Take These Broken Wings (Sander Sides)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Have fun in a certain man's mind. Mess with it all you want. He deserves it. Also very gorey descriptions because my mind is fucked and I like to write about guts and shit. All the gorey paragraphs will be in italics, along with words/sentences that need emphasis. Tread lightly and have fun, fellow humanoids!

I had finally made it to Chicago. Most of my sources were still active, so it wasn't hard to find the location of my disgrace of a son. Normally, when people are met with a challenging task, they give up. They wait for their 'opportunity' which is really just their way of waiting for the problem to go away. But my problems?

My problems won't go away until my son is dead.

My problems won't be solved until his blood runs cold in my hands. Until his intestines are laid out like a fleshy boa drenched in blood and grime. I want to rip open his throat with my bare hands while watching him gasp for air. He deserves it, you know? Ruined my life by being born. Killed his true mother during birth. Her screams still echo in my mind when I look into his eyes. It's like he knew that he killed her and he was proud of it.

I want to skin him alive for what he's done.

He was living with The Kingsley's now. Another powerful family when it comes to money. Sure they weren't apart of a huge drug cartel, but they were definitely on my hit list.

You see, Reginald and I go back. We go way back. Farther than even middle school. We met in the third grade. Reginald came from a family, much like mine. We didn't have a lot of money, and we never knew when our next meal was going to be. Kind homes and families to come back to after school, though.

We were best friends. People used to pick on us all the time for being so close, but friends of a feather and all that. We understood each other unlike anyone we have ever met before. We never understood why, I mean, we were only kids. No one had taught us any better and we had no idea what it meant.

Well, we didn't have a word to describe it yet, anyway. Middle school came around and I went to a different school than he did. My dad had earned enough money to send me to a private school. I was quite popular here, which lead me to my job of selling drugs. The teachers were all on my regular list of customers, so it wasn't like I was going to get caught. Anyone who did have a mind to snitch, did get in a lot of trouble for it.

Within a year I was the king of the school. Eighth graders bowed in my presence and sixth graders cower in fear. It felt nice, but it didn't fill the whole that was left by Reginald. I missed him dearly and I still had no idea why. Most people could get over the loss of a friend quickly, so why was this different? Why did this time have to be different?

High school rolled in quicker that I hoped for. I lost all control I had in a matter of days, only people in my grade knowing who I was and what I was capable of. My first periods were boring, mostly the classes I needed to take, Math, Science, English, what have you. But that didn't mean that the rest of my day was bothersome.

I took money management, which was something I knew how to pass easily. And then I took Spanish. Money Management was before my lunch period and I had it with Reginald.

I took my seat, as per usual for a class, and a minute before the bell, he walked in and took a seat next to me.

Puberty treated him very nicely. He seemed like the Disney prince anyone sensible dreamed of. Hair falling perfectly on his face, an amused look on his face as he noticed me next to him. Wings looking just as soft as I remembered them. But one sentence ruined it all...

"Hello! I'm Reginald! It's nice to meet you!"

And just like that I felt my heart crack. He didn't remember me. At all. I wanted to run away and cry but also beat him to death. I spent so long wondering how he was, what he was thinking about, what he was wearing, who he made friends with- and he just fucking forgot me?

He consumed my every waking hour and this is how he repaid me...?

A few moments later, Rose came waltzing in, rose red, much like my son's, colored wings that didn't even match mine. Mine were darker by a few shades. When he wrapped his wings around her, I had to repress a jealous growl, "Nice to meet you too, Reginald. Name's Charles."

Rose is who ruined my life before Virgil though.

I always picture her head on a spike, being displayed on the roof of my house. Hair matted down with her own blood. Face distorted into a scream, because I would take out her organs one by one as she was still alive. I would gouge her eyes out and put them on my car's rear view mirror. I would get to be near Reginald without the urge to punch him again. It would all be wonderful if I killed her on her walk home that day.

But that wouldn't be fun now would it?

I stalked her from that day one. Watched as she walked home to see why he could possibly like her. She had a rich family. Bingo. That had to be the only reason. He wanted to help his family by marrying her. It is easy to fake soulmates nowadays. Especially if you meet in not so public places. Favorite colors are very easy to fake.

But bonds aren't easy to fake. Emotions aren't easy to hide. And neither are cyan wings.

I thought that as soon as we were together again, all will be well. He promised it would be okay and that he would see me again. We would be best friends again. But he purposefully forgot me and who I was just so he can marry some slut who doesn't know her place for money!!

We were supposed to be soulmates God damnit! Reginald and I were supposed to be perfect for each other...