Angel Wings

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
instead of giving a description what this story is about, let me just say this instead. my 15 year old daughter wrote this story and she gave it to me to do as i will. when i read it, i loved it and want to share it and in no way shape or form has anything been done to change it from it's raw form. hope you like as much as i did.

Submitted: February 21, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 21, 2017



authors note- this story is originally from my Booksiesilk site portfolio.


Today is the day I finally get my wings back. They were stolen from me. I was a three year old little kid, who had the honor of being blessed with beautiful pearl white wings. I could fly far and high, over the layers of clouds above the world. I lost them in the midst of one of my childish tantrums.

I flew away from my mom and dad. Not far, just to the park swings. I remember thinking the breeze of going back and forth was nothing compared to the open sky, and the feeling of being free while you fly through the clouds. When I came back, my mom and dad had made the decision, they took them. My natural born gift, they decided to take them.

My father wanted them gone from when I first came out of the womb, he said that this was the final straw. However, my mother loved them and thought I was God's blessing to the world, while my father felt that I was more of a glitch in the human race. Yeah my mom said he loved me but I knew better.

Finally now I'm living on my own. I have been for a while, I heard on the news a few days back about an accident. A plane headed for Baltimore, Maryland from Texas crash-landed half way there, all due to engine failure. Five hundred feet they fell, with no survivors but who'd want to be after a fall from so high?

I felt their pain, their panic, and now I feel the guilt. I could have saved them. All of them, but I needed my wings in order to have saved them. So I decided to get my wings back.

The news of the crash made me have nightmares, it brought back memories of the surgery and the nights leading up to it and after. The nights leading up were horrible, I was chained down like a prisoner in my own home. The nights after were worse though, my mother would sing to me, while I cried and she'd trace the scar of where my wings had been only a day or so before.

A full week of intense nightmares, so to end them, I made my appointment and picked the pair I wanted to be mine forever. I couldn't get them back surgically, because the doctors said it was impossible ( though I believe that they just wanted to keep them for research). So I'm getting the next best thing.

I enter the tattoo parlor with a light smile as I remove my shirt and bra in a changing room. With a blanket, I cover myself as I walk out and lay on my stomach so that the man can carve my wings back into place. I feel the cold cleaning fluid on my back, then finally I feel the needle pierce my skin.

The ink slowly fills the space. I lay still in the same spot for about an hour and a half. Then he's done. I slowly stand and walk to the mirror and look to see the creation on my back. I smile and put my clothes back on. Running out of the changing room, I hug the man who has already given me a funny look, I proceed to pay. I later then leave the parlor with a smile from ear to ear, I had no clue for what type of night I was in for.

I spend many hours tossing and turning. Waking up from pain and passing out from it. Finally I can't take it anymore, so I get up and go to the medicine cabinet to look for some pain killers. I choke the pills down and chug a bottle of water. I return to my bed only to cry from pain and then pass out from it for the final time of the night.

I wake up to the sun light shinning through my window and hitting my face with it's warm rays. Lazily, I get up and take some more pain pills because of the lingering pain. My back feels so heavy as I walk to my mirror to see something that stops me dead in my tracks.

They are silk white. They are long enough to reach the back of my knees. I touch them, they are so soft. I pull one of the feathers off and I feel a pinching sensation from that little spot. Blood trickles down from where I pulled the feather. I cover it and look at the feather. It's transparent for the most part, looking as if i'm holding a mist of white in my hand. Then the color darkens and darker to night and then burst into flames in my hand. I drop it just as it turns to clear ash.

I look in the mirror and test them. Slowly I lift myself up only a few inches off the ground, then land firmly back down. I take a last look with an amazed expression. The scar from when I was little is gone. In place are the beautiful wings now there. Tears form in my eyes and trickle down my cheek, only to land on my wings where the blood was coming from, and instanly it's healed. Breathlessly I gaze at them. They are beautifully crafted. They have the perfect white shine to them.

"I can't believe this," I whisper," I have my wings back."

© Copyright 2018 Silent1. All rights reserved.

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