The Girl With Broken Wings

Chapter 3 ~ San Diego, Present Day

"Rough night?" I was asked as I slammed my locker door with unintentional anger, I had my sunglasses on because I couldn't stand the suns blasting rays.

"Don't even get me started, Trish," I grumbled as I massaged my temples and made my way to my 4U French course,

"You know for someone who is what? 200 years old? You still have no idea how to hold your liquor." She laughed and I leaned on her shoulder, she was the 1 out of 3 people who knew what I was...

A fallen angel who can see everyone's wings.

Trish at one point asked me to draw her wings out after I told her my secret, she had this huge silvery-white wings that had literal glitter on them. I wish I was joking when I said that. But nope... She is the sweetest person I ever met buuuuut the biggest partier I know as well.

I've learned over the years that the colour, shape, size, and texture of the wings reflect the person's personality. If the person has murdered or committed crimes their wings shrink and darken. For this reason... I work with the police department on the weekends.

"First of all... Let's not bring up last night. Second of all, I'm 302... But thanks for making me feel more confident in myself!" She threw her head back in happiness, "You've got nothing to worry about! You hardly even look over the age of 127!"

"Who's 127?"

"Your mom." Trisha retorted to Aidan who had decided to barge into our conversation, "'Your mom jokes have been dead for over 3 years Trish... Find some better comebacks."

"Find some better pants. You literally wear the same pair of sweatpants each and every day!!! It's gross!!" Aidan threw me a pleading glance after her comment and all I did was throw my hands up in a defensive manner, "You picked a fight with her... You end it--"

The warning bell rang in the middle of my sentence, "besides... I gotta head to French!" I chirped as I raised my hand to high five Trish. He gave me a look at made me glad that I had to leave.

"See you later Nik!"

"See ya, Trish!!!" Our hands made contact and the crisp clap resonated against the walls.

I never truly understood why I put myself through the torture of school. Or any mundane activity for that matter! I could be in university getting my 30th Ph.D. or some shit like that... But no. I force myself here to watch these people hook up, break up, drink up, fuck up and repeat this process until they get to uni.

This blows.

My mind drifted back to Orion and what he said about the war, I probably should try harder to find those feathers of mine. So I could mend them back together into my wings, in my years in this realm I've only managed to find 4 out of my hundreds of pieces of my wings. Which makes me believe that they might've been burned when they came through the portals.

My hand guided my pencil across a random page in my notebook as the teacher spoke. The more I drew the more and more I realized that I was drawing the teacher with the handful of students that sat in front of me. It wasn't just the teacher in her usual flowy dress and perky heels, but she had her wings. They were silver with tuffs of white that were falling onto the ground and no one knew, they barely touched her ankles as she paced back and forth in front of us.

She paused and looked up from the book in her hand to see if we were paying attention. I was the only one who truly was because I could afford to gain a few language credits in my never-ending life. The thing about being a fallen angel from The Blue... Is that you never. Fucking. Die.

You stay and look the same age for the rest of eternity until you commit murder, get murdered or commit suicide... After that, no one knows where you go.

But as the days go by... All I could do is think about how my life could've played out if I never left and just stayed to fight the battles. Reminisce about the times that had passed on and the memories no one else could know.