Chapter one
The air was clearly becoming colder as the summer, with its warm nights and sunny days, started to leave. Autumn was warmly welcomed by Frank. It was his favourite season, by far. Rain, hoodies and lower temperatures didn't bother him at all. In fact, excitement was already bubbling over inside his tiny body. Autumn was awesome, especially Halloween, Frank recalled from his time back on earth, big parties with costumes, music and friends. Oh, how he missed those times. But he traded them in for a pair of wings and a life as an angel.
Sometimes Frank's mind was a funny little place, but other times, a not so funny place to be. And this day was definitely going to be influenced by that. One second he was flying high in the sky with friends, flirting a bit with girls, the other he was crying alone. He was missing his old life and regretting his trade. Sure, Heaven was a lot like Earth, but filled with angels instead of humans. And there weren't any crimes or murders. Though, on bad days, Frank was pretty close to changing that. Most angels were beautiful, no way of denying that. But every time Frank looked in a mirror, beauty wasn't what he saw. He saw flaws, and too often he saw swelled up eyes. Frank often got upset over small things and ended up crying about everything that had ever gone wrong. But there was one thing he could always smile about, whenever he looked at himself in a mirror. Even here he was different. His wings were different from everyone else's, which were all a snowy white. But Frank, he had a white wing, white as new winter snow, and a black one, dark like a night sky without stars.
…..
"I don't think I'll ever get over how cool it is to actually fly" Frank said, grinning at his best friend, Bob. Bob just laughed at his remark, totally used to his wings and the feeling of wind underneath them. "I want your punk-wing though" said Bob while gently poking the black wing. "It's my wing." Frank playfully pouted, wrapping the raven black wing around him. He heard Bob snort, before he felt a light tap on his wing. "Tag, you're it" Bob exclaimed before flying away. The shorter boy just shook his head before flying after his childish friend, trying to reach him. Who knew tag was so much funnier when you didn't touch the ground?
Few minutes later they were sitting down, catching their breath. "You really need to work out more Frank, you're already out of breath, and you're so slow." Bob laughed. Frank muttered a 'shut up' before laughing along. After countless discussions and dumb conversations a heavy silence appeared. None of them spoke a word, and Frank noticed how slow the clock was ticking away the seconds. "Sloooow!" Bobs taunting voice broke the silence. "Bob, I swear, call me that one more time and I'll fucking kill you." Frank laughed. Bob pulled the most fake scared look he could manage, while gasping. "You wouldn't! You'd fall!" Bob answered laughter in his tone. Franks expression changed into a serious one. "Yeah, about that, I'm considering it." Frank said, dead serious. "No, no you don't mean that! Frank listen to me, you are not going to fall!" Bob shouted. "But it's getting so repetitive. Back on Earth things could go wrong, it's dangerous down there." Frank explained, not to much use as Bob cut him off. "Exactly, I don't wanna lose one of my best fucking friends because of a stupid idea to /fall/" Bob raised his voice on the last syllable. Frank shook his head. "I know, but I just regret becoming an angel so often. Am I seriously the only one?"
"No, I have that too, but in the end I know it was worth it." Bob explained. Frank stuck out his hands as if to say 'See?'
"That's exactly my problem, I /don't/ think it was worth it most of the time. I just want to go back to Earth." Frank whined and sat down, stretching his wings.
"You know what happens when you fall, don't you?" Bob asked. Frank thought for a second. He had been up here for a long time. He could vaguely recall the process of falling but he wasn't really listening when it was explained to him.
"I don't know anymore. I know you lose your wings and, like, feel like dying for the first week or two. That's all I remember." Frank shrugged. How hard could it be? Frank got sick all the time when he was human.
Bob face palmed. "It's not that easy. Didn't you say you used to get sick really often? That pretty much doubles. Angels have died because they didn't have a fucking immune system. I don't want to lose you because you get some weird flu and die." He bluntly said. "And," Frank quietly sighed. He didn't care all too much. "Sush, pay attention" Bob hissed. "Your wings don't disappear; they get ripped off your back." He said just as he plucked a pearly white feather from Frank's wing. Frank yelped and swatted Bob's hand away.
"The fuck, man?" He said, brows furrowed. Bob poked his wing. "That was just one little feather." He looked at the primary feather he held in his hand. It was a tiny bit longer than his index finger. Frank glared at him.
"Okay, maybe not a little one. But seriously, you know you need to get someone crazy enough to love you even if it meant going to hell with you, right? How the fuck would you do that?" Bob rambled. "I don't know" Frank muttered, and got lost in his thoughts.