I've been dropped off in New York City, on top of an unfinished apartment building. The whole "armored truck" idea was a total flop, so I am supposed to stay here untill I see the flock. I shiver. The whitecoats gave me some ratty hiking gear, but it does nothing to shield me from the bitter wind. I glance down at central park, and I see someone climbing swiftly up a tree. "Isn't that illegal?" Might as well check it out.

I jump off the back and unfurl my wings quickly. They are a deep, raven black, like my hair. For those of you who want to track down a mutant freak, I might as well describe my self. I have shoulder length raven-black hair, pale skin, sea green eyes, and freckles all over my nose and cheeks.

I swiftly lean right and left, drifting down to land gracefully on the asphalt of an empty parking lot. Might as well try here. There are two loud buzzing hums echoing throughout my mind. One is the normal hum of a big city. The other is a buzz of thoughts.

Normally, I just tone this out, but I need it right now, so I turn in the direction of Central Park. Suddenly, I am there, weaving through people. I race over to a tree and look up. There is a small little girl, who looks about my age. She has curly blonde hair, and the same ratty, unclean appearance as her five companions. Angel. She hugs a small, white stuffed bear in a fairy costume. "I love you Celeste! Good night."

I am quickly rushed back to my spot on the asphalt. "I need to find them." I memorize the path and start running. I'm almost there when I accidentally bump into a tall, menacing teenager. He sticks his arm out to stop me. "Hey squirt, watch it!" He growls.

"Sorry." I step around his arm and try to continue, but his buddies step in front of me.

"Sorry don't cut it kid. We gotta teach you a lesson." The teen is behind me. Before I can react, he slams into my back and I rocket onto the concrete. It scrapes my legs, face and arms as I cry out. I spit out a curse and kick my legs back. He lets out a small "Oof!" and lands on his butt. I push my self up and make a break for a tree, but someone lashes out and knocks my feet out from under me, momentarily knocking the breath out of me.

The guy and his goons surround me, kicking and punching. I finally let out a wail of pain. "This is almost as bad as the whitecoats." I close my eyes and resist the urge to cry. Looking up, I can see the eyes of one of the goons. He seems... almost sorry.

Suddenly, I see the goon again, but he is kneeling by his mother's bed. He promises to get her medicine for the poison the gang gave her. Just one more month.

The memory ends abruptly. I hear one thought loudly echoing, bringing out of the memory. "Who are they? What the-" That's when an image of Angel punching a goon in the gut appears. Oh.

I black out after a final kick to my temple.