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I'm trying to write a story and I've got a general idea working but my muse likes to come and go. So I need help. Can someone help me with plot ideas for this story? I have the title and a first paragraph down already. It's written in first person, and is going to be in a journal-type format. Use your imagination for everything else. It's going to be a supernatural/fantasy type story


Title: If Wings Could Take You


Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have wings? To fly? I'm sure that everyone has at some point in their lives. To soar through the skies and look down upon everything, to feel the wind blowing past you, to feel alive and free. I did too. I saw birds high up in the skies and wished I could be up there with them too. When I was a little girl, I'd always dream about flying. When I woke up I'd up on the other side of the house on top of the counters in the kitchen or the dining room table. Momma said it was because since I dreamt about flying I would magically grow wings that carried me across the house. Being a child, I believed her. Every night I'd want to go to sleep just so I could dream about flying and grow wings again. I hoped to be able to wake up with my wings still there. I'd run to the bathroom to check in the mirror every morning just to make sure. As I got older, I stopper believing these stories but I never stopped wishing to fly. But it there's one thing I learned, was that everything comes at a price and whenever you gain something you must also give something back...

Thank you for the ideas ^^ very interesting thought

Yes I like it. It has that feeling of selling your sole to the devil to live forever, but with a twist. You can make this an exciting story or drag it out in a boreing line. I hope you go with the first one.
And I agree with mexicantacos2003 you could add some romants and action to this to have it a total hit.

I have the first chapter finished if anyone wants to read it:

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have wings? To fly? I'm sure that everyone has at some point in their lives. To soar through the skies and look down upon everything, to feel the wind blowing past you, to feel alive and free. I did too. I saw birds high up in the skies and wished I could be up there with them too. When I was a little girl, I'd always dream about flying. When I woke up I'd up on the other side of the house on top of the counters in the kitchen or the dining room table. Momma said it was because since I dreamt about flying I would magically grow wings that carried me across the house. Being a child, I believed her. Every night I'd want to go to sleep just so I could dream about flying and grow wings again. I hoped to be able to wake up with my wings still there. I'd run to the bathroom to check in the mirror every morning just to make sure. I never stopped wishing to fly. But it there's one thing I learned, was that everything comes at a price and whenever you gain something you must also give something back...

It was 11 years ago. I didn’t understand at first. I was so naïve. It was painful and hot. It felt like someone had taken a white, hot knife and cut large incisions along my back. When the pain had disappeared I looked at the reflection in the mirror. It wasn’t me. The girl I saw had hair of the purest white and eyes that were endless pools of black. A mass of feathers sprouting out the back. I did the only thing I could comprehend. I screamed. I backed into the wall and slid down until I hit the floor. Momma rushed in and collected me in her arms. She held me so tight that it became difficult to breathe but I didn’t care. She began to cry. I didn’t understand why, but I started crying too. I cried until I fell asleep in her arms. That night I didn't dream of flying. I didn’t dream of soaring above the clouds, or the wind blowing past me. I didn’t dream of being swallowed up by the endless blue sky or being among the birds who I had envied so. That night, I dreamt of nothing. What I didn’t know was that that was only the beginning.

Momma always told me that I was special. That I was different. I always thought that she had to say that because she was a mother. It wasn’t until I got those wings that I believed her. Momma wouldn’t let me go outside or see anybody. If my friends had come knocking on my door she’d tell them I was sick and shoo them away so that they wouldn’t see me. I always thought that wings gave you freedom but for me they only gave me solitude. Momma said it’d be alright and that she’d show me how to control my wings and I wouldn’t have to hide in my room anymore. I was excited and impatient. She began to teach me and I tried and tried and little by little I was able to hide my wings.

Now before, I said that everything comes with a price and that whenever you gain something you must give something back. Sometimes I wonder if the price I had to give was worth what I gained. One night I was awoken with a start. Momma had shaken me awake and rushed me into her room she pushed me into a closet and told me to stay quiet. She locked the closet and rushed out of her room. I sat there in the dark. I was quiet like momma told me to be. I sat there for what felt like hours until I heard the door slam open. I jumped up and was about to ask momma what happened when I heard a gruff voice that belonged to an older man.

“There’s no one- “ He stopped mid sentence and turned sharply to the closet where I was. A small jewelry box had fallen off a shelf and hit the floor. The man began to walk to the closet and struggled with the lock. I was scared so I quickly hid behind a rack of clothes hoping he wouldn’t find me. The closet door was shoved open roughly. I sat quietly behind the clothes. I dared not move, I didn’t even try to look at him in fear that I would be caught.

“Let’s go! We can’t afford to be found here!” Another voice from down the hall had yelled. This man was younger and seemed to be the one in command. The man in the closet huffed and left slamming the door closed behind him. I waited for several minutes before climbing out from behind the clothes and out into Momma’s bedroom. I opened her door and trodded downstairs calling for her. There was no reply so I ran around the house, searching for her. I found her in the living room. She was lying on the floor, her back facing me. She had wings too but hers were no longer there. The floor was a dark crimson and she wasn't moving. I didn’t understand. I ran to her, calling out to her. She didn’t move. I started to scream “Momma! Momma!” but she didn’t move. Hot tears rolled down my face. It was then I smelled the smoke. I began to feel the heat of the flames as they overcame the house. But, I didn’t care. I continued to call out for momma, hoping that she was just sleeping and would wake up but she didn’t. By now the flames had engulfed the entire house. Everything was getting hazy from the amount of smoke I inhaled and I couldn't move because the flames had surrounded me. I was about to pass out when I saw a black silhouette through the blur of red and orange. At first I thought it was the men coming back. I screamed at him, telling them to get back and to stay away, but the man continued towards me. He kneeled down in front of me and I could see that he was too young to be the men that were there before. He appeared to be only 16 or 17 years old. It was too smoky to make out any details but I remember his voice calling out to me. He held out his hand to me and told me that everything would be okay. Being the naïve child I was, I believed him. I took his and tried to stand but I couldn’t stay awake any longer and I passed out into his arms.