Prairie Grove, AR

2:34 AM

September 28th, 2000

Howell Household

"She's a disgrace."

"She's just a child, David!"

Her parents are arguing, again. This doesn't surprise Eleanor anymore. It has been a long time since there has been any kind of peace in her household. Her mother, with herders brown curls and green-gray eyes, is always picking at her for the way that she eats or her posture. Her father, entirely different with blonde hair and brown eyes, always yelling at her for not doing better in school, for not trying to make a better impression in the community. They live in a very small town, with a very small school, and yet it's still hard for Eleanor to impress anybody.

"An immature child."

"Yes, well, there's nothing we can do about that. Homeschooling might be our best option."

Eleanor is laying against her door, listening to them through the floor vents. Homeschooling wouldn't be any worse than what she has now. The only great part about school is that she gets to be away from her abusive parents for a little while. Even though they treat her like shit here, she still can't help but love them. It's probably the worst kind of dysfunctional relationship she can imagine having.

"Homeschooling?"

"Yes, she would learn better and we could keep her attention. I'm home all day anyways."

The fourteen-year-old curly haired brunette shuts her chocolate brown eyes as they well up with tears. The arguing would end here. No more trying to point out what flaws she has, which are the worst and what therapist they should send her to in Fayetteville that might be able to make her better. No more. They would just keep her here, locked up where they can constantly monitor her every move. There would be no more fun school trips to the zoo, or arts and crafts. Instead, she would be forced to sit in front of her mother and suffer day in and day out until there is nothing left of who she used to be.

"I'll send in the paperwork tomorrow."

"Good. I think this could be a new beginning for her, a better one at the very least."

Save me, Eleanor whispers in her mind, listening as her parents now make plans on what she could study, from foreign languages to sciences and maths. Someone, please save me. Anyone.

"Consider yourself saved." Eleanor's head snaps up at the voice. Sitting on her bed, not even five feet in front of her is a man probably three times her age, munching on a chocolate bar. "What? Never seen a Trickster before?"

"Trickster?" She questions, her gaze following the outline of the golden wings that are only partially hidden by the shadows. "You have wings?"

"Wings?" He swallows his bite, leaning forward. Now they become more pronounced, feathers of gold extending out into the light of her one little lamp.

"Yeah, wings. On your back. Am I going crazy?"

The man before her stares at her for a good long second, almost as if he's studying her. It makes the teen feel incredibly uncomfortable. Her parents are squabbling again, it's the only noise filling the small bedroom. Their voices echo off of her plain white walls, resonating around the two figures in the room. Eleanor stares right back at him, her heart ramming against her ribcage.

"Not crazy, at least not yet." With a snap of his fingers the candy bar is gone. "You called me here, kiddo. You wanted someone to come save you, and I answered that call."

"So, you're like a guardian angel?"

"Eh... Something along those lines." He waves his left hand around, flashing her a grin. "What do you need help with?"

It's almost like Eleanor doesn't even have to answer. Her mother and father's screaming gets even louder. One second they were agreeing with each other, the next they're back at each other's throats. It wouldn't be long before they go to bed, this is pretty much how they tired themselves out at night. Eleanor looks from the vent on the floor, to the thing still sitting on her bed.

"Oh, shitty parents huh? I know where you're coming from there. What do you want me to do about it? I can punish them." He leans forward, settling his elbows on his knees. "I can even split them up if you want the yelling and fighting to end. All it would take is your mommy catching daddy in a love affair, then 'poof', gone. Might get them both of your back, don't ya think?"

"No." She has to admit, she thought about it for a brief second. She could make her parents feel pain, and if she got rid of one then yeah, the other might be off of her back. But, she reminds herself that she does love them, even if they've been treating her like shit. And they love her, too.

"You sure? Because they were talking about you like you meant nothing to them, like you're a nuisance. Doesn't that make you angry?"

"No." Eleanor shakes her head more incessantly. "They just want what's best for me."

"And to do that they have to lock you in this room? Yeah, don't think I didn't miss that kiddo. Admit it, they don't care if they cause you any kind of pain, they're selfish."

"They're my parents!"

"No. They're the people who created you, but they aren't parents. Not by a long shot." He sighs heavily, leaning back on the bed with a little 'creak'. "Kiddo, I can't do anything unless you specifically ask me for help. If you don't, then I'll leave it alone."

"Then leave it alone." Why is she saying this? All Eleanor wanted was for someone to come save her, and yet here she is, denying help from this supernatural stranger that might just be a figment of her imagination.

"Fine." He swiftly stands on his feet, wings starting to curl around his body. "Just keep what I said in mind, kiddo. If you ever need me, or you change your mind, just call my name. Oh - I didn't introduce myself." He kneels down in front of her, extending out his hand.

"The name's Gabriel."

December 24th, 2000

Howell Household

9:46 PM

Eleanor hadn't seen Gabriel in months. Any time she felt the need to call out for help she resisted, thinking that he may get the wrong idea and lash out at her parents. She thought it would have been better to just keep herself from saying anything about him or to him, if he really did exist that is. Her parents might have just labeled her as crazy and sent her away to somewhere where they would never have to look at her ever again.

So, she kept her thoughts to herself. She didn't know how bad it was going to get.

"What the hell is this?" Her report card from the online school. Eighth grade didn't matter that much to her since she knew it wouldn't really effect her future of anything like that. She struggled a lot in Pre-Algebra, Eleanor had never really been that great at math to begin with.

"It's a B." Eleanor responds. Her mother is sitting right behind her at the kitchen table with her arms crossed over her chest. She can tell that they're both disappointed in her.

"And what do we say about B's?"

"They're unacceptable."

"So, why did you make a B?"

"I-I don't know, I'm not good at math."

"That's no excuse!" Her father slams the paper down on the counter, making her jump. Tears begin to form in Eleanor's eyes. "Your mother has been tutoring you, and God forbid an online school be any harder than the one you were in!" He begins to wave his hands around erratically, yelling obscenities.

"It's no my fault!" Eleanor finally tries to yell back. For the first time in her life, she tries to defend herself from the accusations of being a horrible child who never tried hard enough in their eyes.

It's when her father slaps her straight across the face that she feels something in her snap. Never has her dad hit her before, and she never thought that he would. She thought it would just be yelling and pushing or shoving. This is what breaks her. Eleanor turns out of the kitchen and runs, runs as fast as her legs can carry her. She runs out the front door of her two story home and down the cracked steps to the concrete pathway. The steel gate hasn't been locked yet, so she's able to run right through it. Her mother is calling after her, and she can hear the footsteps of her father trying to chase after her. But, Eleanor knows that she's faster than him, especially when he's still in his dress shoes and she's in her sneakers.

Eleanor keeps running until she can no longer breathe or recognize her surroundings. She isn't sure how far she made it, but she knows that she can't hear her father's footsteps behind her any longer. She stops to lean against a wooden fence, taking slow and deliberate breaths to calm her heart rate. Of all nights for this to happen, it has to be Christmas Eve. The tears begin to pour over uncontrollably. She falls back against the fence until she's sitting down and hugging her knees to her chest. If she goes home she knows that they will likely never let her out of their sights again. She will just be a prisoner in her own home. Is that better than trying to stay out here, where she has nothing and no one?

Well, she does have someone.

"Gabriel." Eleanor shuts her eyes. She can feel the spot where her father hit her beginning to swell and throb with pain. "Save me."

"You rang?" When she opens her eyes he's there again, without any kind of hesitation. In the streetlight she can see his wings a lot better, they almost seem to shine like the sun.

"I can't go home."

"Sure you can." He shrugs his shoulders. But, then he takes in their surroundings, and then notices the red mark on her cheek. "What happened?"

"I can't go home."

"Yeah, kiddo, I heard you the first time. What happened? Who hit you?" He kneels down in front of her, placing his hand gently on her cheek. In just a split second the throbbing pain is gone, replaced by the soothing coolness of his palm.

"Dad."

"Dad? That bastard hit you? For what?"

"I got a B." It's like the words are flooding out of her mouth. She has to tell him about it, she has to get it off of her chest otherwise it's going to consume her. He listens to her, she knows it, and he can fix it. He can fix everything.

"You got a B, and he hit you?" He laughs humorlessly. "This is just rich." Eleanor doesn't think it's amusing at all, which makes him stop. "Alright. Alright, okay, listen kiddo - do you still think they're A+ parents? Do you still think that they love you unconditionally after that shit? Do you still think they don't deserve to suffer?"

"I don't want them to suffer."

"Then what do you want?"

"I want to leave." Eleanor finally meets his honey brown eyes, a stream of tears steadily falling from her eyes. "I never want to see them again. I want you to take me away, please." She feels ten years younger while asking this, like a very young child asking their parent not to leave them at school.

He can't leave her here.

He would never leave her.

"That's what you really want, kiddo?" She nods her head. "Alright, fine. Why don't you shack up with me a while and see how you like it? You gotta do everything I say though, I can't have you wandering around and getting yourself hurt. That would be on me, and I don't need anything else on my conscience. Come on, grab my hand." Gabriel extends his hand outwards for her to take, offering her an entirely new life. She can hear her father calling out her name in the distance, followed by her mother. They're getting closer.

She grabs his hand.

A/N

I got bored. I wrote this, and I like it. It shall be continued from here. Thank you.