Angel in Disguise
Wings.
October 31,1992. Dallas, Texas
A little five year old girl with large blue eyes, wavy brown hair, and the cutest little dimples was skipping down the sidewalk in her pretty pink ballet costume. She was holding her mother’s hand as she walked up to one of the houses to collect her candy. She shied into her mother’s side. “Twick or Tweet,” she said cutely.
“Aw,” the older woman cooed, giving the little girl extra candy. “Aren’t you just the cutest little thing?” The little girl smiled sweetly, enjoying the compliment.
“What do you say, Angel?” Her mother asked, nudging her slightly.
“Tank you,” she said before shoving her thumb in her mouth shyly.
“Atta girl,” her mother said. Angel grinned widely up at her, and they went to another house.
Four hours later, a stuffed little girl curled up in her bed, her tummy slightly aching from all the candy she had eaten. She groaned slightly when a pain hit her back. That confused her. Eating a lot made your tummy hurt. Not your back, she thought. She tried to sit up, but another sharp pain tore at her shoulder blades. She fell back to the bed in shock. A couple seconds later, she heard a ripping sound, and her back felt like it was being torn. A scream escaped her lips. “Momma! Daddy!” She screamed, terrified. What was happening?
Her door bust open, and her parents barreled their way through. “Angel, what’s-” Her mother’s voice cut off by a loud gasp. “Oh my God! Our daughter’s a freak!” Her mother screeched. The little girl looked up in shock. A freak?
“Momma?” She asked, starting to crawl towards her. Her mother took a step back, eyes widened in fear. The girl stopped, and dropped back to the ground, another scream tearing from her lips. Cracks and screams could be heard echoing throughout the room as her bones changed, rearranging themselves. Tears ran down the little girl’s face and through the haze of pain and confusion she saw her parents staring at her disgust.
“What the hell are we supposed to do with her now?” Her father asked. She looked up confused. The man that had stood by her side all through her short five years, the man that had protected her from ever getting too hurt, the man that she loved dearly, was looking at her like she was disgusting. What was so disgusting about her? She sat up slowly, and was shocked by how easily she managed to lift herself up. She looked around, and noticed light peach wings sprouting out of her back. Her eyes widened.
“Momma, I’m an Angel!” She said, her Texas accent thick with wonder. Her mother just shook her head.
“No, you are not, Angelina. You are NOT an Angel.” The girl frowned.
“But, I got wings,” she protested.
“Brian, please call that school. I don’t want her here anymore,” her mother said.
“Alright, Adrienne,” her father said, quickly exiting the room.
While her parents bustled around, packing all of her belongings in suitcases and loading them into the cab they called for her, the little girl was sitting on her bed, cross-legged, playing with her stuffed bunny, Elmo. By this time, her wings were not out, and looked like small tattoos on her back.
“Angelina, let’s go!” Her father called. She went down the stairs slowly and stopped in front of her parents, looking up at them.
“Am I gonna see you again?” She asked. Her mother shook her head.
“No, Angelina. You will not,” she said coldly, and walked away. The girl bit her quivering bottom lip, and looked towards her father.
“Daddy?” She asked.
“I am no longer your father, Angelina. We are no longer your parents. No go,” he said, and gave her shove out of the door. “The man driving the cab knows what you are, but do not show him and scare him.” He shut the door in her face, and the tears fell.
She took the cab to the airport, where she had to take a plane to Westchester County, New York.
November 1, 1992. Westchester County, New York
The cab pulled up to a large mansion, and a man in a wheel chair was waiting for her. “Hello, Angelina. My name is Professor Xavier,” the man said.
“Hello,” the little girl said timidly.
“You do not have to be afraid here, child. No one here will hurt or judge you. You are among friends, now.”
“What’s….what’s wrong with me? Why don’t momma and daddy want me anymore?” She asked, her eyes tearing up. A few people walked past them, and to the car to take out her luggage.
“Angel, there is nothing wrong you,” he said. “Sending you here was the best option for you, even if you can’t understand that yet. You are very special, Angel,” he whispered, and held out his hand. He gripped it tightly with her right hand, and sucked on her left thumb, looking around. “Welcome to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.”
Wings
Tattoo
A little five year old girl with large blue eyes, wavy brown hair, and the cutest little dimples was skipping down the sidewalk in her pretty pink ballet costume. She was holding her mother’s hand as she walked up to one of the houses to collect her candy. She shied into her mother’s side. “Twick or Tweet,” she said cutely.
“Aw,” the older woman cooed, giving the little girl extra candy. “Aren’t you just the cutest little thing?” The little girl smiled sweetly, enjoying the compliment.
“What do you say, Angel?” Her mother asked, nudging her slightly.
“Tank you,” she said before shoving her thumb in her mouth shyly.
“Atta girl,” her mother said. Angel grinned widely up at her, and they went to another house.
Four hours later, a stuffed little girl curled up in her bed, her tummy slightly aching from all the candy she had eaten. She groaned slightly when a pain hit her back. That confused her. Eating a lot made your tummy hurt. Not your back, she thought. She tried to sit up, but another sharp pain tore at her shoulder blades. She fell back to the bed in shock. A couple seconds later, she heard a ripping sound, and her back felt like it was being torn. A scream escaped her lips. “Momma! Daddy!” She screamed, terrified. What was happening?
Her door bust open, and her parents barreled their way through. “Angel, what’s-” Her mother’s voice cut off by a loud gasp. “Oh my God! Our daughter’s a freak!” Her mother screeched. The little girl looked up in shock. A freak?
“Momma?” She asked, starting to crawl towards her. Her mother took a step back, eyes widened in fear. The girl stopped, and dropped back to the ground, another scream tearing from her lips. Cracks and screams could be heard echoing throughout the room as her bones changed, rearranging themselves. Tears ran down the little girl’s face and through the haze of pain and confusion she saw her parents staring at her disgust.
“What the hell are we supposed to do with her now?” Her father asked. She looked up confused. The man that had stood by her side all through her short five years, the man that had protected her from ever getting too hurt, the man that she loved dearly, was looking at her like she was disgusting. What was so disgusting about her? She sat up slowly, and was shocked by how easily she managed to lift herself up. She looked around, and noticed light peach wings sprouting out of her back. Her eyes widened.
“Momma, I’m an Angel!” She said, her Texas accent thick with wonder. Her mother just shook her head.
“No, you are not, Angelina. You are NOT an Angel.” The girl frowned.
“But, I got wings,” she protested.
“Brian, please call that school. I don’t want her here anymore,” her mother said.
“Alright, Adrienne,” her father said, quickly exiting the room.
While her parents bustled around, packing all of her belongings in suitcases and loading them into the cab they called for her, the little girl was sitting on her bed, cross-legged, playing with her stuffed bunny, Elmo. By this time, her wings were not out, and looked like small tattoos on her back.
“Angelina, let’s go!” Her father called. She went down the stairs slowly and stopped in front of her parents, looking up at them.
“Am I gonna see you again?” She asked. Her mother shook her head.
“No, Angelina. You will not,” she said coldly, and walked away. The girl bit her quivering bottom lip, and looked towards her father.
“Daddy?” She asked.
“I am no longer your father, Angelina. We are no longer your parents. No go,” he said, and gave her shove out of the door. “The man driving the cab knows what you are, but do not show him and scare him.” He shut the door in her face, and the tears fell.
She took the cab to the airport, where she had to take a plane to Westchester County, New York.
November 1, 1992. Westchester County, New York
The cab pulled up to a large mansion, and a man in a wheel chair was waiting for her. “Hello, Angelina. My name is Professor Xavier,” the man said.
“Hello,” the little girl said timidly.
“You do not have to be afraid here, child. No one here will hurt or judge you. You are among friends, now.”
“What’s….what’s wrong with me? Why don’t momma and daddy want me anymore?” She asked, her eyes tearing up. A few people walked past them, and to the car to take out her luggage.
“Angel, there is nothing wrong you,” he said. “Sending you here was the best option for you, even if you can’t understand that yet. You are very special, Angel,” he whispered, and held out his hand. He gripped it tightly with her right hand, and sucked on her left thumb, looking around. “Welcome to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.”
Wings
Tattoo
♠ ♠ ♠
Yes, the plot bunny has hopped my way again. This is a trial story. Please message me or comment to let me know which direction I should take with this story. Every comment helps. Comment? Message? Subscribe? Thanks.