An Angel and a Demon

Chapter 2

The next morning, Marilyn managed to get to school relatively on time, thanks to the motivation of telling Zayn about everything that had happened. Zayn, however, wasn’t on the bus, and that was when she started to seriously worry about him. She ignored the smiles and the greetings of her peers as she marched through the school gates and took out her phone, calling him. It went to voicemail. She stopped and looked up, scanning the crowd for Zayn. She jogged to her locker to look for him, and then somebody grabbed her arms and pulled her behind one of the classes, out of sight. She yelled and pushed away, scowling in confusion.

“Hey! Lyn, chill! It’s me,” growled Zayn.

She stopped struggling and glared at him, slapping his arm.

“Where were you? And why were you not answering my calls? And where the hell were you yesterday?” she whispered fiercely, yet relieved.

He ignored her questions and craned his neck to see if they were hidden from view. When he was sure that they weren’t being watched he focused his attention on her.

“Ok, so you know how I had that massive headache yesterday?” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Well, it got worse, so I called my mom to pick me up in the second last period. When I got home it was like I was in hell. Then, I fell asleep, and when I woke up...well…”

He looked up and checked if they were alone again and looked down. The muscles in his neck stood out and a slight frown crossed his face, just as two stunningly majestic horns emerged from the top of his forehead. Marilyn took a step back in surprise.

They were the darkest shade of black she had ever seen, and they curled upwards, following the shape of his head. She stared at them, forgetting all the words she ever learnt. Zayn looked up at her and smirked, showing off two gleaming fangs that protruded from his top gums. He laughed at her reaction. She swallowed.

“Um, I’ve got something to show you too,” she said.

She took off her backpack and jacket, stuffing them into Zayn’s hands and watching the smile slowly fade from his face. She furrowed her brow and concentrated, feeling her shoulder blades shift and push through her back, remembering how she’d practised that morning. Her wings listened to her and they unfurled once again, through the lines she had cut in her shirt, the slits opening and closing once again. She looked back at them and ruffled them, a wide grin spreading over her face as she looked back at Zayn. He stared at the wings, open-mouthed as she took the opportunity to take a closer look at his horns. They did nothing but stare at each other for a while. Then Zayn spoke up.

“Wait, can you fly?”

She beamed at the idea.

“I haven’t tried, actually. My mom doesn’t know about this, so I can’t exactly try to fly off in the middle of the day. I’m definitely going to try, though.”

Zayn grinned, shaking his head in disbelief and letting his fangs show.

Marilyn found herself staring at them, and then his lips, and looked away, only remembering then that they were still at school, and they still had classes to attend. She looked at him, folding up her wings once again and putting her jacket back on.

“Look, I really don’t know why this happened to us or how, but we really need to do some research. The fact that this happened to us at the same time is just...I don’t even know how to describe it anymore. I never believed in fantasies and magic and I still don’t, so I’m going to be looking for some logical explanation of this,” she said.

Zayn waited a moment and then retracted his horns and fangs. He knew she was right, so all he did was nod.

“Yeah. I think we have to take a look through some records of family history. Maybe this thing is genetic?”

She shrugged.

“It could be anything. Ok, how about we both go this afternoon and research. If you find anything, call me, and I’ll call you. Deal?”

“Deal,” he nodded.

They stepped out from behind the classroom and walked to class, getting a few stares from the students around them. Marilyn ignored them and didn’t complain.

***

The Internet, she reckoned, was a work of art. It literally had the answers to all of her problems and it had never failed to help her, no matter what her situation was. That is, if her situation didn’t include turning into a winged creature overnight.

Marilyn had been sitting at her computer since she had gotten home, browsing and searching the far corners of the Internet for anything that could have helped her. Her efforts were, unfortunately, quite useless. She’d given up an hour into her search and eventually just lounged in her chair reading Buzzfeed articles.

She sighed and heard her stomach growl. Scowling at the time, she went to the kitchen and made herself a sandwich and a hot cup of tea. Warm sunlight lit up the house, bringing a golden glow to the furniture. She’d always loved playing outside during the last hours of daylight. The skies’ gorgeous colours gave her an overwhelming sense of wanderlust. She remembered how, as a little girl, she had wished with all her heart that she could fly.

She stopped, halfway to the staircase with her mouth full of bread and looked at the ceiling of her house. It was pretty high. Higher than most peoples’ ceilings. She was relatively sure that two people could stand on somebody’s shoulders and still fit. She smiled mischievously, with her mouth still full, putting her plate and cup back on the kitchen counter. She knew that what she was about to do was probably a really bad idea and that she should have waited until it was dark to try this, but Marilyn had never really believed in the lovely characteristic called patience.

“You only live once,” she muttered as she closed the last window blinds and went to an open space in front of the staircase. Her wings opened up to their full span with alarming speed, as if they knew what was about to happen. She ruffled them a bit, testing the incredible ease with which they flapped. Once again, she marvelled at how natural they felt.

She looked in front of her, focused, blankly staring at the oven. Her wings straightened out, and she lifted them, ever so slowly. Then she tucked her arms close to her body and she dragged her wings down with the speed of a bullet, jumping a little for a boost, visualising herself majestically shoot up towards the ceiling, and... nothing happened.

She frowned and tried again, jumping a little higher and flapping a little more, but with the same outcome. She stopped for a minute, trying to work out how to go about learning to fly without making a complete ass of herself. An idea crossed her mind. A moronically practical idea. And she decided to try it, for lack of better judgement.

A few minutes later, she was standing on top of the kitchen counter, the granite cold against her bare feet, staring down at two moth-eaten, grimy mattresses that were stacked on top of each other about two meters away. A small voice in her head told her that she had failed at not making herself look like an ass, but she ignored that voice because it sounded a lot like Zayn. She took a deep breath and prepared to jump.

And then the front door opened and before she could do anything, her mother walked into the kitchen with her bag and keys. She looked at Marilyn and froze, then looked at the mattress and back to Marilyn and her wings. She didn’t scream. She didn’t curse. She just stared with an unreadable expression on her face. Marilyn had no clue what to do.

And then she put down her bags and keys, and swallowed.

“Sweetie, there’s something I have to tell you,” she breathed.