Death Has Wings

The Human Condition

I could tell that something wasn't right. The needle was stuck in my arm, half full. There was black liquid inside of it. I couldn't believe it. I wouldn't believe it. I refused to. I uttered a growl from the back of my throat, sounding more like an animal than a human. My father was still by my side, albeit shocked. The doctor was on my other side, uttering words not audible to my ears at this point. He was shaking his head, his face deep in worry and concentration. I pulled the needle from my arm.

I needed to get up. I needed to move before I was stuck to this bed for eternity. I tried to get out of bed but the doctor stopped me.

"You need to stay down, Clark. We need you here for more tests."

"No. I will not stay here for your stupid tests. I'm fine. I just need to go home." I pulled the covers off of me, pleased to see that I was still in my own clothes. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. The doctor rushed over to me and offered his support.

"If it's what you want, then fine, but let me help you." He tried to wrap his arm around me but I stepped away from him.

"I told you I was fine. Why don't you believe me?" I was getting angry. My father was already opening the door, waiting for me. I rolled my eyes and started to walk towards father. I looked at his face. It wasn't his. In fact, he didn't have a face at all.

A wave of pain surged through me, making me double up. I dropped to the floor, my head pounding. Not again, I thought. The pain carried on for about a minute until it stopped abruptly. I was confused. I stood up slowly, realising that I was still in the hospital, yet there was no doctor here. Or so I thought. I heard a gurgling from above me. I looked up to see that the doctor was on the ceiling, his throat slit. The blood was all over his clothes and skin but nowhere else.

As I continued to look up, my father came over to me and grabbed my arm. I turned my attention to him and I was relieved to see that he had a face. My father's face.

He guided me out of the hospital and into the car.

                                                                                  *****

"You feeling okay?" Father looked at me. I nodded. I was beginning to feel hungry.

"Can we get some food?"

"Sure." Father returned his gaze to the road. He drove back home as quickly as the speed limit would allow. I wasn't fast enough. My stomach was practically digesting itself by the time I got out of the car.

I raced to the kitchen and looked in the cupboards. Fully stocked. I smiled. I took the nearest edible thing and ripped into it like I had never eaten before. Father came into the kitchen and sat down at the dining table.

"How long has it been since you last ate?" He chuckled. I stopped eating and thought about the question. When was the last time I ate? I turned to father, food in hand. I swallowed what was in my mouth.

"Two weeks ago..." I was stunned at my own words. Two weeks since I last ate. How had I survived? I looked at father. His face was scrunched up in thought, trying to process what I had just said. I turned back to the cupboard, grabbed as much food as I could carry and squirreled my way upstairs, leaving father to his thoughts.

I dumped the food on my bed and closed my door. Finally, some peace. I lay on my bed, tucking into the closest morsel of goodness. I heard a faint ringing from somewhere inside my room. I recognized the tone almost immediately. It was my phone. Where had I left it?

I searched around my room, looking under piles of clothes that hardly ever got washed. I couldn't find it. As a last resort, I checked the little box on my shelf. There it was. My phone. My ridiculously old, shameful phone. I picked it up and flipped it open. 5 New Messages - Unknown Number. That was just wonderful.

I sat back on my bed, gently pushing the food aside. I opened the first message. It was from two weeks ago.

1. Welcome to Hell, Clark.

It didn't surprise me much. The next four messages did. They were all dated between two weeks ago and now.

2. Get ready for her, Clark, she's going to be with you for a very long time.

3. Enjoy being alone, you'll have to get used to it.

4. Say goodbye to mummy for me.

5. Surprise!

I had lost all appetite. Who had texted me? I was sure that the only people that had my number were mother, father and Grandma Mae. I couldn't be mother, since the most recent ones were received today. It couldn't be father, since he didn't have a phone. It couldn't be Grandma Mae, because she was dead. I threw my phone at the wall in frustration.

The phone didn't break. It didn't even hit the wall. It hit my wardrobe. That reminded me that I hadn't changed clothes since the night with Alexandria. I was becoming careless. I didn't even see a reason to change, but I did anyway.

I pulled out my favourite jeans and one of my Escape The Fate shirts. I put them on and sighed. I really needed some new clothes. Not any of that mainstream stuff though, clothes that I'd actually like to wear. I picked up my phone to see if it was okay. Not a single scratch. I dismissed it onto a pile of clothes.

I walked to the bathroom and looked it the mirror. Normal. No blood, no weird eye thing. No wings. Completely normal. I smiled. I finally looked normal...well, as normal as I could being me. I started to laugh. I don't know what was so funny, it just felt good to laugh for once.

I looked back into the mirror. I take back what I said before. My eyes were bright purple, sending shivers down my spine. They were normally violet, almost grey in fact. I was coming to like them. Not these though. Not bright purple. It gave off a sense of anger, a sense of desire. A sense of death.

I shook my head, trying to rid my eyes of this awful colour. It didn't work. I was beginning to accept that nothing was going to get better. My eyes flickered for a second. Yes. Flickered.

It clicked into place. If I accepted that nothing was going to get better, I would return to normal. How could I be sure that I would be my own special brand of normal again? I knew the answer. I couldn't. I could only hope.