Broken Wings

The rain thundered heavily from the sky, lightening flashing constantly beneath the clouds; casting shadows across the tall, crooked buildings. Only the sound of the rain slamming hard against the stone cobbled streets could be heard for miles around. You could just make out a church spire through the thick fog, towering ominously above the two figures which stood in the graveyard.

It was only a small graveyard, no more than ten graves, each of the dishevelled, bare stones slowly decomposing, the names faded away so it was hard to tell the ‘E’s from the ‘F’s. It didn’t help that it was still within the early hours of the morning, so dark that the little boy could not see the tears that stained the smooth, pale skin of the woman’s face.

She was beautiful; her long red hair fell limply to her side, dampened by the wind, she looked almost like an angel. Her eyes were a light shade of amber, though they looked far off into a distant memory, at a time when those eyes would have glimmered and shone.

She turned to the boy, her heart twisting into millions of knots, as the guilt crept into her mind. How could she leave him, her only child, HIS only child all alone in this cruel world? The boy looked up at her with his innocent blue eyes; they stared deep into her soul, questioning her very existence. In that instance, she didn’t want to leave.

She pushed the thought away. She had to leave, after all that had happened, he was better off without her. He would grow up to hate her, but that was the price she had to pay to protect him. He would be taken into the parish church, protected by them, and no-one would ever know he was their son; no-one will ever come looking for him. She reached around her neck, unclasping the tiny, silver chain. It was a locket, one of a kind, its long threads of silver intricately woven together into the shape of a cross.

She placed the locket over the boy’s neck, then looked him straight in the eyes whispering
“Be safe” Her whole body was shaking, tears welling up in her eyes. She forced herself away from the boy. She bent down over the grave; you could just make out the word ‘Betrayal’ hidden by the moss. A silver dagger lay under a cluster of stones, where she had placed it many years ago, always leaving the option open.

She picked it up, thinking of how she had never intended this to happen. Her whole life had been a rollercoaster of ups and downs, but she always felt like she was watching it happen, like she had been drifting in and out of a dream, and now was the time to wake up. Wherever she was going though, she hoped she would be able to meet him again, both of them.

Her fingers were wrapped around the handle, trembling with fear. She didn’t look back at the boy, she only thought of the love she had been blessed to experience in this lifetime. Her whole body shook with pain, thick red blood spread like fire across the ground.
The boy stepped back, panic entering his eyes. He had no understanding of what was happening, but he felt a strange discomfort throughout him, like someone was crushing his heart very tightly, a wash of loneliness swept through him.

The woman was still on the ground, an eerie silence echoing through the air. The boy stood rooted to the spot, unaware that he was only ten feet above where his father lay. He couldn’t move anymore, unaware of how much time was passing, the sun slowly rising from its twilight, watching as the angel lost her wings.