Wings

The Sighting

~~"I thought the most beautiful thing in the world must be shadow." ~Sylvia Plath~~

Unable to stand the thought that I was going crazy any longer, I quickly slipped on my coat and headed out the door once again. I didn't bother to let Jack know where I was going, partly because I didn't even know where I was going. My feet just carried me wherever they pleased; I was merely going where they willed me to go.

After fifteen minutes of walking, I found myself at the entrance to the town's cemetery. A tear ran down my face as I instinctively traveled over to my parents' grave, kneeling down on the snowy ground by their headstone.

I hadn't even noticed where I was walking until I had reached the cemetery. Why had part of me decided to go here?

I let out a weep of frustration and rested a hand on their headstone. With my glove I gently wiped away the snow that covered their names. I sat there and studied the headstone for a long time, letting my thoughts drift off to wherever they wanted.

Eventually the cold was overbearing and I needed to get up and move around. I walked out of the cemetery and turned the opposite way of my house; I wasn't ready to go home just yet. My mind was still reeling with thoughts of my parents and how they weren't with me.

Suddenly, after an hour of walking, I noticed that it was dark and I had no idea where I was.

Somehow I had managed to trap myself in an alley between two long buildings.

I was suddenly aware of another presence, but I knew it was not the shadows. No, there was actually someone behind me following me. Without thinking, I whipped around to face them. He couldn't have been seven feet away from me. I gasped like an idiot.

"Well hello there," the man said with a gruff voice. He was wearing jeans and a black jacket over another gray, long sleeved shirt. There was a small amount of stubble on his chin and I noticed he couldn't be older than twenty five.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing out here by herself at this time of night?"

I couldn't breathe, I couldn't speak, I couldn't move. I was just stuck fighting for a way out. A voice inside my head screamed for me to get the heck out of there, but I couldn't move. Even if I could have moved, it wouldn't have done me much good because I was at a dead end.

He walked closer towards me, the glint of something shiny in his left hand. To my horror I realized that it was a knife. He was going to hurt me.

For some messed up reason, all I could do was listen to the snow crunch under his feet, getting louder as he got closer. Finally a switch went off inside of me and I took a step back.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, the glint of a smile on his lips. He was enjoying this, enjoying my fear. Just as I was about to make a break for it, he quickly grabbed my wrist, too tightly for me to break out of.

"Aw, don't be like that, honey." He said, reaching his other hand up to stroke the side of my face.

I jerked my head away from his touch and used my free hand to slap him hard across the face. I had hoped that it would distract him long enough to give me a chance to break free, but his grip only got tighter and his nails worked their way into my skin.

"Well that wasn't very nice," he said, his voice growing angry. I could smell the alcohol radiating from his mouth as he talked.

I tried to jerk away from him again but this time he backed me up against the wall of a building and held the knife up to my neck. I sucked in a shaky breath and stared at the knife that was pressed up against the soft skin of my neck. The man smiled widely at my fear; it was like it powered him.

"Now we're gonna have some fun, baby." His words slurred together and the stench of alcohol made me cringe even further.

I let out a weak noise as he pushed down slightly on the knife.

Quicker than my mind could comprehend, he was yanked away from me and slammed against a wall. I gasped and put a hand to my neck, shocked to feel that there was no blood.

My savior was a dark hooded figure, currently beating the crap out of the drunken man. His head jerked to look at me and he yelled, "Run!"

He didn't have to tell me twice. Without even giving it a second though, I was off, running as fast as I could. Where I was going, I didn't know. I kept running until I was out of the alley and onto a busy and thankfully, familiar street.

I knew my way from there and I ran all the way back to the house. I ran up the three flights of stairs and didn't stop running until I was finally in my room, the door locked behind me for good measure.

It had taken me a long time to calm myself down. Even after I had taken a cold shower and changed into comfortable clothes, I still shook with fear. I ran a brush through my wet hair and combed out all the tangles. I looked out the windowed door of my balcony and jumped when I saw a dark shape in the corner of my balcony outside.

I forced myself to walk to the door, open it, and step outside. As soon as I did, the figure vanished.

Suddenly I was aware of something. The man who had saved me was dressed as the mysterious boy I kept seeing glimpses of. The same boy who had saved my life when the car had been about to hit me. Now he had saved me from a thug.

This boy, real or not, was my only chance at sanity. All of a sudden I had a new goal: I had to find him.