The Broken Wings of a Fallen Angel

Two- Struck

Two- Struck

Blake

Man, today sucks, I thought to myself as I walked home. My black and red striped backpack felt heavy upon my shoulder. I could feel my patience beginning to run out like every other schoolday, so I decided to move a bit faster. As I quickened my pace, I felt the hood of my sweatshirt bounce slightly. Up and down, up and down, I thought, letting my feet hit the ground to the beat. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four... The numbers rolled in my head, over and over. I thought about playing my saxophone, the constant bum, bum, bum, of the drums behind me. I loved music- whether I was playing it or just listening to it, music was my life.

I thought about all of the shit going on in my life. Today, my girlfriend, who I had caught cheating on me, was apparently still 'in love' with me. I was pretty sure she'd kill any girl who talked to me; I had seen the hideously serial-killer-like look on her face before when I was talking to my science partner. Jesus, she is a serial killer! I laughed to myself.

You see, when you're a devil, you can do stupid stuff, like date some psychotic hottie or set a teacher's tires on fire. Unfortunately, though people expect that, they don't expect you to anything other than such- playing the sax included.

Damn, I thought, Val's gonna kill me- again. Whenever I was late getting home and my parents were on a business trip, Valerie, my little sister, would reprimand me for hours. Gods, I hate it.  I thought about just not going home until after school the next day. I wondered if she would even care. I could go to Ryan's or the park. I doubted that she could find me- hell, she wouldn't even try to find me.

Of course, I had no clue as to how my sister would react to my absence. I growled lightly to myself, but continued to walk. Eventually, I decided that it was better to be yelled at now than to be strangled later. I laughed at the thought of my sister trying to kill me. I wasn't really surprised, really. She pissed me off, I pissed her off back. Family logic. 

For about seven minutes, I walked, my feet tapping the ground to the continuous beat- bum, bum, bum! Bum, bum, bum! - that only I could hear. Finally, I got to my house- a beautiful old, white building. It was two stories high and looked like it was over a hundred years old. Sighing, I went to the door. As I reached for the handle, I expected it to turn surely and smoothly, just like it always did when I got home. However, it did not. The door was locked. Not even thinking about why, I grumbled, searching for the key, flipping up rocks in an agitated manner. I swiped up the key when I found it- it was under the 23rd rock I flipped(yes, I counted)- and yet again walked towards the stupid locked door.

I jammed the key in, turned it, and shoved the door. I realized how annoyed I was when the door slammed against the wall. Silently cursing, I called, "Val? You there?" 

No answer. I called out again. No answer.

"What the hell?" I asked myself while looking around. "Huh." I dropped my backpack on the couch, then checked my phone. She hadn't called me. Maybe she's just running late... I snorted to myself. Why would my sister- Valerie Rose Natasha, the most perfect girl in eighth grade, be late? Especially if it was later than me. Getting even more frustrated, I shoved my phone in my pocket and strutted outside. I needed to go for a walk. I left the door unlocked- what kind of idiot would try to steal from a devil?- and jogged down the hill.

I was wearing dark blue jeans and a red t-shirt, which wasn't very good for running. At that point, though, I didn't give a crap. I picked up my speed, liking the way the harsh wind beat against my face. Now I was running, and once I started, nothing could stop me.

Except for falling girls.