Wingless (6 page)

CHAPTER SIX

The Seven Archers

Doctors and nurses flutter in and out of my room for the next day or so. To be honest, I've lost track of time, which is a first for me since I'm constantly counting. I don't really care about much anymore. Time doesn't matter, as I have nothing to look forward to, no goal in my life to pursue, no real direction. Since Micha freed me from the bed, they must assume I'm stable, because they don't force me into cuffs again, which I'm thankful for. My ankles and wrists are still chafed from the first time I was locked in place, and sometimes, when I itch the scabs, I bleed.
 

As far as thankful goes, that's all I can muster.
 

I've never been in so much pain in my life. It drives me mad as needle after needle stabs into my arm, back, and stomach. These aren't just the regular needles we're forced to endure once a year. They're twice the size and length and feel as if they go right through me and out the other side each time they're close. Over and over again, they draw blood and then force me to meditate so I can revive my blood since I'm losing more than normal.
 

At first, I tried to object to meditating on command. I refused to meditate and make myself stronger, because it was pointless since they would just take away my strength again. I refused to comply with their obnoxious demands. But after a while, I gave up resisting. They're stronger than me since they're real Angels, and I'm, allegedly, a mere human with human strength and a human body. Plus, they just shoot me up with some serum that forces me to sleep anyway.
 

I've been alone for a few hours now—the longest time alone since I checked in. Nobody has been in or out or even peeked in the tall, rectangular window. It's oddly quiet around here, and for the first time since I've been admitted, I can hear myself think. In the silence of my stark white room, I crave familiarity.
 

I feel like I'm on the verge of a breakdown when the doors to my room suddenly swing open. One slams against the wall, making pieces of white flecks fall to the ground as it creates a crater like dent. I sit up in my bed, finally having some movement, and stare at the spectacle in front of me.

All seven Archers fly into the room, their feet just two inches above the ground. First is Gabriel, then Uriel. Both are blonde with electric blue eyes. Their heavy presence looms in the air as they come in beside each other, barely fitting through the wide doorframe. Gabriel nods at me in greeting, while Uriel just follows behind him, his face drawn tightly together in what seems like a scowl.
 

Power radiates off of them. I can feel their charged energy, and the closer they get, the more it suffocates me. I want to be like them. I want to have that same thing. But, I never will. I guess I should accept it, but it's just too hard.

Behind the pair is Raphael and his brothers Raguel and Remiel. The trio is almost identical in every way—both personality wise and appearance. Their black wings are exactly the same length and size, shooting up past the top of their heads. They all have brown hair and their eyes are so green, it's like the most magical grass you'd imagine from Earth. The green that the televisions show us pales in comparison.

Last is Saraqael and Michael, the ultimate couple. Saraqael is the only female Archer, and she flaunts it well. Everyone says it's because Rem couldn't create a more perfect woman than her, and seeing her in the flesh, I believe it. Two blonde braids cascade down to her kneecaps in intricate hand-woven designs. She has dark eyes, but when the light from the window hits them just right, they're like liquid gold.

And of course, Michael: dark hair, blue eyes, and the darkest wings of all the Archers. To say he is perfect would be an understatement. I can't help the jealously I feel looking between all of these Angels and then down at myself. I feel pathetic in comparison. I guess it makes sense that I'm human after all.

I sit up a little straighter in the bed and fix my matted down, painfully boring, brown hair. I don't bother to say hi to them. If they've all assembled here, it's for a pretty good reason. The curiosity eats me alive. All of them surround my small lounger in the order they came in, making a 'u' shape around me.

"Hello, Annie. My name is Gabriel, and we've all come to figure out what to do about your situation."
 

"Okay," I answer back quickly, nodding my head.

"Through our tests, it's clear that you are mostly human. While you did not get your wings, you will still carry all of the Angel traits you've had since birth," Gabriel explains.

"So what traits do I have?" I ask, my eyes darting between Micha and Gabriel. They're the only two I trust for some odd reason. Call it natural instinct, but it is what it is. I don't fight it.
 

"Well, from the testing, we've concluded that you'll still have to meditate to regain energy. Solid foods have no effect on you. You'll be a little stronger and faster than humans in general. Other than that, you're just human," Sara speaks up from the edge of the group's semicircle. Her voice entrances me, making me hang on to her every word despite how much I hate what she's saying. It's amazing the affect her softness has on me. I don't like it one bit.

"But I'll never have wings. How will I get around?" I ask. I know I can't be a Fighter anymore, but what am I going to do in the Veil? I can't even get home from here without having to fly. Rem, I'm crippled. I'm going to have to be carted around by Angels and watched constantly to make sure I don't hurt myself. What job can I have? What purpose do I have to the Veil?

"So, this is probably going to be hard to hear," Gabriel starts to say, but Micha cuts him off with a stern sideways look. Micha clears his throat loudly, and I watch him, skeptical of what he's about to say.

"We've discussed the circumstances and have decided that you are going to be sent to Earth to live your life." Micha's the one to break the news to me, but it doesn't make it any less heartbreaking.

"What?!" I yell out, jumping up from the lounger. "How could this—why?" I start pacing around when I can't contain my fury. My hands ball up in fists at my sides as I try to contain my frustrations.

"It would be nearly impossible for you to get around the Veil. Plus, without having a full range of powers, we can't give you a job here. You'd have a better life in Earth, a more fulfilled life," Micha says, hoping to calm me down by reassuring me, but it's worthless. It doesn't work at all since I know Earth is a punishment. The sane parts of my brain shut down, and I'm confused, in complete shock.

"I don't know anything about Earth!" I explode. "What about my family? And friends? Will I even be able to breathe down there?" I pace around the room between Gabriel and Uriel. Everyone's eyes are on me, but I don't even care how I look at this point. How is this happening to me? What did I do to make Rem punish me so badly?

Sara snickers, which makes me stop in my tracks and face her head on. I glare, but then realize it's probably disrespectful so I wipe my face clean before she speaks.
 

"You can breathe there. We're down there fairly frequently, and we're perfectly fine." She even throws up her hands and spins around as if trying to rub her full, black, feminine wings in my face.

"I'm not an Archer. How would I know?" I sneer, unable to hold back my anger.

"As for your family," Gabriel says, getting my attention. "They must remain here. We will allow you back into the Veil once a year for a supervised visit."

"Supervised visit?" I ask them. "Are you kidding me?"

"Listen, we understand your anger and frustration, but this is the only option. We will help you adjust to your new life style. But it's non-negotiable," Uriel speaks for the first time since entering my room. His voice is higher than the others, but it's worse in a way. It scares me with the authority it holds.

"Great," I mutter. I walk back to the lounger and sit on the edge. I try to think through this awful situation and how I can get myself out of it. But it's pretty clear that there's nothing I can do. "What happens now?" I look up and ask, scared of their answers.

"Your family and friends will come and say their goodbyes to you, and then tomorrow you and Micha will travel to Earth, where he'll set you up and get you settled," Gabriel explains, stepping towards me. He places his hand on my shoulder and looks down at me, a reassuring smile on his face. I glance up, and my eyes travel between him and the other Archers. The pity in their eyes haunts me.

"I just want to be alone." I drop my head in my hands and try to cover my disappointment. I don't want the Archers to see me grieve. I don't want them to know of my weakness. They already feel sorry for me, and I don't want them to see me deteriorate any further. I just want to be alone, so I can grasp what's going to happen to me.

When the last Angel leaves the room, I cower into my bed and cry over everything I've lost and will continue to lose.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Goodbyes

I try to prepare myself for my final goodbyes. I convince myself that it'll be like moving to another community. I'd only be able to come to visit my Guardians once a year, maybe twice then. It's nearly the same thing.
 

But once my mother and father step into the room, all of the hard walls I've worked to build up in my moments alone prove pointless. My mother is already crying before I even utter a word, and my father walks in in silence, his face hardened. He's not an emotional person, so to see him visibly hurting hurts me in turn. I hate seeing people cry. My heart squeezes in my chest at seeing my Guardians in this new light.

"Oh, sweetie," my mother cries, rushing towards me where I'm sitting on the hospital lounge. She envelops me in her comforting arms, and I bury my head into her bony shoulder, needing her now more than ever. She's shaking she's crying so hard. I try to hold in my emotions, but the floodgates open involuntarily, and I give up trying.

"I can still come back once a year." I look over my mother's shoulder to my father, who's awkwardly standing near the door. I try to make it seem like it's not a big deal for their benefit, when in fact my entire life is changing course I don't want them to feel bad. I don't want them to think that this is their fault.
 

"We're going to miss you so much," my mother says to me. She pulls me back so we're face to face and rubs the wetness off my cheeks, like it's an embarrassment. She nods, trying to compose herself. Her hands rest on both of my shoulders, and she looks me up and down, as if she was memorizing the way that I look. It scares me.
 

"You're going to be okay." My father comes closer to us and nods his head a hundred times, just like her. He's always been uncomfortable with tragedy or any emotional situation. His specialty is peace, so any conflict knocks him off kilter. He likes things to be perfect, and I guess looking at me just proves that I'm broken—far from perfect.

"I know, I know." I try to convince myself, too.
 

"You need to make friends when you get to Earth. You need to blend in. Humans are extremely fragile, you know."

"What your mother is trying to say is that you'll be fine. Just try to be human, act human, and people will love you. You're strong, and you'll be okay. Use what you've seen in movies and television."

"What do you mean blend in?" I ask them, trying to grasp the concept. They're throwing all this informations at me, and I'm trying my hardest to store it.

"There's a lot on Earth that we don't know about. Rem hides it from us, but I know it will be different than here. Adapt. It's something you've always been good at," my mother tells me, suddenly becoming serious. Her face hardens. Long gone are the tears and out comes a serious woman on a mission. She's giving me everything she has to make sure I succeed wherever I end up.

"Okay, I will," I reassure her, even though I really have no idea what I'm going to do. I haven't gotten that far in my thought processing to think about Earth yet and how I'll have to change who I am.

"We love you, and we'll see you in one year from tomorrow," my mother says.

"One year," I answer back, nodding. They both retreat through the doors they came in. I watch them fly out to the left and leave me for good. My heart sinks at the thought of how alone I am.
 

That meeting didn't go as I thought. I thought maybe they'd be sadder, or confused. It kind of makes me feel like they knew something was coming long before my birth time. My mother is anything but emotionless, so seeing her switch from crying to giving orders is unnerving.
 

I straighten out my outfit as I sit on the lounger, trying to get comfortable, but it's useless. I have no idea who else is going to come visit me and say goodbye. I don't know what the Doms and Archers have been telling people about me. Did they just play it off like no big deal?
 

Before I can think further, Perry waltzes into the room. The color of her outfit takes me aback, and my eyes burn. She's wearing a typical white dress, but a neon pink scarf hangs down the front of her. Immediately, I wonder where she got it.
 

"Girl," she drawls, rushing to my side and wrapping her little arms around me. I swear, there's not an ounce of muscle on this girl. "I'm so sorry," she whispers into my dark curtain of hair.

"It's okay," I reassure her as we separate.
 

"So, I did some digging in the records," she reveals as she sits next to me on the uncomfortable bed. I widen my eyes at her; since she's always getting into trouble. Angels aren't supposed to question Rem and dig around—it's just wrong. At least she's loyal to the core—to me.

"On what?" I ask back, intrigued.

She rolls her dark eyes at me. "Earth, Ann! Here's the information I found. There are colors everywhere, just like on the television. I got this for you to wear," she says and pulls the scarf from her neck. She drapes it around my shoulders, and the pop of color frightens me. "Everything isn't white. Their ground is green, and the sky changes colors: sometimes blue or purple or red."