Angelic Ella

Ella

Ok so I have no idea what this is. The only reason I published this is for my strange friend who wanted to read it. (Shout out to Lorry)

I'll kill him. I'll stab him through the chest with a rusty knife. I shoot him a million times in the head. I'll strangle him with his own shower curtain. I'll probably also fantasise about the best ways to kill him, but whatever. I'll kill him eventually.

Literally broke my heart, and the best he can do is 'I tried.'? He is so dead and he doesn't even know it yet. Only Carrie knows. I haven't exactly stopped ranting about him to her for the past 3 hours to be fair. Then again, he deserves it. He deserves to be fucking hung, drawn and quartered for all I care.

I'm 13 years old, finally feeling like I can express myself to someone other than my sister and BOOM, gone, just like that. Not to mention he only did it because I told him a slightly weird secret. Okay a very weird secret. But, you see, it's a hard secret to keep. I mean, wings are pretty big things to keep secret.

Yes, wings, you heard right.

Of course, no one I know can see them, but I can make a shadow of them on the wall using this sexy trick I finally learnt to control where I make light shine out of my eyes and mouth and chest like a lamp. I mean, yeah, whatever, it's a little weird, but there was no need to dump me for it! It's not like he could feel them or anything.

I haven't met one person that can actually touch them and see them for almost six years, and, honestly, I'm starting to lose hope I ever will.

It all started when I was seven. I woke up feeling kinda warm and rested (which I've literally never felt before. I hate mornings.) and just like that there was massive wings, light as a feather (Ha ha, I'm so punny. Was that another pun? Yes, yes it was.) hanging off my back, lit up like the Fourth of July. I'd ran downstairs with tears in my eyes, despite my strangely relaxed state, and scared the living shirt (Yes, shirt. Quite literally too. She was doing the ironing and now we have a triangular burn mark on our carpet that we've just never fixed.) out of my Mam, dogs and sister. Of course, when my Mam regained consciousness it took a little while to get used to it.

After a few days of practise, I worked out how to get rid of the light, and subsequently the shadows of wings, too. Therefore, only my twin sister, Carrie, and my now ex-boyfriend Dickhead (It's actually Jacob, but I think Dickhead suits him better, so I'll refer to him as that from now on.) know about them.

I never really made friends, because I always had Carrie, but Carrie went into hospital for a while and I ended up getting friends with Dickhead and friendship blossomed into a relationship. It wasn't even a romantic relationship, it was just a reason to hang out all the time. Then when Carrie got out of hospital it was all 'I get it. You care more about them than me.' Until I told Dickhead that my sister was more important to me than anyone else in the world in the kindest way possible ('Listen to me, you arrogant prat. You can go suck a cock for all I care about your dumb ass.') and we fell out for a little while.

And it was all great and fine until he came grovelling and I had to say yes. 'Course, Carrie went mental. What was I thinking? He'd already proved he was a little shit, why did I care? Believe me, I asked myself that every fucking day I spent with him, but old habits die hard, I guess.

Anyway, I thought "Hey, maybe I should tell him my secret. I trust him." I was talking total shit, of course, but I tried (Harder than Dickhead, anyway. Oh, dear dirty mind.). Anyway, all I got from it was 'I can't be dating a freak. Bye. I tried.' And like that, he left me with fuck all.

When I pointed this all out Carrie dropped her test tube, shattered it, then picked up a shard and threatened to stab him with it.

A few days of isolation later, me and Carrie decided to try and convince Dickhead that telling others would be a bad idea. He was fully prepared to have a fucking PowerPoint on in our assembly about How Much of a Freak is Ella when we pointed out he'd just seem totally crazy and he changed his mind. Yeah, I may or may not have lit up like I was on fire and used my angry wings to my advantage because it made them look super threatening so they would scare him, but it worked so i have no regrets.

I haven't spoke to him since then, yeah, but I'm still entitled to a little rant now and then, and my birthday was coming up, so I was totally on edge. Will he buy me a present? Should I ask him for one? Should I pretend he already gave me one? Hell, should I give him one? When I voiced these thoughts to Carrie she called me an "OTT moron" and explained that it didn't matter what shit he came up with, because I was the one that mattered.

Okay, okay, maybe we shared a few tears, but i got the point. Then, then, I did something I've never done before. I moved my wings on purpose. I made my right wing brushed over Carries shoulder gently and she felt it. I saw her lean into it slightly, and smiled. Then she looked at me strangely and asked if it was me. I nodded like a fucking bobble head, and we ended up in the park jumping around in circles like a pair of high two year olds that had just been offered a bucket of candy. We only just made it in time to not get detention, and we were both so ecstatic that we got a negative anyway.

It wasn't until we got home i started my three hour rant, because my wings were starting to get all puffed up and I knew it was time to let it all out. When I was done they were settled against my back still tense, but more from the fact that I was still mildly angry than I had a shit load of emotions to get rid of.

I was also glowing a bit (A lot.) and Carrie was wearing sunglasses so she didn't go blind. Even the dogs were hiding. Except Ivy. Because she's 8 weeks old and couldn't give less a of a fuck about anything except the squeaky toy she was currently chewing. Lola and Poppy, however, had disappeared to their separate beds as soon as I'd came in looking like someone had stuck a pole up my arse.

Mam was in the bath, probably drowning in stress relief bubble bath. Then, a magical thought came to me. It was my fourteenth birthday tomorrow. Internally, I laughed at myself. Magical my arse. More like Hell on Earth.

All it meant was Mam would shove a shit ton of money in front of my face and tell me it was going in my bank and Gran would fangirl over Carrie until Grandma came and gave us actually interesting things. And I would be chewing on glass all day waiting to see if I got anything from Dickhead while trying to discreetly read gay porn and squeal whenever something interesting happened.

Other than that, I was looking forward to it.

You're welcome, Bitchface.