Flames licked at the previously pristine walls, turning the spotless white paint into an ugly black. Every way I turned, I was met with dead ends. There was no way out. We were doomed.

"We're not going to make it."

"We can do it, Max, it's a little further," I insisted.

"Fang.." Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

"Come on, Max. Don't give up on me."

"I don't think I can.."

"Don't be stupid, we'll do it. We're the lat one, Max. The only ones. We have to get out of here." I desperately ran down each and every corridor, up what seemed like hundreds of flights of stair, searching for a way out. Max was close behind me, managing to keep up though I knew her strength was at an all time low, the light in her eyes all but extinguished. Ever since the others had died, she hadn't been the same, and weeks of torture at the hands of the merciless Whitecoats which occupied the Second School, deprived of food, had only worsened her condition, and as the days had passed, I saw her deteriorating even more. What made it even worse was that I was powerless to help her. I had promised to protect her, to make sure no harm came to her, and I had failed her.

Finally, we reached the top floor of the Second School, and I grabbed whatever I could - chairs, fire extinguishers - and hurled it at the already crumbling ceiling, trying to make a hole big enough for us to take off through, whilst Max watched on. Eventually, I succeeded, and I punched the air in triumph.

"Yes!"

"I knew you could do it, Fang. I knew you'd get us out of here."

Wings outstretched, I blasted my way through the ceiling, not slowing down until the anxiety had dissipated.

"We made it!" I exclaimed incredulously. "Max, we did it!" I swivelled round abruptly to look at Max, but was met with only the sight of an empty grey sky. "Max?" I called, frowning. And then I saw it. Below me, the Second School was a blazing inferno, wisps of smoke rising up from the building, tendrils of fire choking and suffocating the dull exterior. And in the midst of it all lay Max, my beloved angel, trapped in the murky depths of hell.

***

I woke up with a jolt, an invisible hand pulling me from the nightmare of dreams and painful memories. My forehead was covered with beads of sweats, my palms cold and clammy. It was always the same every single day - there was always that guilt for being the only one to make it out alive that lingered in the back of mind, a sort of niggling feeling, a voice which kept asking: what if? Maybe, if I had just done one tiny little thing, my flock would still be with me today. Still half asleep, I made my way to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. The refreshing sensation instantly made me feel more alert.

The tempting smell of frying bacon drifted up from the kitchen, but I had long since lost all appetite. And anyway, I wasn't about to eat anything he'd cooked anytime soon. I took as long as I could washing myself, and then half heartedly sloped down the stairs. When I'd first started living here, I hadn't bothered coming down at all, preferring my own company, but then he'd started coming into my room to see why I wasn't up yet, and I didn't like him invading my privacy. My room was the only place I could truly call my own, and I didn't want it contaminated by his presence.

As usual, he was down there. He was always awake long before I was, even though he carried on working until past midnight. He is the person I hate most in the word, the last person I'd ever willingly choose to live with. He is the one who destroyed my life, and I will never forgive him. Jeb Batchelder, the father of the only girl I've ever loved.

Ignoring the plates of steaming hot food laid out on the table for me, I reached into the cupboard and pulled out a box of cereal, grabbing it straight from the packet and stuffing it into my mouth. It tasted like sawdust, but I didn't care.

"You look tired," Jeb said, his voice full of fake concern. It was a statement, one which required no interaction on my behalf. I'd made a habit of talking to Jeb as little as possible, only speaking when he asked me a direct question. "Have you been sleeping okay? I could get you a prescript-"

"No drugs," I interrupted firmly. I'd had enough of injections and Whitecoats to last me a lifetime.

"But you're not well," he protested, but he didn't press the matter any further. He knew it would be pointless to start an argument - once my mind was made up, I didn't change it. We sat - well, he sat, and I leant against the oven - there for a while, neither of us saying anything. It suited me just fine.

"I thought- perhaps you should go out today," suggested Jeb timidly. "The fresh air will do you good." He was gabbling now, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, pausing to adjust his glasses every so often. (Author's note: does Jeb wear glasses? I forget. But who cares? - he does now.) "Maybe you could either think about applying for a job-"

"Yeah, 'cos I bet there's loads of people looking for a winged freak," I muttered darkly. Jeb sighed, the way he always did when he was frustrated. He never rose his voice, or shouted at me, and that just irritated me even more. Then he leant forward, his eyes serious.

"I mean it, Fang. You can't just spend the rest of your life cooped up in here. Max wouldn't have wanted you to. You have to at least try to move on with your life."

"I don't have to do anything," I snarled. "And don't you dare mention Max's name. She has nothing to do with you." Like I said before, I'd never willingly choose to live with Jeb in a million years. It was purely because of Max that I was here.

"Fang." My ears pricked up, the way they always did whenever I heard her voice, and I sat up, alert. I hadn't realised she was awake, but now I did, I immediately shifted myself until I was staring straight at her, giving her my full attention. "You should get some rest," she said, placing a hand on my arm.

"I'm not tired," I insisted, even though I hadn't slept for days and there were dark rings under my eyes.

"You're lying," she accused, sighing and retracting her hand.

"What do you want me to say, Max?" I snapped, regretting shouting at her as soon as the words left my mouth. "I miss them," I whispered sadly, my voice barely audible.

"I know," said Max, wrapping her arms around me. "I do too." She nestled her head in my chest and I burrowed my nose in her hair, silent tears slowly cascading down my cheeks.

"Fang," she murmured. "I want you to promise me something."

"You know I'd promise you anything," I said. "All you have to do is ask."

"If anything happens to me…"

"It won't. I'm going to look after you, Max. I promised your mother, when she di-" I stop talking mid-sentence.

"I know, I know. But if something does - you've seen what we're up against - I want you to promise… I want you to promise you'll go back to Jeb."

"What?!"

"I want you t stay with Jeb."

"But Max, he ruined our lives!"

"I know, but he's changed, Fang. He's different. It's the best place for you - he can look after you."

"I will never go back to him, Max. You know that."

"Fang, you promised!" she said, her voice indignant.. I sighed.

"I promise," I said, hugging her tighter.

I had already broken one promise - to her mother - and I was not going to break a second, no matter how much I despised my new living arrangements. As soon as Jeb had left for work, I retreated back to the tranquillity of my room. After making sure that I was alone, and that Jeb had not simply pretended to go to work, as he had before, I delved my hand underneath my pillow and pulled out a tan coloured feather. It was all I had left of the days which seemed like a lifetime ago. I'd been so lucky then, so happy, but now that world had been tore to shreds and I could no longer return. I gently stroked the feather, rubbing it against the side of my face. It still smelt of her, but I knew that in time, that would fade, and I would be left with nothing but memories of blurred faces which would grow more distorted and hazier each day. "I miss you," I whispered sadly.

***

When Jeb had accused me of staying cooped up all the time, he couldn't have been more wrong. In fact, I left the house almost every night - not that he, nor anyone else, for that matter, knew. It seemed pointless to stay in my room to endure another restless night spent tossing and turning. The only thing which had ever come close to the experience of flying was being with Max, and now that she had gone, whenever I flew, I remembered the time I'd spent with the flock, and could almost imagine her presence beside me. I felt free when I was airborne, alive.

I never ventured out during the day, preferring the cover of night to keep me hidden from others. Being in the company of strangers always made me feel uneasy, like there was some approaching danger and everyone else was in a on a secret that only I did not know. But few people were still outside by the time sky had turned dark, and if I avoided all the nightclubs and areas where numerous pubs were scattered about, then I was lucky - or rather, unlucky - to see anyone at all. Ad if I did, it didn't matter, because they rarely looked upwards, and with their poor normal human eyesight, the most they'd see is a black shadow barely visible against the midnight sky, and by the time it registered that I was far too big and the wrong shape to be something ordinary like a bird or plane, I was already gone.

"Get off me." Those three words barely registered, but I quickly dropped down onto the roof of a dilapidated block of flats so that no one would see me. I figured it would probably be some plastered blonde with orange skin who had had too much to drink. "I said NO!" For some strange reason, something stirred inside me and I felt compelled to take a sneaky glance at what was going on underneath me. I swiftly and soundlessly dropped from the roof in one fluid movement, and then, making sure I was in a comfortable position, stood still until I blended in the shadows and basically disappeared, like a chameleon. A young girl a few years younger than me had been pinned against the wall by a tall muscular boy, who I guessed was one of those popular guys at school, the type who made it onto all the sports teams and hung around with blonde cheerleaders with short skirts. His hair was chocolate brown, with expensive looking highlights, and everything about him was perfect: his eyes were just about the right distance apart, his jaw as angular, his lips thin. Just the type I loathed whenever I saw them.

The girl wasn't exactly pretty or stunning, but she had that sort of homely quality which made her seem warm and friendly. And she had the most amazing hair. Thick glossy curls grew way past her shoulders, bright red like the coat of a fox cunning and lithe. I could tell from the forceful way the guy the held her, the way the girl struggled helplessly, like a butterfly caught in a net, the way her blue eyes were filled with fear that she was in trouble, unless someone else stepped in. Okay, so it wasn't the brightest idea I'd ever had, but it was Max would've done - helped someone who was in trouble, like she'd done with her half sister years ago - and anyway, for some starnge reason completely unknown to me, I wanted to help.

"Hey," I called, emerging from the shadows. I had taken off my black hoodie, exposing my raven black wings. It was the first time I'd shown them to a complete stranger for years. I just hoped he wasn't going to suddenly turn into an Eraser and this whole thing had been a set up. "God doesn't like you."

"What the-" The boy swivelled round to look at me, perplexed. He narrowed his eyes, half expecting a TV crew to come out, saying it was all some kind of prank played on him and he was going to be the star of a brand new show that they aired on those corny game show channels. I held his gaze, my eyes unblinking. "God doesn't like you," I repeated. "This was all a test." The girl had taken this time to break free, and now she stood beside the boy, head held high, all previous traces of fear gone. Let me tell you, she seemed to be handling the whole wings thing remarkably well, and part of me even wondered whether she was some Whitecoat from the School in disguise. (Crazy, I know, but then again, scientists from the School aren't exactly well known for their saneness.)

"Looks like you just failed," the girl said defiantly, playing along, and then she punched him in the face, causing a scarlet fountain to erupt from his nose, taking even me by surprise. I watched for a while as the two teenagers fought, my intervention no longer needed. She was a good fighter, for a girl, and I found myself wondering who would win in a fight against her and Max. There was something oddly entrancing, even poetic, in the way she moved, nimble and graceful, almost as if she were dancing. I could tell the boy had had no chance, and just as he started scuttling away, I began to take off, before anyone could interrogate me.

"Wait!" the girl cried out. I ignored her and continued flying. "You can't just leave!"

"Why? Were you planning on inviting the weird mutant freak back for tea?" I muttered sourly, not even bothering to look back.

"Not weird," she breathed. "Beautiful."

"What did you just say?" I asked, swivelling round and landing sharply. It wasn't every day I got complimented by some random stranger.

"I said your wings… Never mind."

"In that case, just thank me, and I'll be off."

"Thank you?" the girl exclaimed incredulously.

"For rescuing you," I reminded gently.

"I didn't need rescuing! I was fine by myself."

"Suit yourself," I said, preparing to take off again. This time, I wasn't interrupted.

I settled on top of the block of flats again, and watched as the girl stood there for a few moments, dumb founded, and then she pulled herself together and began to walk, presumably making her way home. When I was sure she had gone, I swooped back down again, narrowly avoiding a knocked over dustbin that lay abandoned on the sidewalk, rubbish spilling out of it. As I did so, I noticed a flash of gold amongst the dull grey cobblestones. Intrigued, I picked it up, and found it was a bracelet: about half a dozen charms hanging on a delicate chain. The girl's? And for some strange reason - there must have been something in the air that night - I started to glide above buildings and trees until I had caught up with the girl. But did I stop there? No. My curiosity got the better of me and I decided to follow her all the way home. And even then, I didn't just give her her bracelet back like a normal person would. Because I knew that would mean never seeing her again.

***

"Someone looks happy today," remarked Jeb when I eventually came downstairs the following morning. I tried to work out what is his words were laced with. Gladness? Suspicion? Wariness? But for once, I didn't care what Jeb thought. Not even he could spoil my good mood today. For once, I'd slept soundly through the night, untroubled by bad dreams and painful memories. Whether the fact I was no longer dwelling on the past in my sleep was a good thing, I was not sure. I was feeling so good, in fact, that I even possessed the desire to eat, something which I had not had since I had lost the only family I had ever known. I wolfed the bacon and eggs that Jeb always prepared hungrily - though of course, I waited until he was gone - and found my taste buds had started working again. They tasted good. I managed to get through at least three packets before my hunger had been quelled.

The rest of the day passed without event as I waited eagerly for night to arrive, all the time resisting the urge to drop by sooner. At last, the time came, after what seemed like a lifetime. I crept downstairs and made sure Jeb was fully preoccupied with his work, and then slipped out, relishing my freedom. I retraced my steps from last night until I came to the perfectly ordinary house. I landed behind a tall oak tree, and then hesitated, wondering if I'd gone wrong somewhere, and some stranger was going to get the shock of their life. Eventually, I summoned up the courage to edge closer. I wouldn't ring the bell - her mom would never let me in, especially at this time. Instead, I flew up to one of the windows, peered in, and then gently pushed against it. Damn. It was locked. I don't know how long I hovered there, feeling slightly foolish, until the girl finally appeared. She was dressed in a turquoise satin dressing gown and her skin looked rosy and glowing, like she'd just stepped out the bath. I tapped on the window loud enough for her to hear, but quiet enough so no one else would. As she caught sight of me, her eyes widened in shock and she even briefly scanned he surroundings, contemplating whether she should find some kind of weapon.

"Surprise," I said dryly.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she hissed. "Are you crazy or something?"

"No," I replied. "Just a little cuckoo." Ugh. Now I was making lame jokes? What was up with me? The only time I've ever done that was when I was with…

"I don't know. My mom told me to never let strangers into the house. I don't even know your name."

"It's Fang."

"Louisa," she introduced, fiddling with the catch on the window to let me in. I snorted at the ordinariness, the plainness of her name as I carefully clambered in.

"He your boyfriend?"

"What?"

"That guy who attacked you."

"Something like that."

"This the first time you've ever had a boy in your room."

"That would be telling," "What's with all the questions anyway? And what are you doing here?"

"You left this in the alleyway last night," I explained, tossing the bracelet onto the bed, where she caught it with one hand.

"My dad gave it to me, " she said absent-mindedly. There was a faraway look in her eyes, like she'd forgotten I was still there. "He left it to me in his will.. How did you know where to find me?" she asked, snapping out of her trance.

"I might of… followed you when you went home."

"Followed? Or stalked?" Louisa interrogated accusingly, one eyebrow raised.

"That would be telling," I shot back. I had intended it to sound casual and witty, but I couldn't stop a stupid grin creeping across my face. All the time, Louisa had acted cool and collected, like it was perfectly normal to have a bird kid in your bedroom at night. "Why do you do that?" I asked.

"Do what?"

"You act as if… as if I'm normal."

"And aren't you?" she asked, not making eye contact. She fiddled with her duvet as she spoke, rubbing the soft material with he fingers.

"I have wings!"

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Louisa said sarcastically. Then she sighed, and deemed it reasonable to give me a proper answer. "I guess it just doesn't make a difference to me what people look like. Some people are black, some people are white. Some people have curly hair, some people have straight. And some people don't have wings, and some people… do, apparently. I guess it's probably because I've always felt like an outsider, never properly accepted in the dumb popularity system at school. I've never fitted in. I guess it's just a kind of consolation that I'm not the only social misfit."

"Thanks," I said. "I should probably go now…" I trailed off, preparing to make my way out.

"Wait!" Louisa called out, rushing over to the window. "Thanks for what you did last night. I really appreciate it."

"No problem," I said, ducking back out in the crisp night air.

"Wait!" Louisa pulled me back a second time.

"Is this going to be a habit with you?" I asked, and then before I knew it, Louisa's lips forced themselves against mine, and she wrapped her arms tightly around my neck. At first, I struggled, but I soon relaxed, my wings encapsulating us in our private cocoon. The kiss lasted for a few wonderful minutes, until Louisa suddenly broke out of our embrace, staggering slightly as she stepped backwards.

"Sorry," she apologised, her cheeks flushing.

"Don't be," I said, before pulling her back for a second kiss.