The Fallen Angel

June 12, 2012
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You awoke and heard a scream, did you really? How could you have heard such a thing with a storm going on outside your curtains? Glancing sleeping at the clock, you mumbled out a complaint. It was hardly dawn and yet-there it is again! This time for sure, you knew the sound was real. Struggling through the tangled mess of sheets, you peeped through the curtain.
Yes, there is something out there, you thought.
A small form lying down, its outline showing faintly through the rain. But surely it was just an animal. A dog, probably a cat, died by getting run over. Wrong again. A long jagged line of lighting flashed, for an instant giving light. The mysterious, broken figure, has a face of a young boy. His mouth, bloodied and open wide into a scream. You didn't hesitate, not even think of the possible dangers that could be lurking outside. Slipping on flip flops, grabbing a coat that you left hanging on the door side, you ran out tripping into the rain. Instantly, you got poured on, soaked to the bone looking like a sewer rat. Nearer and nearer, you got to the boy, but once a few feet away, your whole body froze. Impossible you thought, yet you are witnessing it. Could it be another dream? A dream within a dream? No, you couldn't escape the truth. Lying at your feet was indeed a boy, but one with wings. They were nearly clipped off, plastered to his side by chains of gold. The design, one you could not decipher, was etched in metallic silver. But the wings! The wings were a grander sight! They still glowed an unearthly white light, but they dimmed by the second. You dared yourself to touch them, but pulled the hand back. The boy, the fallen angel, looked at you with a knowing expression. His entire face was covered in black grim, but the eyes were of a sharp crystal blue color. Though the color was indeed beautiful, you grew wary on how they were cold, colder than the rain. The stare did more by seeping into your fragile skin. You couldn't help, not even protest against the examination. You felt trapped. It was then you knew that there was something unsettling and dangerous about this boy, if you could even call him that.
He spoke, "Free me."
Though boyish, not even deep, his tone was one of command.
"Break the chains," he says again.
You hesitated, tried to avoid the boys gaze, but they held you fiercely. The feeling as if being held by the chin.
"No," you said, through clenched teeth.
He yelled, "Do it!"
It hurt, the boys yell hurt. Not only that, it sent painful vibrations through you. Your ear drums felt they were about to pop. You tried to cover your ears, but what good would that do? You knew it wouldn't be much, but...the feeling of trying to protect one self is unbearable. Your five senses suddenly became acute. You notice the crude scratches on the boy's pale skin, covering every inch, blood still spilling through. Maybe the trotted cells were screaming too. You smelled only him, the waste and sweat coating and radiating from his brown, nearly black, hair.
How horrible! So badly, you wanted to cover your nose, but your ears! What about your ears! Hearing his screams was too overwhelming, you wished for silence, for deafness, even death itself. Your hands, you felt the aches and the ferocious strength. You were sure of that because you tore your hair from its roots, catching scraps of scalp. Why not use the strength to strangle the boy to silence, to shut him up forever. But again, you could not. Finally the taste...nothing but the saltiness of blood. Remember, you've bitten your lip in the hopes of trying to bit your tongue.
Maybe, maybe, you thought desperately, maybe I should break the chains.
What harm could it do? Nothing, that's what! Nothing, just as long he shuts up!
You moved closer to the boy, yelling in desperation, "Alright, alright! I'll free you!"
But the boy did not seem to hear, he just kept on screaming. Shaking his head as he do so, sending brown pebbles of dirt flying from his hair. Now you are sobbing, begging him again to stop screaming. Even you couldn't hear your attempts for your ear drums have started to bleed. you grabbed the cursed chains. They set fire to your hands, but you held on in a frenzy. You pulled, and pulled, and pulled. On the tenth try, you stopped. You fell and lay at your side, blood dripping from your mouth, nose, and more from your ears. You are dead, you will no longer be able to get up. You will no longer cry, no longer be in pain, and no longer hear those screams. Those screams a mortal should never hear. The boy, when you died, he stopped screaming. He looked at your face and touched the skin. Instantly, it disintegrated.
The fallen angel cried, "You were supposed to be the one who would save me."

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