My name's Fang. I'm not your usual teenage boy in the neighborhood. I live by myself at sixteen, my parents died at their job of crime scene investigators when a psycho blew up the building my parents were investigating. He was arrested and deemed guilty of killing 4 other crime scene investigators. I'm what people would call 'emo' . I have been harassed, teased, beat up, and shunned because of a 'back condition' that I have, but really it's only my wings that gives me the lump on my back.
I have been harassed for 5 years because I have my 'back problems' it's just because my wings are at a weird angle when the scientists be- never mind I hate reliving those ideas. I am still haunted by those thoughts at The School in my dreams. I always wake up in a sweat in the middle of night because of those disastrous things the Whitecoats did to me. I always wonder if there are anymore like me.
I woke up to that same dream of Whitecoats plucking feathers of my obsidian wings when I was barely able to walk. I shook my head to get the thought out of my head, went to the bath room and took a cold shower. Surprisingly the union hadn't shut off the water to this abandoned apartment when it closed down. I wasn't hungry like most people in the morning, I haven't ate for a few days now so I expected to be hungry. I needed some fresh air so I went outside but had to be careful because the neighborhood that I live in is a dangerous one where you find people murdered on the roads everyday. I stepped outside and was blinded when a streak of light hit my eyes. In that second of blindness I felt something hit hard collide with my stomach.
"Hey Fang" said a rough voice to my left. Sam was smiling while trying to flip his sandy blonde hair from his devilish green eyes
"your not going to return my nice approach"? I didn't say anything
"okay then you want my 'special' approach" with that two other guys rounded the corner with bats
"I was thinking we'll help you out instead of just beating you up" Still I said nothing in between my ragged breaths.
"Still the quiet one I see. Well we were going straighten that back of yours by hitting it rapidly with bats". Still nothing came out of my mouth
"Does he even talk Sam"? Said one of the guys who had the bats
"Yeah he does Jacob just shut up" Sam snarled
"So when are we going to beat the crap out of him or not"? Said the other one
"Yes we will Cecil just wait another minute. Just get ready your bats" They took their bats and Jacob chucked one bat to Sam. By the sound of it the bat sounded metal.
"You know Fang you can consider yourself lucky" I looked up with a bloody mouth "this bat was used to beat up your cousins a few towns down"
My eyes flared with so much hatred I finally crooked out a few words:
"You son of a bitch should rot in hell" Jacob and Cecil grinned an evil grin
"So he does speak I though-"
"JACOB"
"Sorry"
"So Fang how about we get to it instead of just talking 'bout it 'kay" Sam spun the bat in his hand and struck it to my back. He had easy access because I was on my hands and knees right now.
Sam, Cecil, and Jacob kept pummeling me with bats, fists, and kicks to my whole body. They jabbed and kicked and slammed and tackled. They beat me up until I was wrapped in a ball bleeding, bruised, and infuriated with pain. They were swearing each time I felt another blow on my already sore body. One last kick from Sam they started wrapping up with a blow to my head.
"You're done for today Fang and remember if you call the cops... you'll know what will happen next don't ya"
I simply nodded
"good so I don't have to stay here and look at your bruised up face anymore. Let's go guys". Sam left with Cecil and Jacob on his tail.
I crawled back inside with the little to no strength I had left in me. I passed out in a matter of seconds on the cold floor.
I woke up in a sweat again from the same dream. I looked at the wall clock and it read 8pm. I couldn't take the pain and suffering anymore. I just can't handle it any longer all the beatings, the criticism, the cussing to my face, names, and especially SAM. I just can't take it any longer. I grabbed a knife, opened my window, and flew to the roof of my apartment building.
I grabbed the hem of my shirt ripped it off me and started digging into my back with the knife to cut the wings off. I started screaming like I had never screamed before. Screamed harder then all the beatings wrapped together. The pain it was excruciating. I finally felt as though 20 pounds were off my shoulder literally. The pain at first was like getting pummeled by a train over and over. Then it all seemed to fade away as I felt my life slip out of my reach and vanished as though never there to begin with.
2 days later
3rd P.O.V.
A flock of five avians were flying over the town where a 16 year-old boy committed suicide but still unknown to the police. A young woman with brown hair and blonde highlights spotted a figure on a rooftop. She could smell blood because of her over-sensitive sense of smell. She signaled the other four to descend to that rooftop. They landed and what they saw would make most people blow chunks, but they were used to it seeing dead bodies laying around. But what was different about this body was that right in his hand was a knife covered in blood. But what caught the group was the pair of obsidian wings to the right and left of them.
The group of five gasped, excluding the tall one with strawberry blonde hair, at the sight and started running toward the body until the young woman halted them with a hand and said:
"Stay back, I'll handle this" Three stopped and silenced but the tall one said:
"We have to help him maybe he's still alive maybe we can, we can..." His voice was weak with sorrow even though he had never met the man. He didn't want another funeral to go underway because they were to late.
"Just stop I'll see if we can help him first and if we can't I'll call you over to help me haul him somewhere". The strawberry blonde haired man nodded and stepped back. The woman with brown hair and blonde highlights held the man's head with utmost care, checked his pulse to see if he is still alive.
He wasn't.
The woman from before waved her hand signaling the others to approach her and the already dead man. They walked fast but cautiously to the body. The boy with big blue eyes and spiked blode hair looked at his curly blonde haired younger sister who had tear-stained cheeks. The man with strawberry blonde hair looked at the mocha-skinned girl who was clinging to his arm crying for the man she never met but seemed as though they should have. The woman from before said under her breath:
"This man who thought of his wings as death itself does not know that his wings are what gave him his life". She turned to the young eight year old and said
"Take one wing" She turned to the mocha-skinned girl and said "take the other wing" She turned to the tall one and said me and you carry him somewhere"
"But where do you plan on bringing him" The woman turned to the setting sun and turned back to her flock who just lost a fellow avian to suicide.
"We're bringing him back to mom, Dr. Martinez". They spread their wings one by one they flew off to Arizona where they will have to bury yet another one of their unknown comrades.
So tell me what you thought of it and review.