. I whipped my head from the ceiling quickly around to face the five of them causing my vision to deteriorate greatly. "What?"
"You heard me, Max." Fang said in a steady voice, as if this was something he said everyday. "The rest of the flock decided that it would be best if you were gone."
"I'm sorry, have you all gone insane?" I all but yelled, slightly hysterical. "You can't just kick me out, this isn't some second rate sports team. We're a family!"
Nudge let out a shaky sigh, as if she were trying to hold back tears and appear nonchalant about the situation. "Some family! You don't even let us do anything! You think that just because the school is out to get you that you have to drag us down with you! Family doesn't hold family back, Max."
"Yeah!" Gazzy chimed in, sniffling as he did so as small tears trailed down his face. "I just- you're too protective, Max. We can't just stay cooped up in this house forever. We want to try to be normal."
"Gazzy, you know perfectly well that we are not normal." I say, trying to sound joking despite the tears blurring my vision.
He glared at me. "I know that! You never let us forget it! But just for once, I want to try, alright?"
Angel quickly stepped up as Iggy pulled Gazzy into his side. "The thing is, we don't even know if you are Max." My eyes widened at this. "You've been acting weird for the past couple of days, as if you aren't really here, and today r-really tied it all in. You're not Max, are you?"
"You can't honestly believe that?" I glanced at each of their faces, Angel's stiff and assertive, Nudge's lower lip quivering as she looked anywhere but at me, Gazzy buried in Iggy's side, his back heaving with sobs, Iggy's was empty, his usual smile replaced with a small frown. And Fang. Fang looked angry, his equivalent of a sneer plastered on his face.
I let out a breathy laugh. "I can't believe it. After all I've done for you. After all we've been through." I took a step back and glanced at the sliding door behind me. It led to a nice little balcony. I actually quite enjoyed that balcony. "Well, fine then. Who am I to argue."
I walked over to the sliding glass door and pulled it open, Nudge, Angel, and Fang following behind me as if afraid I was going to jump them.
"By the way," I said, turning back to face the group of them. I took a deep shaky breath, trying to ignore the tears–and snot–pouring down my face and getting into my mouth and my sweatshirt. "I've got a little 'good-bye' present for you all." I was just one bitter Max today, now wasn't I.
With that, I whipped the sweatshirt off–I would probably feel proud of myself for not getting caught in it, but the situation at hand didn't really call for any pride–and brushed my hair up, exposing the back of my neck. I heard small gasps from Nudge and Angel and another muffled sob from Gazzy. I didn't know what Fang's reaction was and I didn't bother to turn around and check.
"W-what is it?" Iggy asked quietly. I spread my wings out and let my arms spread out at my sides as I stepped outside.
"Expiration date, Ig." I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Maximum 'Never Gonna Die' Ride is dying due to natural causes." I took another step out onto the balcony and pulled myself up onto the small wall that separated the balcony from the bottom of a cliff deep below me. Damn, the view really was beautiful.
"I guess there's only one thing left to say." I all but whispered, knowing that they caught every word. I turned back around to face them, a large, shaky smile on my lips as tears continued to drip down my face. "Thank you."
With that I launched myself off of the balcony, ignoring the strangled cries of 'Max!' that echoed behind me as I caught an updraft and soared across the sky, quickly speeding up to speeds equivalent to a plane and leaving them behind.
Leaving my family behind.
It took all of my willpower not to crash down to the ground and simply break.