6th Drink:: Angel Freak

Liquefied fear slices down her spine and spills out black, tainted blood splashing to the grass beneath her bare feet.

“What do you mean, I can’t fly?” 

Mangled feathers deformed with the sticky denial of freedom spread wide while dripping grey sludge to soft earth. “Watch me then, I’ll prove you wrong!”

And then she lept from the cliff.

Her legs weighed her down and her chest greedily sucked in too much of the crimson morning air. She was not graceful in her movements, desperate to shift handicapped will. The sight was ugly at best. Yet a powerful rage stained her pale eyes, and her mouth pulled in a tight line of determination. That terror still ripped between those contorted wings and sliced straight down her spine, spilling in a torrent like a tail behind her.

She didn’t appear to register the fact that she was bleeding to death high above the scorn.

My god she was beautiful. Ugly looked good on the angelic abomination. Even as she tumbled from the sky.