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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1986673-angels-safe-not-done
Rated: E · Other · Gay/Lesbian · #1986673
Angel, a boy with wings escapes captivity in an abusive home, read on to see what happens.
I look at the wall as the door to my room opens slightly, just enough to push a bowl of cold soup through then slam shut again. The shackles on my ankles rattle as i go to retrieve it. Im usually not allowed much and covet what little I get.  When i take a sip from the bowl i gag but force myself to swallow the bitter liquid, wincing at the feel of spices burning their way down my already sensitive throat. My throat and mouth had been burned badly yesterday when my mother had forced me to choke down a glass of lemon juice and vinegar. I feel a spark of pain as i twist around, my wounds smarting. I pull on the chain keeping my tied to the wall and study the work i've accomplished so far with a piece of broken off concrete. It had been slow, mind numbing work but after several days of smashing the weakest link it looked ready to break. I gasp as i stretch my wings up as far and out as i can in the closet- like room, clipped feathers brushing against the walls. Knowing no one will look in on me again till at least tomorrow i yank on the chain again, putting my weight behind it and gasp when i fall back as the chain breaks. I stare at the broken chain in my hands, my eyes wide as loud foot-steps pound their way down the hall and stop outside my door. The door opens.



When i see my big brother i drop the chain and scurry as far into the corner as possible away from him. He sneers at me and walks forward, grabbing me around the throat and dragging me from the small room into the light, burning my eyes. I claw at his hand, trying to get air into my lung. He throws me on the floor and laughs, this was his favorite game. To see me and Wren try to escape right before he beats us or rapes me in front of her. I whimper as he stares at the broken chain, a look of triumph on his face as he yells for mother, knowing that she would choose the punishment this time. When she walks up behind him he smirks, whispering in her ear and pointing at me.  She glances at me, then the chain before nodding and whispering something back. I shiver at the malice in their eyes and draw in on myself as i struggle to hear, only catching the tail end of the sentence as my little sister joins me on the floor.

" ...Crush their wings then cut them off." I stare at them in horror and look behind me at Wren, her pale face telling me she'd heard too.



I whimper when he reaches for me and Wren, dragging us into the yard and, once inside, throwing us into the wall of the small concrete shed. As i try to catch my breath he lock a shackle around my wrist and a collar around my throat before anchoring both to a metal table covered with my dried blood from almost a week ago. I look over at my sister and gasp when i see the long gash along her forehead  and the shallow breathing. Reaching through our bond i can tell that she's faking being unconcious and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. relaxing slightly i realize my mistake when a hammer crashes into my wing, breaking the bones as it crushes my feathers with another six or seven beats. Then he begins on the other wing. By the time he's finished im in tears and screaming and begging for him to stop. When he puts the blade of a saw against the joint closest to my back i buck, straining against the cuffs. as he begins the first cut my sister jumps across the table and stabs him in the neck with a scalpel she'd stolen from the wall. He tries to scream but she clamps a hand over his mouth and stabs him again in the eye, straight in the brain. With blood coating her hands she pulls me off the table, hushing my whimpers as pain jolts through me with every step we take. Almost an hour later we stop in an alley way dimly illuminated by sunlight. then someone steps around the corner, and looks at us.



I hear a shout as the person runs towards us and I whimper as we try to back away, my wings dragging on the ground. When he sees our fear he pauses and drops to his haunches, surprising us when wings unfold from his back, blocking out the light and sound of people shouting and taking pictures. He reaches for us and Wren hesitantly takes what's in his hands and pulls back, showing it to me. i peer at it cautiously and and my eyes widen when i realize it's food. snatching it out of her hand I snap it in half and give part of it to her, smiling when she stuffs the entire thing in her mouth and almost chokes. I carefully bite off a corner and my eyes widen at the rich, dark taste as it slides across my tongue and melts. I close my eyes, moaning, as I devour the rest. I yelp, drawing in on myself when i feel a gentle hand glide across my feathers, barely touching my wing but still hurting. My sister glares at him, hissing in warning before pulling me to her. He stares at my wings, at the blood, crooked angles, and broken silver feathers and seems to come to a decision. Reaching behind him he pulls out a small cell phone and presses a dial before holding it to his ear and speaking in a low tone so I can only discern a few words.



" Two of them... one's hurt bad... crushed wings... afraid...sedative...small, probably doves....starved too... weak... hurry?...Thanks." I watch him as he puts it back in his pocket and holds out another piece of food towards us that we quickly inhale. He smiles and Wren reaches out hesitantly to stroke his wing, drawing back in surprise when we catch sight of the uncut tips of his feathers. We'd only ever seen each others wing tips and they'd always been clipped and dirty. I stare behind him as a van grinds to a halt outside the alleyway several minutes later. When two men climb out of the back and another from the front I glare at the man, realizing what he did. He frowns and turns to look at the three guys who stood behind him, standing with his wings still shielding us from light. After about a minute he looks down at us from over his shoulder, studying me for a minute, taking in the blood, bruises, and labored way Im breathing. He turns towards us, slowly edging closer by a few steps then bending down.



" Sweety, will you let one of them take you to the car? I promise they won't hurt you, we just have to look at how badly you're hurt. Can we do that?" I look over his shoulder at the men, my gaze landing on one that looked younger then the others, almost my age. i stare at him for a few seconds and nod my head, pointing at him. The man smiles and motions the youngest forward as I reach my arms up, the muscles screaming in pain and making me whimper quietly. He picks me up slowly and cradles me against his chest, wrapping wings around me to keep me from being hurt by the wind or light.



" What's your name?" I jump when he whispers in my ear, startling me. I pull back from him slightly and reach over my shoulder, tapping my wings lightly then pointing at myself. He gives me a confused look and I sigh before seeing the small silver cross on his neck. I didn't know much but I knew that it was related to angels. I grab it and point at it then my wing then me several times before understanding dawns on him. "Angel? Your names Angel." I nod and he smiles at me.



" Okay, Angel, we're going to give you a shot to make you sleep and hurt less. Alright?" I feel a sharp prick against my neck and jerk away as heat floods me and the strength drains from my limbs, making me groan. I whimper as im laid on my stomach on a gurney, my wings held gingerly to keep them from being jostled as the car starts up and bounces down the road.
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