Black Wings

Chapter 1

I sighed as I rolled over onto my back in my bed, attempting to go back to sleep. I stared at my blank ceiling only a little while longer before giving up any hope of sleep. I swung my legs off the side of my bed and stood up quietly, hearing the squeak of my floorboards under my feet. I flinched as my feet made contact with some object I have sprawled on my floor as I made my way to the door. I'll probably get yelled at sometime later by my mom for not cleaning my room like she asked.

I grasped the doorknob firmly, slowly turning the knob and pulling the door open. I turned away from my hallway long enough to grab my hoodie. I tip-toed out the door and down the dark hallway before coming to the stairs. I walked down and into the living room before turning the lock on the door and slipping outside.

I slid on my grey hoodie quickly, already feeling my face starting to freeze. When I got it over my head, I put the hood up and stuck my hands into the pocket on the front.

I made my way down the sidewalk, figuring I'd visit my older brother's grave. I stared at my breath as I walked, since it was the middle of winter, my breath came out as a fog.

I remember when I was little, Ross and I would play in the woods near the neighborhood park. He would chase me across the creek, he always caught me. He would always say he looked for the fog that formed when I breathed.

I sighed thinking about Ross and feeling a slight pang in my chest. Even though its been two years since he died, I still miss him.

I just stared ahead during the four block walk to the cemetery. When I saw the gates ahead I quickened my pace and slipped through the small gap between the bars. I navigated the walkway until I was in the very back of the graveyard, near the concrete angel, I saw a familiar black headstone. I got on my knees and traced the words with my fingers.

Ross Abel Nightroad

October 12th, 1995-June 6th, 2011

Loving Son, Friend, and Brother.

I bit my lip, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. I took my finger away from the tombstone and sat back, pulling my knees up to my chest and let out a quite sob that escaped my throat.

I stiffened when I heard a noise from somewhere behind me. I jumped up and spun around, nobody was aloud after hours-that's why I had to sneak in- and I was sure that nobody in Yellowstone was brave enough to do what Im doing.

"Hello?" I called out into the open, trying to keep my voice steady.

Only then did I realize that my best friend Katie would kill me if she knew I was doing what she hated when people did in scary movies. Call out to the random noise.

"Hello?" I called again, taking a step farther away from my brother.

Suddenly I saw a boy walk .out from behind a tombstone. He was wearing all black-black t-shirt, black jeans, black shoes, even a black beanie-. As he came closer I realized that he also had black hair.

I felt scared yet safe with this stranger walking towards me. He stopped walking, only about four feet away from where I stand.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice breaking. From fear or anticipation I don't know.

"Everyone calls me Patch." He responded, his voice deep and smooth.

"I'm-" I tried to say before he cut me off.

"Ever. I know." He smirked slightly.

"H-How do you know?" I asked, stepping backwards but careful not to hit Ross' tombstone.

"I know a lot of things, Angel." My throat tightened, in fright. "I'm not going to hurt you Ever." He promised.

"T-Then what are you going to do?" I kept stuttering, I needed to stop.

"The less you know, the better." He said softly.

He looked like he had black eyes, but maybe it only seemed that way because it was dark out.

"You should go." He said, gazing at me in what might have been concern. But I was probably seeing things.

"Will I ever see you again?" It just slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

He smiled slightly, "Maybe." Was all he said.

I nodded, figuring my dad or mom will check up on me soon and I needed to be back home and in my bed by then.

He walked up to me and stroked my cheek softly, "Goodnight Angel."

"Goodnight Patch." I responded softly.

He turned and walked and I walked back the way I came. I slipped out of the gate and headed home. I walked back inside and into my room, taking my hoodie off and flinging it towards the dresser. I was definitely going to get yelled at later. I slid back into my bed and pulled the covers over me.

I closed my eyes and thought of Patch. I hope I see him again soon, he intrigued me. I guess I'll just have to wait.

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20 points to whoever catches the similarities to this story and a actual published story. Another 10 if you name the book. (: