Wings by Ashna Kumar {Inklings Book Contest 2024 Finalist}

Today, we are featuring Inklings Book Contest 2024 Finalist Ashna Kumar! She finished 6th grade this past school year and wrote a metaphorical story called “Wings”. One of our judges loved “how the writer really built and planned the metaphors from the beginning” and “the imagery, lyrical writing and more to build the metaphor that shaped the whole story.” Continue below to enjoy Ashna’s work in digital book or plain text form.

It was an incurable disease. We knew it was inevitable. But somehow, when we got the phone call, all perched anxiously at the edge of the couch, I couldn’t believe it was real. It was as if reality itself refused to acknowledge the harsh truth. I held my mom’s cold hands in the plain white hospital room, sobbing into the bed sheets. I hugged her lifeless frame, refusing to let go until I was dragged away.

I shake my head, trying to clear the memory. I stare out the window at the serene landscape in front of me. The last leaf drifts down, falling into a pile of its comrades. My room is quiet, almost still, filled only with the sound of my breathing and the distant murmur of the outside world. 

My gaze settles on the small bird perched precariously on a branch just outside my window. It seems to lean forward as its shiny black eyes survey the leaves on the ground. It turns its head sharply at the sky, pausing, before jumping down into the leaves. 

I frown, squinting.

“You coming? The game starts at 5:00.” Elyse’s voice breaks the silence as she leans on the doorframe of my bedroom, twirling her car keys around her finger.

I pry my eyes off the window, turning to face her. “Mmm.” 

My fingers wrap around my gym bag handle before standing up and as I tuck it under my arm, I can feel the basketball inside. I take a step towards the door, catching a glimpse of the flowers in the other room through the open door before my sister steps forward. The door to that room was usually kept shut, but today, it had a mind of its own and creaked open. Since Mom left us, we haven’t been in touch with any relatives or family friends. Slowly, they stopped bothering us, and now, we live in a world of our own.

I look away, tightening my grip on the bag as I shuffle forward. 

Elyse frowns at me but doesn’t say anything.

Those flowers. I gave them to Mom about three months ago. 

“Wow, those flowers really are beautiful.”

I turned to Mom, shuffling closer to her bed. “Huh? These? Oh, after the game, I went to the store and saw these, so I decided to get them for you.” I fiddled with one of the leaves, placing the bouquet in the vase next to her. I sat down on her bed and smoothed out the bedsheets, turning to face her. 

“Oh, yes, the game. How was it?”

“Good, I guess.”

Mom raised her eyebrows expectantly. 

“Eh, I didn’t get passed to that much and the person I was guarding barely did anything,” I sighed, picking up the basketball and spinning it on my finger.

“Oh, don’t worry. You just haven’t got your wings yet.”

I stared at her as if she herself had sprouted wings and morphed into a dragon. “Mom, I’m not a bird. I don’t have wings.”

Mom laughed softly. “Not literally, silly. It’s a sort of joke.”

“I don’t like jokes,” I said stubbornly.

I couldn’t help but smile as Mom sighed. 

“Okay, think of your wings like this,” Mom explained. “They’re your sort of weapon that makes you different from every other player on the court. They’re the things that make people want to watch you play, the things that coaches look for when they’re drafting people. All of the best basketball players have wings, but many don’t think of them as wings, though.” 

I nodded slowly. “Okay…” I paused. “So how exactly do I get these ‘wings’?”

“Well, that’s for you to find out!”

My face twisted with annoyance as I huffed. “Come on! What about Elyse? Does she have these ‘wings’? I bet she doesn’t either.”

The corners of Mom’s lips turned up and a small smile played on her lips. “Elyse has already found her wings. You should watch her play sometime.”

I rolled my eyes. 

“Here, what about this,” Mom chimed in. “If you find your wings, I’ll buy you an ice cream sundae.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

I paused. “How do I know if I found my wings?”

I could almost hear the smile in her voice. “Oh, you’ll know.”

I blink, the world coming back as I stumble out of my room. My gaze lingers on the vase, and I can’t help but bite my tongue.

All the petals on the flower fell off.

* * *

Sweat trails down my back as the sound of squeaking shoes echoes on the polished wood floor. The ball spins around the rim before falling out. My feet fly off the ground and I snatch the ball out of the air.

The air rushes through my ponytail as my feet carry me to the other side of the court. I can see it. The ball as it soars into the rim. It will hit the backboard and fall into the hoop with the satisfying swish that I love the sound of. It is right in front of me. If I can just—

“Ball!” Kate shouts.

I hesitate. My hands change positions, the ball turning to Kate. She catches it and the ball soars to the hoop. We all hold our breath. The tension in the gym is almost suffocating. We’re leaning precariously on an edge between win and loss. 

The ball hits the rim, the hollow ring burning in my mind even as the buzzer signals the end of the game. I take a step back and my legs give in to the exhaustion. I stare at the ball bouncing in front of me, still unable to comprehend what had happened.

That was an easy shot! She was three feet from the basket! my mind screams, drowning out the now muffled screams from my muscles. I shakily stand up, walking over to our team.

I can’t hear the rest of the conversation. I nod occasionally but don’t say anything. That was the most important game of the tournament. No way we can win now. The next team we are playing is twice as good as us. 

I don’t know what I’m doing as I sit on the bleachers, gazing at the other teams. Oh, look, Elyse is playing. I can barely hear my thoughts. I’m still numb from the loss. 

Why, why, why?! I squeeze my eyes shut as if shutting out the present could transport me back to the past. Why didn’t I shoot it?

Amid my lingering regret, my attention shifts abruptly to the basketball court. My eyes fixate on Elyse, her skilled dribbling echoing through the court. The anticipation grows as the fans start the countdown.

“7!”

Elyse nears the half-court line, not slowing.

“6!”

She’s close to the three-point line.

“5!”

She’s at the line now.

“4!”

One of her teammates calls for the ball.

“3!”

She turns to the basket, smirking.

“2!”

The ball is out of her hands, soaring to the basket.

“1!”

The ball falls into the hoop.

Swish. 

My eyes widen as the crowd goes wild. Just now, as Elyse was shooting, I could see wings on Elyse’s back. 

I let out a soft laugh. Mom, looks like I believe it now.

“Elyse has already found her wings.”

* * *

I stare out the window, golden-brown leaves piling up outside. The bird is back again, its eyes fixed on the sky as it strolls through the leaves. My eyes follow its gaze, observing the other birds gathered overhead. They fly in different directions, creating a swirling, feathered dance in the sky. The bird remains on the ground, gazing up at the others. 

What if I hadn’t passed the ball? What if I kept going and shot the ball? Would we have won the game? I would carefully toss the ball against the backboard before it falls into the basket. The crowd would go wild as my teammates high-fived me. 

I sit up slowly, finally noticing the notebooks I pushed off my desk. I reach to pick them up and pause. I imagine the other team. Their hopes would be crushed too. They’d feel the same as me right now.

I sigh, burying my head in paper. Do I want to win? Yes. So I want the other team to lose? Ye–wait, no. I groan. It would have to be one or another. Have your team win and have another team feel terrible, or have the other team win and feel terrible yourself. I’d choose the former. 

I turn back to the bird as it stares up at the other birds. With a sudden resolve, it opens its wings, mirroring a moment in time when choices shape into destinies. The other birds vanish, leaving it standing alone, a silent decision made.

But now it’s already too late.

* * *

Why is no one trying? is the first thought that pops into my mind when we only have one minute left. I quickly correct myself. Why am I not trying?

I pause to catch my breath as Kate runs back to play defense. “Come on, guys! We still have a chance!”

Silence.

I can’t move; my body won’t let me. The ball flies into the air, performing its precarious dance as it spins around the rim before bouncing in a different direction. Kate races after it, but it’s already too late. It’s going to go out. This is the end. We’re not going to win.

Something clicks inside of me. A wave of realization crashes into my mind, and suddenly, I’m next to the ball, smacking it back into the court. Suddenly, I’m racing after it, and this time I don’t hesitate. Suddenly, I’m the only person on the court, no one else to pass to.

No one else to stop me.

The ball spins in my hands as I pick up speed. I step and catch the ball, taking one more step before I leap into the air. I feel the wind rushing around me as time seems to stop. I’m floating in the air, and, for a second, it feels as if I’m flying. 

The buzzer screeches and I fall back to the ground. The screaming crowds seem muffled and I close my eyes, seeing the bird lift off of the ground and take off into the sky. I turn to the bleachers, hoping, wishing, for the unattainable. All I want is for Mom to be here to see me. 

Mom, I finally did it. I found my wings.

And there she is, ice cream sundae in hand, smiling at me. I open my mouth, trying to call out to her, and then she’s gone, the confidence on her face still lingering behind.

I look up, catching a glimpse of her pearly white wings before she disappears into the sky.