Page 140 of Wings of Lies
My head ripped to the side as my father smacked me, causing me to miss the male’s words.
“I told you I would not repeat myself!”
Tears stung my eyes, and the seed grew further. My anger made my skin itch more severely, and a crackling noise started.
He will regret that.The angry voice matched the pulsing rage in my blood.
Slowly returning my gaze to the gray eyes of my nightmares, I glared. “You can’t blame me for your sins.”
I shouldn’t have said that. My father was pure, an angel of renown who did no evil and brought justice to the worlds. Sin was reserved for the weaker, the lesser, for demons. Never him. Or so I wastold. I knew saying the word would tip him over the edge, but I was so angry I wanted him to suffer. To prove him wrong.
The hand came faster and harder than last, sending my head into the floorboards. Dots pixelated my vision, only to disperse to a hand filled with white flame. My mind dropped to even colder temperatures, making my body shiver.
Touch him. Now.A cold fury seeped out of each syllable. The stranger’s rage was a welcome companion, watching and wanting what I did.
Revenge.
So, when he told me to touch my father, I grabbed ahold of his glaring white leather shoes andscreamed.
I screamed for all the words he spoke to me about how worthless I was, how I was a mistake he never wanted. I screamed for each bruise I received from his hands, for each puckered scar on my back. I screamed for all the mistreatment my loving mom received. And I screamed from the pain.
The freezing temperatures in my mind were a different kind of agony. One I wasn’t in control of. The penetrating cold had to come from the stranger, but as much as I wanted it to stop, I suffered through it for the satisfaction of what came next.
Snapping my hands back, I glanced up to see an expression I’d never witnessed. My father’s gray eyes widened in shock, completely encased in ice.
It’s temporary. It won’t hold him for long. You need to leave.The chill in my mind no longer hurt. Instead, it was a soft snowstorm that raised goosebumps on my flesh.
I can’t go—my mom.I thought, scrambling on my hands and knees around my father’s frozen figure.
Then hurry,he said with no bite to his words, only urgency.
I placed my hands on my mom’s shoulder and shook her gently. “Mom. Mom. Wake up!” My head swiveled back to the frozen statue, noticing a white light shining through.No, no, no.
Hurry!he yelled.
“Mom!” We were running out of time. The ice dripped down into a puddle. We couldn’t be here when he freed himself. If he smacked me only because of words, I couldn’t imagine what would happen after my attack.
My hands shook harder, rolling her limp body across the hardwood like a rolling pin. “Mom!” I begged.
Leave her. She’ll survive,he said. But I could hear the grains of regret putting doubt in my mind.
I felt stabbing icicles and gasped. “What are you doing?” I said.
Leave her!The sliver of regret I heard earlier vanished. It reminded me of my father and how he spoke, expecting everyone to hang from his every word and do anything he asked.
I ground my teeth together.I won’t leave her.
The stranger didn’t understand. My mom was all I had. She held me when my first dog ran away, calmed my nerves on my first day of school with humans, listened to every story I came home with, wearing a smile on her face, and guided and soothed me when bullies tried to mock my strange eyes. She read to me every night, and on special nights, we had hot chocolate. She was my teacher, my rock, and the kindest person I’d ever met, except when she taught me hand-to-hand fighting, which I sucked at. But my mom was always there, calming my emotions and Glory with her soft touches. I would never leave her because she never left me.
The gnashing of teeth echoed through my thoughts.How old are you?
Eleven.Today, I turned Eleven and hated every second of it.
He said a harsh word I couldn’t understand.Fine. We do this the hard way.He paused, thinking.Grab the heaviest pot on your table and smash it into the back of that despicable angel’s head the moment the ice melts.
I started at his words.What?
There is no room for questioning. You have already made your bed. It’s time to grow up and lie in it. Now, make that angel bleed.
