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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1294142-Love
by Avian
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Death · #1294142
When he becomes unhuman his love kills him
          He opened his eyes looking at the wall his bed was up against. He was on his side wrapped in his goose feather comforter. The television was on in the far corner of his room. The flashing images gave the room the colors of an old black and white movie. He could hear the T.V but didn't care to listen. With a sigh he closed his eyes again and instantly his mind flooded him with images of Her. A sharp pain now pierced his hear with each image. He curled up into a ball and place his hand over his heart in a futile attempt to ease the pain. His teeth were clenched tightly and he grunted in pain. Suddenly a new pain occurred a strip of searing cold along his shoulder blades. It felt as if the skin was tearing. This was a dream, it had to be... suddenly in a single second his shoulder blades pulled away and let out something new. Wings. Feathered, like an Angel. He rolled out of bed and stood, the comforter fell at his feet revealing the basketball shorts he wore to bed. He felt only half awake as if this really were a dream. He opened his bedroom window and jumped out. The wind picked him up and carried him along. He flew up into the sky a flew not aware of where he was or where he was going. Soon enough he found himself outside her house. He landed on a branch of the tree outside her window and saw her typing on her computer. He smiled at the sight of her, fully awake now. She looked up and spotted him. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him and she backed away from the window. After a moment she approached the window an opened it.
          "So it really is you,' she said with a sigh of relief, "come in, its cold and you must be freezing in those shorts."
          He smiled and flew to the window and pulled himself through.
          "A-are they real?" She asked in shock looking at his wings.
          He nodded and extended one for her to feel. She did and slowly traced it to his back with her soft and gentle touch. "They are real... hey I'll be right back, don't leave!" She quickly ran out of the room and he stood waiting for her to return. He turned and looked at the computer screen.
          She was on myspace sending a message. To him. He read it. It was a confessional of sorts, it was telling him of her feelings for him.
          His ears picked up the sound of a gun being cocked. He turned and saw her standing in the doorway. Her head was lowered and her hair covered her face. "I'm sorry..." She whispered and a lone tear hit the floor. She looked up at him and raised a pistol and aimed it at him. She pulled the trigger and with a loud 'boom' it was the end.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1294142-Love