SHORTS | A Collection of Short Stories

Angel

Hey y'all! This is another story I wrote for an assignment except with a little more detail because the assignment had a word limit.

I highly recommend you listen to Wide Eyed by Billy Lockett (malec fans say heyyyy) while reading this just cos that's what gave me the inspiration for the start of this story and the general feel for it (linked above).

Enjoy!

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"How long will I fly out until I listen?"

She raises her head slowly as her arms glide to the air from her chest, outstretched as if they are wings. The pure white feathers are packed next to each other yet feel as light as air, but of course, this is all in her head. Imagining the details makes it seem more real. For instance, she can almost feel the rays of sunlight splaying across her face, the warmth crawling down and into her silken skin despite the raging storm swirling outside, demanding to be felt.

"Truth is I'm used to making it up on my own"

She rises gracefully while her feet carry her across the room in a series of jumps, kicks and pirouettes. The dust rustles on the concrete below her coarse feet, but in her head, she's not there. Through her mind, she escapes to a place where the windows are large and the golden hues of the sun illuminate the world around her. A wall-sized mirror adorned with intricate carvings makes the marble tiles extend, giving the illusion that the room is much bigger than it really is.

The sound of boots clicking down the hallway brings her back to reality. Goosebumps erupt and a shiver runs through Faye's body because she knows what's coming. It has been a week since Xael has come to visit her and it's safe to say, it has been the best week she's had in a long time. Disdain and detest don't even begin to describe how she feels towards him.

She drops to the ground and scrambles to her corner, suddenly self-aware. Black patches of dirt are smeared across her hands and legs, her hair a tangled mess. She hugs her knees closer to her chest and tears rim her emerald irises as she gazes longingly at the tiny window above her head, remembering her almost successful escape. Faye was still new to this place, her determination at its peak and her energy not fully drained out yet. She had managed to bend the prison cell-like poles on the window behind the sliding glass. The window was tiny, barely enough to fit a moving box through but it was enough for her to slip out. However unbeknownst to her, that wasn't the only thing stopping her from her escape. This place was and still is lined with security guards multiple times her size. At her fullest strength she might have been able to fight them off but a month into her capture without sunlight and proper food, she stood no chance.

"Faye." Xael smiles showing his full set of teeth, sharp as knives. He opens the cell door and saunters in. "My favourite little princess. Have you been dancing again?" he eyes the lines formed in the dust from where her feet brushed it aside just moments earlier, before gently pushing a strand of hair off her face. She doesn't make the same mistake twice. Her face remains expressionless despite the burning desire within her to flinch and push Xael as far from her as possible, but he wouldn't like that. She'd lost herself multiple meals for flinching when she was new, she knew better now.

Cautiously she asks, "Where have you been?".

"Oh, just having a little fun," he replies as he stands up, flicking his wrist dismissively. "Nothing for you to worry about. Come on now, you know the drill." Xael smiles, his voice light and kind but the meaning behind his words not so. With her heart beating fast and dread swimming in her stomach Faye does as she's told. She stands silently as he ties her hands together with a rope and follows him out into the hallway, seeing a sight she certainly did not miss. Cells exactly like hers line her left and right, all just beside each other but separated by the metal walls and wooden doors. From the corner of her eyes she sees the boys and girls barely her age pressed up against the small rectangular piece of glass attached to the doors, some staring longingly to escape their own company, others – mostly the new ones – banging the stout Oakwood with the desire to be set free. Some doors are empty.