Young Writers Society

Chapter 1

I carried the burden of a thousand black horses, pounding over the night in a furious rage. Their eyes were red like fire and their manes were gray like smoke. Nothing could stop their madness, nothing could stop mine. My life had shattered into countless pieces years ago, and it couldn’t be put back together. My family was gone; I had no friends to speak of. The soul that had once floated inside of me, had escaped my body. The worst part was what I had become, a freak of nature, nothing but an empty cage that held my fear, my sorrow, my regrets, and my future. Inside they festered like wounds and grew worse. My future, that was the one thought I couldn’t erase from my mind. I was stuck in heaven, my heart still breathed, my lungs still expanded. I was stuck here for eternity. I wasn’t dead, never would even come close to it. I was indestructible, invincible. I would stay alive forever, without end. That frightened me. I had thought that I had hated living, but living with out being truly alive was too much for my brain to even wrap itself around.

I was angel, the curse that was inescapable. The ones before me had tried to kill each other and themselves, because of broken hearts or revenge. There no way to do it, to kill an Angel was impossible, and if someone did it would be quite a feat. I had wings that sprouted from my back like living things. I despised them, the feathery black attachments. I hated them along with all the other pearly white perfect Angels. I had made a statement by dyeing my pure white wings black in a vat of black hair dye. Nobody bothered me and my darkness up here in the old part of town. No Angels ever hung out here. Ever since I had labeled myself as an outlaw I had lived out here, among the gray stone buildings.

The church bricks I sat on had fallen in the walls were failing. The circle at the top was the perfect place to sit. The sides of it were smooth with an intentional break at the top. Rain had stained its once white limestone. I sat leaning against one side and my legs hanging over the front side of the church. I could see the whole city from here. All the happy little angels fluttering over the sparkling lights of the city. I rolled my eyes at them. The dusk time that, which was happening at that moment, exhilarated them, but only isolated my lonely state. I could feel the night closing in. Blocking of any hope. My eyes began to start adjusting to the setting sun.

“You don’t look like any normal Angel I have ever seen.” It was true I wore black cord miniskirt. Purple socks covered my calves and stopped just above my knees. A black tube top covered my torso. Black streaks ran down my face, and resembled bags under my eyes. None of the Angles in the city dressed gothic like. The Angel was right…Angel. What was an Angel doing out here. I swiveled around my hands tensed into fists, my muscled clenched tightly.

“What are you doing here? You have no right to be here.” I curled my lip through my words.

“I think the more appropriate question is what you are doing here. I have as much right as anyone to be here. I’m not going to hurt you. Just trust me. I have seen you sitting up here the past couple of times I have taken a run. I wanted to say hello. You looked kind of...”

“You can’t hurt me anymore. I’ve been hurt badly enough.” The Angel was about my age. In the dim light I could see his eyes like suede, and his messy hair. Nothing was else was definable other than his wings silhouetted. “I live here. Please go away.”

“Why would you live here? It’s so gray and old. It’s very depressing.” He tilted his head sideways in question.

“I like that, it matches my mood. I don’t want all the bright party lights. It’s not me.” I scrunched my nose.

It’s kind of cold up here. Why don’t you come to my place for the night? I have a nice place, an extra bedroom. It’s cozy. I think you’ll like it.” He smiled gently, his lips forming into a soft curve. It was inviting, and sweet. A boyfriend would have used it to lure a girl into kissing him.

“I sleep in the pews in the church. It’s plenty warm. I think I’ll stay here.” The idea was inviting, but I didn’t want to get myself into anything. My life was fine they way it was. It didn’t need to change.

“OK, come on. One night’s good sleep won’t kill you. I have spaghetti cooking on the stove at home. I put mushrooms in it. Most people think that it is to die for.” I was heavily thinking about giving into this guy. He was so convincing. Why was he doing this though? I wasn’t the best one to take into your home. Street Angels, the only street Angel was dangerous. This guy seemed so nice, and genuine. I sighed and shook my head reluctantly. I couldn’t trust anyone after…after I had been changed. “Please, I need some company too. Nothing bad could happen. I don’t know why you’re afraid.”

“I’m not afraid.” I bit back. “…I just I said those exact words years ago and, now I…am…afraid of what will happen if I trust another person.”

“I promised that I wouldn’t hurt you. You can be sure that I won’t make you feel like you can’t trust another person again.” His words sounded real, like he meant it and was going to prove it. Pausing to think about the offer, I looked out across the city. The lights scared me. They were unknown territories. My dark retreat was something I knew. Something I understood because it was inside of me. When something lived inside something, that thing begins to understand it. The only reason, I came to notice, that I was rejecting his kindness was my fear. I was afraid of the world around my bubble. I still hated everything that I had though about earlier. I always would. I would never be a true Angel. I couldn’t live like that. Nothing could convince me to. I looked up at the Angel who stood in front of me.

“Fine, you convinced me. Let me grab some things from the church. It’s just all my stuff. Not that much.”

“You won’t need anything like food or blankets. I can give you some at my house.” I gave him the steeliest glare I could muster. He raised his hands in mock surrender. “We can stop if you really need to.” I really needed to. It was very important. I slowly slid to the flat roof of the church. I cautiously walked toward the Angel. He outstretched his hand for me to take. I ignored it. I wanted no friendship. I continued to the door in the roof. It was more or less like a trap door. I pulled on the handle, releasing the lock and opening the door. I set my foot onto the first narrow step. “Aren’t you going to fly?” he asked a puzzled mask covered his face. I shrugged and took another step down. I waited for him to follow. The small steps were cold though my sock. I traveled down the stairs, one at a time. I counted twenty steps and jumped the landing. “Careful,”

“Why are you whispering?” He questioned in a whisper as well.

“You always do that in a church, you know respect.” I continued walking along the landing. It went all the way to the front of the church and then down another set of steps. I felt my way up the isle of pews. I had done this so many times in the dark that I had no reason to feel my way along. I did anyway. At the end of the row of pews I hung a right and grabbed my backpack off the pew. This pew was for some reason, the widest. I grabbed the sleeping bag as well and turned around right into the boy. I drew back in surprised. “Watch it,” I criticized and brushed past him. I waited for a second. There was light going strait down the hall. I turned back; the moon that had risen low on the horizon illuminated a stained glass window. A woman with a hallo above her head held a beautiful baby in a pink blanket. A man stood over her with a huge smile on his face. He too had a hallo. Who were those people? I liked to believe that they were my parents. That my parents were Angels, not the same kind as me, but the kind most humans believed in. Guardian Angels. I now continued down the isle to the huge oak doors. I could feel the ornate carvings under my fingers. I pushed with all of my weight. The door creaked open letting in the crisp night air. I felt the door get lighter. The boy was pushing along side me. The space in between the doors was now big enough for us to get though. I slipped though quickly and held the door open while he slipped through. The door slammed shut echoing of the walls of the other buildings.

The narrow street was claustrophobic. Shadows extended their fingers as though they were reaching out to get us. The boy opened his wings, and beat them, lifting himself up into the air. I extended mine as he hovered above me. I moved them up and down. I could feel myself leaving the ground. My light body felt weightless being held up by my wings. I moved higher and higher, reaching closer to the top of the buildings. The boy looked down, patiently waiting for me. I hadn’t used my wings in the longest time. They felt old and stiff from lack of use, but they were so powerful though. Weakness wouldn’t significantly slow me down. My black wings beat faster and faster lifting me up above the buildings. I leveled out so I could fly over the city. The boy led and I followed.

“We don’t have to go near anybody do we?” I didn’t want to embarrass him or myself with my appearance.

“No, I live in a fairly quite area. We can stay undetected as long as you are silent.” His voice was raised over the light breeze that we were flying into. He banked off to the left, I followed in suit. House upon house piled next to each other lay below me. They were all dark. All of the Angels were out late. I flew next to him, as close as our wings would allow. Fully outstretched they were wide, but the wider they were the easier it made flying. After a few minutes the boy started to dive down toward a street. I balked, while he circled with ease. Was I ready for this? Did I want to do this? I had come this far. Going back to the church would be a pain. I straitened out to a vertical position and lowered one foot at a time. My toes dangled over the ground, barely scrapping the cement. I lowered myself the last little bit to find that the boy was already three houses down fitting a key into a lock. I hurried to him, anxiously glancing around for signs of Angels. He gestured into the house. I made one more check to ensure that I hadn’t been seen and then stepped inside.

A light flashed brightly into existence I reeled back in shock. Heat warmed my insides thoroughly. The flight had made me colder than I realized. I could hear something fizzing on the stove. The boy slipped past me in my awe of the house and into what I figured to be the kitchen. The fizzling stopped immediately. I stood in a living room. A deep blue couch sat in the middle of the room with a big flat screen TV against the wall facing it. Lamps stood on beautiful glass end tables with metal legs. Potted plants stood in corners and on stands in random places on the walls. A coffee table displayed many different books and magazines. Many of them were open, and the ones that weren’t were hidden under piles of paper. It was very organized, and messy at the same time. I knew that the boy could find anything in the stack that I asked him to, but to me it looked like a rat’s nest.

“Make yourself comfortable, go ahead and have a seat.” He yelled from the kitchen. My curiosity got me and I wandered in the kitchen. It was beautiful and small. The cabinets were a medium colored wood. Silver draw pulls emblazoned them. A tall metal refrigerator stood open with the boy’s face jammed into it rummaging around for something. He wore a gray sweater, and simple skinny jeans. He looked decent. His figure was tall and skinny. The boy straitened and turned around. Only then did I see his flawless beauty. The boy’s eyes were even more perfect in the light. His lips and nose were the perfect shape and size. His lips were a light pink and looked more kiss-able than anything I had ever seen. His gray sweater illuminated his muscled chest and arms. Oh god, he was gorgeous. I wanted to just walk right up to him a pet his perfectly smooth cheek. I just wanted to stroke it. I held my emotions back and barricaded them behind a wall. I wasn’t going to let this wall collapse. “Mushrooms,” he smiled holding up a jar of sliced ones. In my awe I wasn’t able to respond. Just a silly love struck nod escaped me. Any girl would dream of being with him. Obviously, I bet even guys were all over him. A small round table sat in the corner right next to me. I opened a seat, inching the chair away from the table with my foot. The boy hurried from place to place in the room. His stove and oven were on opposite sides and he had something cooking with both. He looked ridiculous with the big oven mitts on his hands; it was hansom though, to see a man cooking. I tried to lower myself in the chair, but missed by about three inches. The chair slid into the back wall and tipped over, while I ended up on the floor. I felt like an idiot. The boy hurried over.

“Sorry,” I raised my shoulders apologetically.

“Why are you sorry? You just fell down. There’s no harm in that.” He outstretched his hand for me to take. I didn’t see it. I was focused on his face so close to mine. I shook my head to awaken myself. Lightly I set my hand in his. He pulled my up to my feet and gave me a sweet grin. As soon he was sure I was okay, he opened the cabinet on the other side of the kitchen and grabbed down two plates. Piling the spaghetti high he mounded sauce on the top of it. I giggled in fascination. “I figured that you were hungry.”

“Yeah, canned food is really filling.” I joked nervously. The boy set the food down on the table in front of me.

“Eat,” he commanded sweetly as he forked his own food out of the pot. As I shoved the food down my throat the boy sat across the table from me. “I apologize, I don’t remember what you said your name was.” This felt so cliché.

“I didn’t,” He looked at me expectantly; I knew he was waiting for my name. “Katie,” I confirmed. He nodded deep in thought.

“______” That was such a pretty name. I had always loved it. “What town did you used to live in?” I raised my head from my food.

“You know just because you’re helping me for a night doesn’t mean that I have to share my life with a complete stranger. I just done feel inclined that I have to do that.”

He looked a little surprised, well, more than a little. “ I wasn’t asking for your whole life story, just trying to make friendly talk. I’ve never been very good with the good stuff, even the small stuff is hard for me.” He raised the corner of one side of his mouth. “Is the food okay?” I didn’t have that green leafy stuff, parsley, I think.” The food was way more than good. My mouth seemed to explode with a thousand different flavors. I could feel every spice on my tongue and every ingredient on my taste buds. I felt like I was in heaven. Well, metaphorically in heaven. If floating on clouds was actually possible this is what it would feel like.

“Your friends were right, this stuff is to die for.” It was perfect, missing nothing at all. “You should seriously sell this stuff. It is that good. I think that I could live off of this stuff.” I slurped another long string of it into my mouth. Delicious. Why couldn’t you get this kind of stuff in a can?

“Oh, shoot.” He jumped up and ran to the oven. Ripping it open he tried to pull out the pan that sat there. He wasn’t wearing oven mitts. I hurried over and pulled out the cookie sheet and set it on the counter where the mitts were actually sitting. “Holly crap, that really hurt.” He whispered holding his hand. It was starting to blister and it was super red.

“Fill the sink with water, cold water.” I shook my head in his stupidity. Gently I opened the freezer door and grabbed a handful of ice. The water ran on high. I waited until it was fairly full and then dropped he ice cubes in and then headed back for more. The boy had his hand in the water, which was by now literally ice cold.

“That’s oober cold.” He took in a sudden breath. I laughed.

“Most people wear these when they touch things that are in a hot oven.”

“How did you do that? You held the stupid thing for longer than I did, and you don’t have a burn.” He paused and stared at my hand, which was in fine condition. “That’s your power, resistance to heat.”

“Close. What’s in the tin foil?” An object that was wrapped in foil sat on the hot sheet.

“What is it? Come on aren’t you going to tell me.” I sighed rolling my eyes at him. “Well, what is it.”

“You do know that you sound like a second grader wanting to know his present on Christmas Eve?” His eyes were as big as puppies and his bottom lip almost seemed to be sticking out. I concluded quickly that, I would not tell this Angel that I had met less than two hours ago, my secret. HE rolled his eyes and rested his arm that was not stuck in the freezing sink on the counter. I too rolled my eyes and picked his hand out of the sink. I ran my fingers over the blistering skin. He pulled back in pain. “It’s going to blister pretty badly. Keep it in that water for a little bit.” I was blowing of his question. There was no way that I was going to tell him anything. Just because he let me into his house didn’t mean that I felt obliged to tell this guy my whole life story. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, well I didn’t trust anybody, but more that I wanted to keep my past locked away so that it couldn’t hurt me. I took the liberty of bringing Adrian food to the table. He smiled gratefully. Something tugged at the corner of my mouth. I opened up the tin foil to find a small loaf of garlic bread. I handed a piece to Adrian, every thing was silent. The rest of our meal was silent, I was to why to speak and Adrian was shoving food into his mouth instead of words out of it. As we finished our meal I helped Adrian with the dishes, by loading all the dirty ones in the dishwasher and drying the ones he had already washed.

“I remember that my father used to call the dish washer the dish masher. It was hilarious because my brother and I seriously thought that the dishwasher crushed the dishes and then brand new sparkling ones appeared in their place. So every time my brother or I broke a dish, we would believe that another one would just appear.” I laughed Adrian. Why hadn’t my father been like that? He had been a serious man. Never laughing that much. He seemed to live off of work instead of food. He left at dog-thirty in the morning and didn’t get home till after eight. On the weekends he barricaded himself in his office. Nobody was allowed to speak to him or bother him. His work was very ‘stressful.’

We moved to the table and sat down. I traced the patterns on the lamination lazily. My daze kept me occupied. I stared without registering what I was looking at. My vision seemed to be glazed over. “So, “ our stillness was awkward. Adrian’s word pulled me from my trance.

“How is your hand? I asked looking up slowly.

“Getting better.” His voice was like that of a singer. He kept level and even. The sound was melodic and perfect. I wish that my voice would sound like that.

“Let’s find,” I let out the biggest yawn with a stretch. My eyes felt like they were attached by strings to ten-pound rocks. I was downright exhausted.

“Let’s get you to bed.” He put his feet to the floor and waited for me to follow him up the stairs. They were right out side the entrance to the kitchen. Trudging up the stairs I realized how tired I was. My senses could barely determine between red and blue. As we reached the top of the stairs Adrian led me down the hallway a couple of steps and to the right. Pushing open a door he walked in. I felt like I had walked in to the sun. Yellow bounced off every surface possible, and in it wasn’t yellow it was baby blue. It was like a bird’s nest, yellow straw with blue eggs. How could somebody stand the color of this room? The pain my eyes felt was downright tremendous.

“Turn. Out. The. Lights.” I stammered. Nothing else would escape my mouth. I couldn’t believe it; even the ceiling fan was yellow.

“I know it’s a little powerful, but that’s how I got it, and I haven’t had time to change it. I imagined how Adrian spent his time. Dancing in nightclubs, kissing girls, hanging with his friends, and dost definitely other things that city angels did. I didn’t really have an interest, or even care for that matter. “It isn’t bad once you turn out the lights, but until then, I’d keep your eyes shielded.” He sighed. “Um, do you have pajamas? I don’t really want to know, but if you don’t there is a shirt and a pair of pants in the drawer over there.” He pointed gracefully toward the dresser on the right wall.

“I forgot to ask if you have bandages, just wrap your hand. Thanks for the PJs.” I was ready for Adrian to leave. I wanted him to get out of here so I could get a good night sleep.

“Okay, I will.” He left shutting the door behind himself. I didn’t remember bring my bag up but it lay on the bed. I pulled open the zipper. That was one of my comfort sounds, the pulling of a zipper opening the silence. All of my clothes were badly shoved into the bag. I stuffed my hand into the dark recesses of the bag. I swore that I felt something biting my hand. The fabric of my pajamas was soft and soothing. I tugged, afraid that I might rip them. That thing must be biting them too. Yanking a little harder, I was able to reveal them. The thin purple fabric of my pants was warmer than most people would think. The royal blue tank-top that I always wore to bed was stained with black stuff on the rim of the hip. Removing all of my clothes till I was in my black bra and underwear, I tugged on the black pants. They were becoming to be too small for me, thank goodness for elastic. Jerking on the blue top I smoothed out the wrinkled torso. Not many churches that I knew of had irons and ironing boards.

I was in a curious mood. Tiptoeing over to the dresser that sat under the mirror I pulled open the top drawer. Inside were two pairs of neatly folded pajamas. Deep blue plaid fabric made up one of the pairs of pants and one pair of lime green ones lay next to it. Underneath each set of pants were white tee shirts made possible to fit over angel wings. All of the wings stretched from the middle of the shoulder blade to the small of the back at an angle. If the continued any farther down they would touch. Many shirts were made with straps that could be fit around a set of wings. My tank-top was just like that of a humans except that they had holes down the back to accommodate for my wings, and then straps that reached over the top of my wings to hold it up. From the straps was one more set that extended over my shoulder to the front of the shirt. From when I was a human, the shirt was barely any different. Still as comfortable as ever. I looked to the bed, the pillows looked so fluffy and comfortable. Launching myself from the floor I soared through the air to the bed. Ferociously, I ripped back the neatly folded covers. Baby blue sheets lay below, thank goodness, I didn’t have to feel like I was sleeping in between pee stained sheets.

When Adrian said that it would be warmer that the church, he wasn’t kidding. I felt like I had slipped my feet into a nicely warmed furnace. Not even my mummy bag kept me this warm. I just lay in the bed with the light on admiring true warmth. As a human I got cold more easily than an Angel, but now my temperature threshold was much higher. Still the rocks of the church did not emit heat, nor did the pews. I reached to turn off the light. I pulled the cord that had a little yellow duck with a blue ribbon around its neck, on the end of it. The room went dark, and my eyes were finally able to relax. No more yellow to poison my eyes. Why Adrian hadn’t painted it as soon as he moved into the house was a complete mystery to me. I would have made time to do it. Scheduled a date with the wall instead of a slut. The walls were probably better to go out with a date on than one of the girls that Adrian attracted with his gorgeous features. Even my eyes that had been so long out of society knew a pretty face when they saw one.

What was I doing here? In this house, in this warm bed. What was I thinking? I was an outcaste, and liked it that way. How many words had it taken him to convince me to come? To few. Was he taking advantage of me, stalking, figuring out where my weak spots were and then poking them with an inviting and red-hot spear? I fell asleep doubting my own thoughts and decisions, and then doubting those doubts.

I could see the boy out of the corner of my eye. He kept letting his watery blue eyes fall on my back. They felt like they were drilling holes into my back. The boy’s costume was an Angel. He had white wings that sparkled like diamonds and wore no shirt to cover his beautifully muscled his chest. His skinny jeans didn’t hang low around his butt like a usual boy, but they weren’t jacked up to his belly button like a nerd either.

“Katie, that guy is staring at you.” Amanda whispered to me. She was sitting next to me at the bar; soft drinks only. I wanted to smile at her, but my nerves were to high to do anything. If this guy was looking at me, it must mean something. I had never been the prettiest girl; that was Amanda. She was drop dead gorgeous. “I think he is coming over here. Katie.” Her voice got all high and excited. Both of us giggled together. The girl who was sitting on the other side of me got up and left with her boy friend leaving a space open for the boy to sit. I prayed silently that he would sit next to me. Oh, goodness, that would be heaven. The cushion of the bar chair next to me let out its air as someone sat on it. It was him. I turned excitedly to Amanda, not able to say anything. Her eyes were wide in amazement.

“Diet coke please.” The boy’s voice was smooth and enticing. I wanted to hang onto every word, but those three words were not that special. He turned to me. I tried to get my nerves to calm down. My stomach didn’t have butterflies, it had a hundred colonies of butterflies and they were trying to create a hurricane with their wing beats. “Hi, I’m Matt.” As soon as he smiled I literally saw the room brighten. The waiter placed a plastic cup on the counter, sloshing some out onto the bar in the process. Matt ignored the liquid as he picked up the drink and took a sip. The whole time his eyes didn’t waver from my face.

“Katie,” I answered back, trying to keep my voice like a calm sea.

“I have always loved that name, it is so beautiful.” This guy was hitting on me, I could not believe it. Life was great already but it was getting better by the second. He turned to face forward. He was so serious looking, even though he had a smile plastered on his face. His eyes were strait forward; focusing on nothing in particular that seemed interesting. “So,” he was so casual about this, I could swear that a spider could feel the vibrations of my heartbeat all the way across the room. “You’re the devil right?” how cliché he was an Angel, and I was the devil. The perfect match.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“You know I have a feeling that the next song will be pretty good, you want to go?” I was hesitating, I looked to Amanda, and her look was one that was asking me if I was an idiot. I smiled gingerly, and with out knowing it kind of teasingly.

“Sure, what the heck?” I followed him into the next room where people were dancing. Bare skin glistened in the dim light, eye make up glittered blindingly, and colors spat at you from every direction. Bodies moved like eels, weaving in and out of each other and swerving through the air. I balked. “I’ve never danced in my life.” I admitted quickly not noticing that the words had spilled out of my mouth, like backwash, till a few seconds later.

“Come on I’ll teach you, it’s easy,” I was amazed; I would have expected this boy to drop me like a hot potato. He held my hand gently and pulled me onto the dance floor. The song ended and people screamed in pleasure. We waited anxiously for the next song to begin. The lights became blue and the music was slow. He knew that this was going to be a slow dance. I saw couples joining together. I pulled away from him shaking my head. I was going to slow dance with anybody. I looked to the door where the bar was beyond. Amanda stood there. She signaled for me to dance. I trusted Amanda with my life, but sometimes she was a little daring. She always came out fine, unscathed and unhurt. What could one dance do to me? I took a step to Matt. He placed his hands on my sides, obviously careful of my boundaries. I put my hands like he had his. “We swayed back and forth, slowly turning in a circle. He moved his feet slowly allowing me to get used to it, but he was still able to keep up with the beat of the music. I became more confident, feeling like a swan I let him move me in circles, out feet became more complicated and more intertwined. We weaved in and out of people. It felt like I top spinning on a table, with no obstructions or bumps. He pulled me to a stop as the music halted. The dance felt quicker than it had been. Why did good things always have to be to fast?

(please i want constructive critisim, not mean comments.)