Did you know that if you fall off a cliff, the people around you might freak out?
How do I know? Great question!
You see, I fell from the Grand Canyon two years, three months, twenty-four days, and seventeen hours ago. And thirty-two minutes ago.
How am I still alive?
Honestly, I have no clue.
One moment I’m falling to my death, the next, I’m flying.
You heard me correctly. I flew.
Not like a bird or a bat or an insect who needs wings.
I flew because I thought it, and I did it.
Wanna know somethin’ else weird?
No one in my family can do what I can do.
I just… did.
My hair whipping through my face, the sound of the wind whistling—well, more like screaming—in my ears, the feeling of the fresh air through my nose and into my lungs, the feeling of being free… it was all there. (I would say that it was exhilarating to open my mouth and give a whoop of joy, except the moment I opened my mouth, I closed it so that I didn’t swallow the millions of almost-microscopic little gnats and flies.)
Make that two years, three months, twenty-four days, seventeen hours, and thirty-three minutes ago.
Anyways, what happened after?
Another great question!
My parents freaked out. My sisters freaked out.
I freaked out.
As soon as I realized what I was doing, I fell SPLAT like a fly on a wind shielded car going eighty on the interstate.
Okay, maybe not SPLAT like that, but something like that. I thought I was going to die from the impact.
I didn’t even get a bruise or a scrape. Nothing happened to me.
Make that two years, three months, twenty-four days, seventeen—what? You get it? Okay sorry… *sigh* Ever since I was late to my first day of high school and had to do detention after school for a week, I haven’t been late to anything.
But enough about high school; this story isn’t about high school. This is my story.
My name is Cadeera (Pronounced Kuh-dee-ruh). Cadeera Hernandez. My friends call me Deera. My parents call me Cadeera. And what do I call myself? Easy. I call myself Weird.
Wanna know why my name is Cadeera?
No? Good, because I won’t tell you. *smirk*
It’s nothing special. It’s just who I am.
Wait, you wanna know why my name is Cadeera?! Seriously?!
Wow, you guys… Okay, my name is Cadeera because my parents actually had a dream about what would happen to me and thus named me after the Italian word for “to fall” as in the action, but then realized that they named me after the season instead of the verb. They just rolled with it.
Don’t look at me like that! I took Italian for three years in high school!
Flying makes sense to me, unlike math or science. It's not fancy schamncy equations or chemistry formulas. I start to float and then I fly, simple as that! I use my mind to direct my movement, so it's not like a car where you physically turn.
My name is Cadeera. I can fly. And it's absolutely amazing.
About the author
Writing has always been a passion of mine. I've been writing since I was around 7 or 8 years old, where I would write down silly little stories on long car rides or help my dad brainstorm ideas for his soon-to-be book.