Angel's Death

Project File: The Secret

Halley's POV: 

"This is so cool! I finally get to fit you for that new shirt that I have been dying to try out!" "Yeah, the new shirt." "Something wrong?" "Why are you so happy after all that? You just keep on smiling." "Well, that's just the perks of always running on a sugar high." As we walked up to Ivy's house, I spotted the high rise apartment building that my mom and I lived in. It was right outside of the suburbs, which gave me a pretty terrible walk to school every day. It was better than taking the bus though, which still gave me nightmares even to this day. "Hey, is it ok if I stay the weekend?"

"Sure! I was hoping you'd say that. We need to discuss your fuzzy little problem." She winked. "Ok Ivy, enough with the Harry Potter one liners, if you want to discuss that you need to kick out your sister." "It's not my fault that Lilli can't keep her mouth shut!" 

Ivy's little sister Lillian, or Lilli as we called her, was a chronic motormouth. If you had a secret, she probably would expose it in the most annoying way possible. Luckily, she hadn't unearthed anything about my wings.

"Ok, wait," your thinking, "what about wings?" Shh, I'll explain it in a little bit.

"Heey sis! What's the latest news on the freshman hall?" "Nothing Lilli, go away." "Oh, is somebody really grumpy today?" "Hey Lilli, look." Ivy threw up the bird, and just walked away. "Mom! Ivy flipped me off again!" I chuckled at the family dynamic, wishing that I could at least be as close knit with my mother so that she actually said more than three sentences to me in the morning.

Ivy and I ran up the stairs to her attic bedroom, which her dad hated, and she loved. The walls were covered in movie posters, and the floors were strewn with many different types of cloth. A lone dress form stood in the corner, some sheer cloth draped over it's shoulders. As we shut the door in Lilli's face, we started giggling. "Oh my gosh," I sighed. "That was a relief!" "Tell me about it!"

As I stared at her latest creation on the dress form, Ivy started her now-commonplace rant on the newest pieces she had made, and why. As her voice faded in and out,  I saw what the sheer sleeves seemed to form. "Ivy, are you going completely 80's on me?" "Maybe." I saw her smirk and glance towards her poster of David Bowie. "You have to be kidding me." "Nope!" 

"So, has your sister caught wind of Project W?" "No, not yet, she still thinks that I'm making a ton of workout clothes." "That's what you told her?" "Hey, it was better that telling her that you have wings!" "Shut up!"

Ok, fine, I will explain. 

I have wings. Think angel type, not bat or skeleton or anything weird like that. I was born with an odd birthmark shaped like them, and soon they grew into wings. That's the story I heard anyways. I think that I'm some sort of mutant odd creature that somebody experimented on and dumped into my mom's hands. I've never met my dad, but I bet he is the one to blame for my problem.  

I don't look like my mom in any way except  for my nose, and even that is pushing it. The one time I heard about my father was when I was eight. She had gotten drunk, and she started to call me Eric. Who the hell is Eric? A few days after that, I asked her "Who's Eric," and she got angry. Since then, she has held the silent treatment on me, only coming home late at night, and leaving early in the morning. I basically started living at Ivy's house then. 

Before any of you guy's point out any loopholes, I can hide my wings. They fade into my back, and I'd like to keep it that way. Ivy only found out by pure dumb luck. She scared me when I had less control, and in a comfortable place, and they popped out. She has helped me hide over the years better, by using her clothing, loud music, and an intricate knowledge of how to sneak out, creating a sort of landing pad for me to fall back on. She is more than a friend- she's a sister. 

However, ever sense she found out, Ivy has been trying to get me to become a superhero, partially because of her love of comics, and partially because of all the superhero designs she has made in her sketchbook. She has tried way too many times to make the 'perfect' superhero outfit for me, so I just roll with it and just try to get her out of making any sort of spandex underwear-like things. I don't want to look like a tweety-bird superman. (Oh no, I'm using her references!)

"Halley? Earth to Halley!" I looked up at Ivy's face. Her smirk was evident on her face, and she was holding out something fluffy. "Is that what I think it is?" I asked in trepidation. "Oh yes," she snarked back. "You will want to try this on."