AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Shit. Iwasgrateful though, wasn’t I? Fuck.
A stack of school newsletters, theSCU Weekly Observer, sits beside the door. Last year these came out once a week, beginning on the second Monday of the school year, so they must have typed up a special edition for today. From the front-page headline, it’s clear why.New Student Has First Ever Gray Wings.
Reaching down, I pull one from the top bundle and head up to the eighth floor, taking the stairs two at a time. Once inside my room, I perch on the chair in the corner and read the article.
New Student Has First Ever Gray Wings.
By Harold the Herald
It’s the first day of a new term here at Silver City University, and we’ve already got a scandal. A freshman scholarship student showed up late to class this morning before proceeding to shock her classmates and professor by revealing her abnormalities. One student, Kristiel Pirie, even said she flaunted it. “It was obviously an attention grab. Why else would she strut up to the teacher, interrupt him, and let her dirty-looking wings free? I, for one, won’t be giving her any.”
Rumors spread throughout campus detailing other oddities witnessed, and even a few bone-chilling sights. Megan Waters, another first-year student, recounted a disturbing scene for this article. “I saw her horns in the bathroom. One second they were there, and then POOF. She’d forced them back into her skull. When our eyes met in the mirror, I could have sworn she licked her lips with a tongue that was three times the size of ours. A demon tongue, I’m sure of it.”
Finally, we spoke with SCU’s most promising student, Seraphina Beckett, to find out what she thought of the surprising start of term. “I’m hesitant to even say this, Harold, but I question the school’s judgment. Letting an unknown creature onto school grounds is dangerous for the other students, especially with so many distressing accounts from my fellow classmates. We need to protect the next generation of angels. If it were up to me, she would face immediate expulsion.”
So who is she, you might ask? The name of the strange new student is Hayliel Gracelin. Stay tuned for more about this mysterious development in our next column.
This is horseshit.
I crumple up the paper in my fist, all the while stewing over its contents and my own reactions. Even though she proved herself to be more like my ex than I ever would have thought, and despite the fact that it fucking hurts to be thrown aside, it doesn’t make what they’re doing right.
The world already treats us Fallen as lesser creatures, so who knows what kind of treatment she’ll get now that they know she’s even more different.
Regardless of the news running rampant at school, she managed to find two angels to stand by her side. As the days pass, I’m sure she’ll find even more supporters who will accept her for who she is. Who wouldn’t, after all?
Only a piece of shit, that’s who.
That thought burrows its way deep inside me before taking root.
If I’m not careful, I’ll become the very thing I hate.
11
Irereadthepassage,hoping it’ll make sense this time, but no luck.
The Fallen library is quiet — too quiet — making it easy to get lost in my own thoughts instead of focusing on the task at hand. It’s Sunday afternoon, almost a full week since classes have started, and I still haven’t managed to get much sleep. After that stupid article in theSCU Weekly Observer, students have gotten braver. Half of my professors try to keep the peace, but the others just don’t care. Sometimes it feels like they even egg it on, paving the way to a cruel joke or taunt.
At night, battles dominate my dreams. Most of the time, I’m fighting demons, protecting those who taunted me even though I’d rather watch them fend for themselves. But other times … on the rough days like Tuesday, when it felt as though walking the halls was the equivalent of a Walk of Atonement to cleanse my sins, the dreams morph into nightmares. No longer do I fight the demons. Now I’m one of them, their leader, and the smile that spreads across my mutated face is wicked with triumph.
Fuck. It’s no wonder I’m exhausted.
Thank the Archangels for my new friends though. Theo and Raphael have been my constant companions. They stand by my side as often as they can, acting as my shields against the cruel words aimed at my chest. Somehow, they even succeed at making me smile. Their acceptance knows no bounds, even offering to assist in my search to find out what the fuck makes me so different. Who would have thought Pures could be so, well,pure.
As always, Dina has my back too, though with her second-year class load, I know she’s doing her best. We had a study session in her room yesterday — which, as luck would have it, is just across the hall from mine — locked away from the prying eyes of everyone else. I left her feeling hopeful, like things were getting back on track and returning to normal. But with me, things never really are.
I’ve only seen Zeke a few times since I crept from his room. The first time was near Somersault Falls while sitting with Raphael and Theo. The way he’d looked at me then, like I’d torn the heart straight from his chest and pummeled it to the ground … I saw more than just his anger that day. Buried beneath it was a world of betrayal. But what had I done to betray him? Is it because I left in the middle of the night? Or that my wings aren’t the standard black that everyone assumed? None of it makes sense.
His demeanor didn’t change when I saw him again on Wednesday or even last night after grabbing a snack from the kitchenette.
I flip ahead a few chapters in my book, desperate to find something that might help explain why I’m different.Maybe then I can get the assholes to leave me alone.
I read the text, skimming the parts about Pure angels being named for their purity, and the Fallen for their lack thereof.
At birth, angels are judged by the ruling Archangels to determine their true character. If they deem you pious and honorable, you’ll receive wings of untainted white. But if they decide you aren’t, those same wings will rot, turning black to match your sinful nature.
I scoff and shut the book, annoyed with the constant assumption that Fallen angels are corrupt and immoral. What the hell would that even make me, then, if I followed this logic? Only a little sinful? It’s unlikely I’ll find anything worthwhile in this stack, considering the last three I read were new versions, written after the Archangels overthrew our old God.
I pick up the last book anyway, not wanting to leave a single stone unturned. The paper feels different in this one, more textured and grainy than the others. It could mean this volume is older, perhaps from a time when God ruled Silver City, or it could just be a cheaper quality book. Either way, I squash down any hope rising to the surface and start reading.
