His bare toes gripped the gritty edge of the building. His hands unclenched and his arms hung limply by his side. He skin felt frozen from the chilling wind at his back. He was towering high above the city. From up here it was beautiful. Colors against the night sky reached up and mesmerized him. They were swirling in a stunning rainbow of light, and he almost forgot that down twelve stories, at the concrete sidewalks, in the real world, where thousands of people walked everyday, it was evil. But he had the evidence and it was grafted into his back.
His black hair flew in feathery layers around his pale face. His dark eyes reflected the neon fires below him. No one could reach him. Not up here. Here he was truly alone. Behind him was solid, secure safety and before him was . . . nothing. Nothing and everything.
Very slowly, he unfurled the two silky black wings, but he kept them wrapped around his body like a curtain. For one moment, he thought about stepping back. Going back to running away and hiding and fear. But you couldn't give them what they wanted.
He snapped his wings open wide, almost propelling himself forward. The fierce wind threatened to billow below the black feathers and flip him off the structure, to hurtle him into the air. He slowly raised his arms in front of him to keep his body steady. He looked straight down. Directly below him, he could see the top of the heads of the people walking, the size of ants from this height. They didn't know. They knew nothing at all. They thought they knew pain.
Try being me.
He lifted his gaze and looked out once again at the sky. This was where the world and space collided for him. Colors mingled with blackness. Good and evil. Love and hate. Light and dark.
Black and white.
He took a breath and hurled himself into infinity.