Mark of the Angels

I'm different. Different from everybody else. I'm more than just a passing face. I'm special, and I know that. But I didn't know how special.

My body was flung into another senseless nightmare. Blackness all around, and I'm falling. Not falling to my death. Just before I hit, something stopped me. It was white and spread over me like a vision. Almost surrounding me. It engulfed me and lifted me up, away from the treacherous fate that was my fall. Every night. For five years. These dreams never cease to come. After my parents' death, I had these dreams all the time. I couldn't even take a nap without falling into an endless plummet.

I woke with a startling gasp for air. How was I supposed to keep doing this? I woke up in the middle of the night sweating and confused. And I stayed up until time for school. Everyday I went to school an hour early to rid me of the despair that is my home. My uncle is an alcoholic and my aunt is too soft spoken. Now, when I say drunk, I don't mean passed out by four in the evening. I mean drunk. Never a sober moment. Drunk to the point of beating your wife and niece until they go unconscious from the pain. Pain that was hidden from all outside eyes. My aunt always replies to my pleas to turn him in with "We would tell them, dear, but they would take away your uncle. And I love him too much for that." I sometimes wonder how she could love him at all. But, I love him too. He's family. They are all I have.

I shuffled out of bed silently, heading over to my body length mirror as usual. I twisted my body to look at my back. At first I thought they were bumps from beatings on top of my shoulder blades. It's been three years since I first noticed them. They had grown considerably larger. In fact, they had grown into giant, ominous wings. Yes, wings. I don't know why I have them, they are just there. I've hid them from my aunt and uncle and everyone else in the world. They're beautiful white feathered wings. Like doves' wings, but bigger, much bigger. They were almost as tall as me now. I stroked them gently. I had escaped damage to them from my uncle somehow. I always faced him when he hit me. He'd been smart enough to keep away from my face. I looked at the rest of my body, just wishing it could be as perfect as the wings that set gently on my back.

I slid into my clothes for the day, wincing as they slid over my newly acquired bruises and cuts. I curled my bronze hair and settled for natural make up. I applied a little mascara to make my hazel-green eyes pop out. Satisfied, I went to my closet and pulled some shoes from the pile of things and slid them on. I grabbed my backpack and set on shoving my enormous white shields in. It takes some work but I eventually got them to look normal. Whatever that would be in my situation.

I silently creeped down the stairs into the kitchen. I searched for food for breakfast. We had nothing. Again. My stomach grumbled. I checked the clock to see how long I had to wait to head to school. 5:34. I sighed. Two more hours til I could leave. The school didn't open until 7:30. I grabbed my keys and stepped out the door. I hurried down the sidewalk to my royal purple dodge charger, inherited from my mother who always had a knack for fancy cars. I started the engine and pulled out of the driveway, away from that house that could never be a home, and away from those people who didn't know me at all and who didn't want to know me.

I sped past that town that held me in, suffocating me. I took my car to the mountains about twenty minutes away from life. The huge mountains that were so dear to me. They were my get away. There I could breathe. There I could be myself. There I didn't have to hide my wings. I climbed half way up in a mere half an hour. Stopping at a cliff That stuck out from the mountain quite a distance. I'm a natural rock climber. Random, I know. But what can I say? It's easy. I shrugged out my wings and peeled off my backpack, turning to face the open land.

The breeze touched my pale skin with gentleness and warmth. I come up here often to just sit and be. I gazed, enjoying the sunrise. I looked around at the scenery, decided and stood up. As I stood, I spread my arms as far as they would go, I leaned over, and without a sound, propelled myself over the edge.