Death Has Wings

And So It Starts

Pain. That was all I could feel. It shot through my head like a bullet. I scrunched up my eyes, trying in vain to stop the raging headache I was having. My head was having none of it. Instead of going away, like I wanted it to, my headache got worse. I was on the brink of tears. Nothing had hurt this bad before, not even the beatings.

I threw myself off of my bed and trotted downstairs, into the kitchen. Mother was there, washing dishes at the sink.

"Mother," I pressed my palm against my temple. "Where's the paracetamol?"

"In the medicine cupboard, as usual. Why d'you want it?" She wiped her hands on the tea-towel and turned to me. I quickly went to the cupboard and opened it, spotting the paracetamol immediately.

"I have a headache. A really bad one." I pushed a tablet out of the packet and swallowed it without water; I didn't need it. Mother's face glazed over with concern.

"D'you want me to bring your dinner upstairs for you? I know it's only a headache but you need to stay in a dark and quiet place to-"

"No, it's fine, thanks. I'll come down for dinner if I feel okay. If not, I won't have dinner tonight." I quickly smiled at her and turned to leave but she grabbed my arm.

"Clark, honey, if you don't have dinner tonight, that'll be three days without it." She put the back of her hand to my forehead, pure worry plastered on her face. I gently removed her hand from my forehead and smiled again.

"Mother, I'm-" a shot of pain through my head made me close my eyes for a second. I reopened them and pulled my arm from her grip. "I'm fine."

I walked out of the kitchen and stood at the bottom of the stairs, listening to Father in the living room. He was on the phone to someone, laughing and joking. He doesn't deserve to be happy.

I shook my head and went upstairs, into my room, closing the door behind me. I shuffled to my bed and flung myself down on the mattress, bouncing a few times before coming to a gentle stop. I closed my eyes. I wanted to sleep so badly. I wanted to sleep the pain away.

My body gave in, every muscle relaxing. My head began to pound again but duller this time. Manageable. Darkness cushioned me as I fell into a deep slumber.

*

I slowly opened my eyes, sunlight bringing me to close them instantly. I opened them once more and rolled over to look at my clock. 6:00 AM. Perfect.

I stretched and got out of bed. Rubbing my eye, I walked to my wardrobe and picked out my usual school outfit, changing my clothes within five minutes.

I opened my door and peered out. I could hear Father downstairs, making a cup of tea. I sighed and made my way downstairs. I went into the kitchen and straight to the back door. Before I was even able to touch the keys, Father spoke.

"Where the Hell do you think you're going?" He kept stirring his tea, not looking at me. I ignored him and unlocked the door. He stopped stirring his tea and came towards me. "Answer me."

Again, I ignored him. I had somewhere to be, I didn't need to be questioned on that. He slammed his hand beside my head, making me turn to look at him.

"Where're you going?" His voice was dangerously low. I stared straight into his eyes.

"Out."

"No you're not. You aren't going any-fucking-where." A small smile appeared on his face as he reached with his other hand and locked the door. "Come with me."

I gave up and obeyed, not wanting to wake Mother. I followed him into the living room and stood there, watching him retrieve something from the drawer in his desk. He pulled out a bag of razors.