The shirt fell to the ground. His pale green eyes glanced over his shoulder into the mirror. He flinched at the sight of them, remembering the as their original light brown. Reminded, once again, of the pain of his transformation.
It had been worth it though. His eyes were his true ones now.
His eyes turned back to the destination they had originally intended. That hadn't been what he had originally intended. Maybe they were just some weird side effect of the ritual.
Picking his shirt off the tiled floor, a horrifying idea jumped from oblivion into his mind. What if some entity, a demon or something, had interfered with the awakening of his true self, what his soul looked like. It would be catastrophic. It might change his soul.
That didn't happen, he assured himself. He had spent weeks of preparation to make sure something like that didn't happen.
With a twinge of unease, he pulled his shirt back on. He was fine.
Falling easily into an almost meditative state, induced by long practice, he calmed himself, banishing the harassing thoughts from just a moment ago.
But the teenager had a lot to worry about. Overnight, a strange image had appeared on his back.
A pair of tattooed wings.
Thank you for reading. Please review, it keeps me motivated to write.
I'd like to Alice Hoffman, author of Incantation, for the poem that now adorns my profile.
I would also like to thank every single one of my friends.
You are what keeps me going.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the Wincester brothers.
But think of all the fun for the fangirls if I did.
Mwahahahahahahahahaha!