Wings

Every morning I would wake up with little wounds; just little scrapes and bruises I attribute to flailing in my sleep.

This morning, I woke up with a huge cut across my hip, a glowing golden dagger plunged into my wall, and what looks an awful lot like a dead angel on my floor.

I never really believed in angels, mostly because I've been through a lot and angles were supposed to come in your time of desperate need. But yet I sat there at the edge of my bed, looking down at the mess of feathers and crimson blood.

I was about to get up and poke at the...person? On the floor, when my angel suddenly bursts through the window, bloodied and bruised, and shouted "we need to get you out here now!"

"Hey egg head when you gon Crack?"

"I won't hesitate to stab you."

"He loooves thick women."

"Shut the hell up your a bad wing girl!"

"Ever think that's because I don't have wings??"

[I ALWAYS UPDATE RANDOMLY BUT I ALWAY HAVE A COUPLE CHAPTERS DONE BEFORE I POST SO YEAH]