He with Missing Wings

3 / Touch

Three months had passed since my encounter with Kylel. He had never left my side in the wake of our first unforgettable hookup in my bathtub. Whether I was deteriorating in school, enduring an uneventful run in the supermarket, or snoring under the sheets of my bed, Kylel had watched over me from dusk till dawn. He had a clear understanding of the world and how things living and nonliving functioned. His knowledge showed when he had practically given me the answers to my trigonometry homework, and history papers, and just about any subject that wasn't entirely man-made. There were a handful of moments where I had nearly lost my life but Kylel was there to forewarn me of such fates.

Cheating death was a euphoric and cruel phenomenon. Every instance opened my eyes and forced me to see things for what they truly were. I had a wonderful life that was worth living every second of, and it saddened me to think that I had tried to end it three months ago. After rescuing me from yet another tragedy, Kylel explained that every human had a final hour, but that only supernatural beings could alter it if they wished to. He confirmed that I was supposed to die in that bathtub with my wrists slit open, and would have been successful had he not arrived in time to stop me. I would never forget that. In the course of our time together, I accepted the deranged realization that I had fallen for Kylel.

I stood on the tips of my toes, struggling to complete my locker's impossible combination. The preoccupied students of Windsor High school paced back and forth all around me, hurrying to their sixth period before the late bell threatened to strike a third time. Kylel stood at my side, watching me repeat the same action over and over. I was shorter than most girls my age so I had to raise my right arm high over my head like I was trying to fondle a giant's areola.

"Keep turning to the left until you hit six, then turn twice to the right," Kylel instructed.

"Okay... left then---"

A girl rammed into me from behind, knocking me forward into the lockers. All eyes fell on the two of us. I recognized the girl. She was Mackenzie Hartsen, a popular cheerleader who would never give the time of day to somebody like me, not unless somebody bumped into her.

"Bitch, watch where the fuck you goin'," she snapped bitterly.

I ignored her and collected my scrambled notebooks from the floor. I reached for my trigonometry textbook before taking notice of Kylel's trembling legs. He was furious and trying his best to contain himself. I looked up at him, confused as to why he acted this way.

"Babe, you alright?"

My textbooks rose from the ground, the hall lights flickered on and off, and the lockers rattled open one by one. Consumed with rage, Kylel let out an inhuman howl.

"Watch where you're going!!!"

Mackenzie soared through the hallway, crashing through the window and plummeting straight down. Students screamed and flocked near the scene. Alarmed teachers dispersed from their classrooms to locate the source of the noise but there was nothing good to see. I joined the crowds of students to catch a glimpse of the plight outside. Mackenzie's body was flat on top of a car. Her head was bent sideways like a rag doll and blood ran down her arms. I slowly backed away from the shattered window---from the other students---horrified by what I witnessed.

"Are you okay, Christina?"

I felt something tap my shoulder. It was Kylel's hand. He actually touched my body.

"H-How are you doing that?" I demanded.

He looked concerned for my health, like he could care less about the girl he had just lacerated.

"I don't know. It's just something that I can do now," he said casually. "Did I do something wrong?"

I gazed into his blameless eyes. It was something I did regularly to comfort him in times of stress. This was not the first 'episode' that Kylel has had.