Chapter Three
I woke up at six-ish, because I like to wake up early.
The other night I practically murdered Zen with my "incredibly delicious" cooking. He's way too nice. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, yawning.
I glanced out my window, brushing my short black hair back. I heard a car door slam, then someone approaching the door.
It had to do with Zen, I could already tell.
The bell rang. I was down the stairs in a few seconds. When Zen opened the guest room door, blinking sleepily, I shushed him. He nodded, sliding out of the room and into the bathroom.
I answered the door.
"Good morning. Can I help you?" I asked. A pretty girl stood in front of me. "Yes. Did you happen to see a speeding car the other day?" she said politely. Didn't even return my greeting.
"Uhm, no. It's kinda early, and as you can see, I'm in my pajamas. I'd really like to get back to bed, thank you. It's Saturday." I said, frowning.
"Are your parents home?' she asked, unfazed. Was she deaf? "No. My mother is on a business trip and my father lives pretty much across the globe. Anything else or are you gonna let me get back to my bed, where I was sleeping soundly until you woke me up?" I said, adding extra sharpness to my words. I wanted to protect Zen, and if it meant getting mean, I would get mean.
She went red, and stuttered, "Y-Yes, sorry. Have a nice day." She turned tail and ran off, her perfect blonde hair streaming behind her. I grinned and shut the door.
"Zen! Hey, good morning." I called, once the car was gone. He smiled at me like I was the greatest thing he had ever seen and replied, "Morning. What was that about?" He gestured limply to the door.
"Oh, that? I think she was looking for you." I frowned. "She wanted to know if I saw the car that trashed you."
He grimaced, which still looked perfectly hot on his face. He reached over and rubbed the back of his neck, sighing deeply. "I should probably tell you this since I'm freeloading here." he said. God, if it was something important. . .
"It's kinda important." Zen said.
Whoop-de-doo.
"Well, I told you that scientists put wings on my back, right? (I nodded here.) Well, there's kinda like a rival scientist group who. . .well, they hate the idea of genetic manipulation. Basically a buncha hippies. The car you saw? Well, I belong to them, in a way. They shoved me out of the car because we were being followed. Luckily you found me before the hippies caught me." he said, nodding.
It was a little hard to take seriously since he called them "hippies".
"In other words, you were dumped for your protection?" I asked. Zen nodded. "Harsh," I muttered.
He gave a small shrug. "I can't go back." he said at last. "Why not? Wouldn't you be safer with your. . .owners?" I questioned. That felt weird to say. No human being should literally belong to another.
He looked solemnly at his feet. "If you want the full-on, honest truth. . .I was somewhat of a failure." he said. Zen stretched his gorgeous black wings out, the sun catching them and making them look purple. "Those sickos are striving for perfection. White, feathery wings. Mine are black. And mine are actually larger than the ones before me." he said matter-of-factly. "And. . .Well, I'm not much of an Angel, to say the least." he managed, looking away.
What did he mean by that? "So your wings aren't quite right. Why does that mean you can't go back?" I said hesitantly.
"Do you see any Angels walking around normally? If I go back, they'll cut my wings off. My wings are attached to my nervous system and my brain. If they cut them off, I die." Zen said, his usually good-natured voice steely and dripping with rage.
I couldn't help it - I winced. He noticed and looked away again. "Sorry." he said. "It's fine. Zen, you can always stay here with me. Mom is hardly ever here. Maybe for a week or two, and it'd be easy to hide you in this huge house." I offered. "I can't do that. I was practically unconscious when you found me. I wouldn't have been able to get far on two feet. They'll find out I'm here." he said. He reached over and gripped my hand. He pulled me over to him, then placed my hand on his left wing. It felt like he had a broken bone in that wing.
"I can't fly anymore." he said. Zen looked incredibly sad. My heart ached. "Do you trust me? Utterly trust me?" I asked. He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I do, actually." he said after a moment. "Good. I'm calling a vet."
I woke up at six-ish, because I like to wake up early.
The other night I practically murdered Zen with my "incredibly delicious" cooking. He's way too nice. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, yawning.
I glanced out my window, brushing my short black hair back. I heard a car door slam, then someone approaching the door.
It had to do with Zen, I could already tell.
The bell rang. I was down the stairs in a few seconds. When Zen opened the guest room door, blinking sleepily, I shushed him. He nodded, sliding out of the room and into the bathroom.
I answered the door.
"Good morning. Can I help you?" I asked. A pretty girl stood in front of me. "Yes. Did you happen to see a speeding car the other day?" she said politely. Didn't even return my greeting.
"Uhm, no. It's kinda early, and as you can see, I'm in my pajamas. I'd really like to get back to bed, thank you. It's Saturday." I said, frowning.
"Are your parents home?' she asked, unfazed. Was she deaf? "No. My mother is on a business trip and my father lives pretty much across the globe. Anything else or are you gonna let me get back to my bed, where I was sleeping soundly until you woke me up?" I said, adding extra sharpness to my words. I wanted to protect Zen, and if it meant getting mean, I would get mean.
She went red, and stuttered, "Y-Yes, sorry. Have a nice day." She turned tail and ran off, her perfect blonde hair streaming behind her. I grinned and shut the door.
"Zen! Hey, good morning." I called, once the car was gone. He smiled at me like I was the greatest thing he had ever seen and replied, "Morning. What was that about?" He gestured limply to the door.
"Oh, that? I think she was looking for you." I frowned. "She wanted to know if I saw the car that trashed you."
He grimaced, which still looked perfectly hot on his face. He reached over and rubbed the back of his neck, sighing deeply. "I should probably tell you this since I'm freeloading here." he said. God, if it was something important. . .
"It's kinda important." Zen said.
Whoop-de-doo.
"Well, I told you that scientists put wings on my back, right? (I nodded here.) Well, there's kinda like a rival scientist group who. . .well, they hate the idea of genetic manipulation. Basically a buncha hippies. The car you saw? Well, I belong to them, in a way. They shoved me out of the car because we were being followed. Luckily you found me before the hippies caught me." he said, nodding.
It was a little hard to take seriously since he called them "hippies".
"In other words, you were dumped for your protection?" I asked. Zen nodded. "Harsh," I muttered.
He gave a small shrug. "I can't go back." he said at last. "Why not? Wouldn't you be safer with your. . .owners?" I questioned. That felt weird to say. No human being should literally belong to another.
He looked solemnly at his feet. "If you want the full-on, honest truth. . .I was somewhat of a failure." he said. Zen stretched his gorgeous black wings out, the sun catching them and making them look purple. "Those sickos are striving for perfection. White, feathery wings. Mine are black. And mine are actually larger than the ones before me." he said matter-of-factly. "And. . .Well, I'm not much of an Angel, to say the least." he managed, looking away.
What did he mean by that? "So your wings aren't quite right. Why does that mean you can't go back?" I said hesitantly.
"Do you see any Angels walking around normally? If I go back, they'll cut my wings off. My wings are attached to my nervous system and my brain. If they cut them off, I die." Zen said, his usually good-natured voice steely and dripping with rage.
I couldn't help it - I winced. He noticed and looked away again. "Sorry." he said. "It's fine. Zen, you can always stay here with me. Mom is hardly ever here. Maybe for a week or two, and it'd be easy to hide you in this huge house." I offered. "I can't do that. I was practically unconscious when you found me. I wouldn't have been able to get far on two feet. They'll find out I'm here." he said. He reached over and gripped my hand. He pulled me over to him, then placed my hand on his left wing. It felt like he had a broken bone in that wing.
"I can't fly anymore." he said. Zen looked incredibly sad. My heart ached. "Do you trust me? Utterly trust me?" I asked. He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I do, actually." he said after a moment. "Good. I'm calling a vet."
"Linda, please, fix it so it'll heal right." I begged. "Oh, yes, sorry, Stacy. (This was her preferred name for me.) I'll break it back into place."Linda said, rolling her sleeves up. Zen's face paled. "Here, sweetheart, bite on this." Linda said, passing a dishtowel to him. He glanced at me. "It's clean." I said, smiling weakly. "Why? What's it for?" Zen asked. "Just bite it, hon."Linda said.
Zen put it up to his mouth and bit down hard. "One, two, three," Linda counted down, placing her hands on his wing. When she reached three, she brought one of her hands down sharply, her other hand keeping the wing in place.
I could practically see Zen's bone breaking back into place. He had given Linda a sharp scream, which was muffled by the dishcloth.
So that's what it was for. . .
I begged Linda not to tell anyone about Zen. She wanted to ask me everything, but she said she understood Zen needed time to relax, and I needed to sort things out. She left, giving me a huge hug, and finally it was quiet.
I sat down by Zen, who was recovering on the couch. "You know, I don't think I trust you anymore." he joked weakly. I cracked a smile. "Sorry. At least with that, you'll be able to fly again, sooner or later." I said. "Yea, that's true. Thanks." he said. I grinned. "Hey, this is the first time I haven't been alone without my mom." I informed him. He gave me a funny look. "Congratulations," he said humorously. I let myself fall onto his shoulder, all the tension in my body leaving in a whoosh.
~Zen's Point of View~
"This is the first time I haven't been alone without my mom." Anastasia said. I didn't know how to react, so I just said whatever came to mind.
Honestly, I DID trust Anastasia. I hardly slept last night, on the alert just in case she came in and snapped some shots for the Internet or something.
She didn't.
And then she got rid of that girl who was looking for me.
Anastasia dropped onto my shoulder, her eyes closed. I had to look away. Embarrassed? Me? Nooo. . .
In just a few minutes she was lightly breathing, fast asleep.
What should I do? Anastasia was the first human contact (besides "sicko scientists") I've had in years. I was rusty on socialization. I seemed to be doing fine. Sometimes, though, I felt like I didn't know what to say to her.
I wanted to stay on her couch, with her sleeping on me, her tiny form trusting me completely. Like I trusted her.
I wrapped my arms around her, smushing my mouth against her hair. She had NOT treated me like a freak or worse, a monster.
Which I was.
The winged thing, yea, but there is more to me I can't explain. Something I've done before that I never wanted to do again. My little brother would never get to see me again.
And it was my fault.
Man, she smells good. . .
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