This is literally just a story for me and my friend

where it all started

It was 4:03 pm. Saturday evening. I peeked out from behind the door to see my father sobbing his eyes out, my uncle trying to console him. All to no avail, my father was unbelievably upset. I didn't know why, but I do now. I was only three, so I wouldn't have understood if my dad tried to explain. I waddled up to my father, tugging on his pants leg. "What's wrong?" I asked, as worried as a three year old can get.
"nothing, papa's alright." My father sniffed, composing himself in my presence. I was satisfied with this answer and went back to clanking my blocks together and wondering when mommy will come home from 'work'. She never came back. Because she was dead. There wasn't any way of getting her back. Not even to say my final goodbyes. She's gone. Forever. Around 5-6, I began to get my wings. It hurt. A LOT. But now, it isn't so bad. Thanks to my "father", the tips of my snow-white feathers are stained with gold, so are my hands. My feet. All the way to my calves. God, there's even hints of him in my hair. I hate it. I hate HIM. I'm so upset I didn't let Christopher kill me when he had the chance. Existing with the constant reminder is more agonizing than anything I could be tortured with. I wouldn't wish this agony on anyone, not even my deepest enemies. This is torture beyond compare. After a year or so of having wings, I learned to fly. So my father clipped my primaries, so I couldn't fly. I'd been stripped of all freedom I had, because I was "Daddy's little girl, and I needed to stay close".I resented my father for so long, until I noticed my primaries growing again years later, I was about 11. I was overwhelmed with joy. I waited, not coming out of my room until they were fully grown. I packed my bags and flew away, away from him and my awful past. I wandered the streets for a little while, ultimately getting noticed by a guy named William. He apparently had 3 kids at home, 2 being around my age. He offered me good food and a warm bed. That was more than enough for me. I loved my time with William, he was good to me. But all good things must come to an end eventually.