And with one last drop of the crimson liquid down my arm, I grew wings.
Beautiful they were, pitch black feathers aligned in delicate rows. They stretched up, and shot me upwards. Higher and higher I went, through the sky.
Euphoria blossomed in my chest.
But as I went higher, my air began cutting off. I found myself choking, spluttering for air. My wings fell limp, dissolving into ashes. I plummeted.
I was back in my bathroom, the pristine white stained with dark blood.
I allowed the blackness to take me completely as my eyes fluttered shut one last time.
