A/N: Repo is my new obsession. And Mag is my favorite character.
Disclaimer: I don't own Repo. If I did, Mag and Nathan would not have died, and would have gotten together.
Enjoy! (And don't forget to review!)
She got the wings from Marni.
They were her fist real gift; after all no one cared much for the little blind girl that had been left on the doorstep of an orphanage seven years ago.
They were from a costume shop, made from some gauzy material with straps to hook onto her shoulder blades. She felt along the edges, drawing out the shape of them. She didn't know what they were until Marni explained them, bit by bit. When she heard the word "fly" her face lit up, and she understood.
She remembered flying from dreams. She remembered the weightlessness, the freedom.
She wished she could have seen colors, so she could imagine what the colors of the wings were.
If they were as magical as what she imagined.
She loved to run in them, loved to feel the soft squishy ground beneath her feet, the feel of the wind making the wings push slightly against the gravity, the sting of the air on her cheeks.
They were liberating, the wings. She could almost imagine that she was up in the air, where there was no one to see that she couldn't see, and there wasn't much to see at all. For what could there be in such a vast space of nothing but the breeze? Where she could sing without people telling her that they'd never let a blind girl be famous. Where she could let her spirit shake the sky.
She wanted to be free like that more than anything.
She kept the wings on for weeks, running as far as her breath would take her; whenever Marni was there to hold her hand to make sure she didn't fall. She would keep them under her pillow, so no one could take them. The other kids at the orphanage looked at her strangely, and snickered, but she couldn't see them. She could never see them.
She would take Marni with her to the sky, she thinks. So they could always be together.
After all, Marni had given her her wings. Even if she couldn't really fly, but imagining was usually good enough anyway.
After nearly a month of wearing them, one of the newer kids at the orphanage brought an archery set outside to play with. The arrows weren't particularly sharp, but they were sharp enough.
The little blind girl and her friend ran across the muddy grass, laughing all the while, with a pair of wings on their backs. They looked like fairies, maybe. Or birds. One could not see that the world wasn't magical, and one really didn't care.
It only took a few seconds to ruin it all.
The arrows were fired toward the little blind girl who could expect no kindness aside from her friend, as they tried to duck from the sharp points as they cut into their skin, their clothes, their wings. They weren't fixable, that much the friend knew. The blind girl tried to believe they were, but she could feel the large tears as she reached back to feel them.
"Sorry Blind Maggie, we didn't mean to hurt you Blind Maggie." They taunted, and the mantra would repeat over and over in the little girl's head that day, and forever more.
For days after the little girl tried to keep wearing the wings, tried to ignore the gaping holes, tried to ignore the lost feeling of freedom. She ran around a bit more trying to preserve the feeling again. But the magic of the wings were lost, and she realized that she could never reach the air, never be free. That the wings were just gauze attached to shaped wires.
The universe decided to crash down once more for little Blind Mag, and the wings were tossed in a closet, it all vanishing once more.