In the open­ing chap­ter of “If These Wings Could Fly,” the pro­tag­o­nist reflects on her tense home envi­ron­ment, marked by an atmos­phere of emo­tion­al tur­moil and fear. The chap­ter begins with her win­dow open to a humid night, with heavy clouds loom­ing, sym­bol­iz­ing a des­per­ate wait for rain, which rep­re­sents life and for­give­ness in the drought-strick­en town. The pro­tag­o­nist’s thoughts drift to the ten­sion in her house­hold, par­tic­u­lar­ly focused on her father’s fright­en­ing pres­ence.

As the pro­tag­o­nist sits with her two younger sis­ters, the noise of clas­sic rock music fills the house, grow­ing loud­er with each beat, high­light­ing the chaos with­in. Sud­den­ly, the mood shifts as a crash is heard down­stairs, trig­ger­ing pan­ic about their moth­er’s safe­ty. The father is depict­ed as a fig­ure of rage, the cause of which seems to stem from finan­cial stress over a mort­gage pay­ment and a high ener­gy bill. This stress leads to vio­lent out­bursts, and the pro­tag­o­nist is acute­ly aware of the fear and poten­tial dan­ger her moth­er faces.

The para­graph depicts chill­ing moments when the father con­fronts the moth­er, shov­ing her against fur­ni­ture in a fit of rage. Despite her attempts to reas­sure her sis­ters that every­thing is fine, the pro­tag­o­nist feels help­less and fear­ful of esca­lat­ing vio­lence. She decides to escape and seek help, aware that the tele­phone is cut, ren­der­ing her unable to call for help.

Climb­ing out the win­dow and onto the roof, she attempts to main­tain a facade of brav­ery for her sis­ters, encour­ag­ing them to join her in what she tries to frame as an adven­ture. Yet, her own fear is pal­pa­ble, espe­cial­ly as they cross a yard cov­ered in omi­nous crows that add to the sense of fore­bod­ing.

The pro­tag­o­nist’s jour­ney towards a neigh­bor’s house is fraught with anx­i­ety. When cau­tious hopes for assis­tance turn to despair upon dis­cov­er­ing no one is home, she returns only to be con­front­ed by her father. She lies to him in fear, say­ing she called the police, under­stand­ing the risks that come with the truth. As he storms out, leav­ing her momen­tar­i­ly safe, rain final­ly begins to pour, bring­ing a change that feels both cleans­ing and cathar­tic, as the dark­ness of her cur­rent sit­u­a­tion is tem­porar­i­ly alle­vi­at­ed by the promise of renew­al.