• I always wished i could have the wings of an angel, even as an adult. I never thought i would have my wish fufilled, even when Damien threw me through the window. we had been married in that church and it was the place i always ran to when he got violent. i can still remember the sting of the glass as it tore into my skin.
    He had chased me to the church and put me through the window. I had never thought him capable of actually killing me. I knew he was violent but i just ignored it, pretended that it was nothing. Even when i opened my eyes, i still denied the truth.
    In death i had been granted my wish, but instead of feathers my wings were made of glass. The same glass I had been tossed through like a ragdoll.
    I had wanted wings, but not like this, there cold smooth surface chills me and forces me to remember that my denial is what ended my life.
    I still try to pretend, to make myself see Damien as a loving man never capable of such a thing. Even when i see the cracked glass pertruding from my back. Even when the suns warm glow grows cold as it passes through their yellow surface.
    I wish i had never wanted to be like an angel.