Angel In the
Wings

(copyrighted: weilin the geek goddess)

In this world, we strive for knowledge, for information. Scientists in labcoats and goggles pressure themselves to find the cure for cancer, teachers in schools spoon feed the students things they have repeated for many years, all female alike prey on gossip hungrily like the way vultures pick at carcasses.

There is always a price to pay for knowing too much.
--

She sat at the swing, legs hanging off the ground, head bent.

Rolling my eyes, i restrained my hyper little sister as she tried to tear my arm off when running towards the slide. Her ponytails bopping, she skipped with a lollipop in her mouth. Tsk, little kids. Their innocence sicken me.

I let my eyes wander towards that forlorn girl one more time. About 14 i would say from her frame, but her short black hair shielded her face from me. Yet another love sick teenager perhaps, crying from not seeing her boyfriend for let's say, one minute. Or those arty farty types, trying to draw inspiration. I would love to see them come into the real world.

As my sister played, I kept a watchful eye over her while reading, my gaze flickering towards the strange girl every once in a while. She sat there in her rumpled long skirt and t shirt, looking fragile and vulnerable. She never moved an inch. I still could not see that face of hers. About half an hour later, my four year old retard of a sister (sometimes referred to as Shaina) barrelled head first into me all sticky, whether from perspiration or that lollipop, I didn't want to know.

Casting one last glance towards the girl on the swing, I piggy backed Shaina and headed towards the lift, back to the tiny fourth story flat overlooking the playground. Back to the claustrophobic place that quickens my heart beat and shortens my breath, back to cooking dinner and waiting for our parents to come home, back to the real world.
--

After dinner, I retreated to my closet, I mean, room.

Propping my head on my arms, I looked towards the sky. My home being on the fourth story, I wasnt able to see much sky from the windows.But the dark night crowded with red clouds tempted me still. A part of the sky was furtively revealed to me, tempting me to reach towards it and explore the great perhaps. Just a small part, but enough. But it was too far away, always too far away.

It started to rain. Heavy painful raindrops that struck with a vengenance. Sighing, i started closing the windows. However, not before i spotted a familiar figure with short black hair, legs hanging off the ground, head bent, at the swing.

Don't tell me she has been there since evening. I stared down at her. The rain was soaking her, bit by bit. Her black hair fell flat and stuck to her face, her long black skirt deflected raindrops and her t shirt turned a shade darker. It started to rain even harder, seeming as if it was mocking her. Every drop of rain looked as if it could shatter her like a stone could shatter a window.

My heart was too soft, it went out to her. She reminded me too much of somebody I knew too well.
--

Grabbing an umbrella from the shoe rack, i ran downstairs. Ohoh, I was starting to regret this. What if she thought I was a stalker?

I stood at the lift lobby and hesitantly opened my umbrella. I walked towards her silently and held the umbrella over her head.

A good 15 minutes passed as I stood there. She never looked up, never acknowledged my presence, let alone thanking me for coming to all this trouble.

I kneeled in front of her and slowly picked up her cold hand in her lap.

I knew how it felt like to be her, to be all alone in the world, to be so beyond caring that you could sit in the rain and not notice something was washing your tears away. The thoughts in your head swirl and all you could feel after that was a bone hollow numbing sensation.

Her stiff and unwielding hand slowly warmed and curled around mine.
Slowly, I stood up, bringing her to a stand as well. Sitting here drenched was not a solution, no matter how fitting it seemed at that time.

My first impression was that she was small, very small. Small as in short. She barely came up to my shoulders. Lifting her head, she looked up at me. Yes i was right, about 14 years old. But her bloodshot eyes seemed to tell me tales that made her age dramatically, deep dark eyes that were comparable to an abyss, a never ending hole of darkness. Those very eyes now looked at me questioningly, with a tinge of desperation.

No matter, she was safe with me. I had done this before.

The rain stung my skin, as I pulled her into the dry hdb void deck. Seating her down at one of those mosiac tables where old men gathered to play chess in the day, I said to her gently "wait for me, i'd be back."

I sprinted towards the lift landing and into the lift. I tapped my fingers impatiently as the old creaky lift squeaked itself to the fourth story. Running into the flat, my parents barely noticed me as they exchanged knowing looks with one another. They knew my routine by now. I grabbed a clean towel from my room, a bottle of water and a few dollars from my wallet. I took the lift down and walked towards her. Putting the towel around her shoulders and the bottle of water in front of her, I repeated what I last said to her.

Next stop : 7 Eleven, It's a store and more.

"Hey," Eric the night shift 7 Eleven cashier, said and gave me a nod. I've come to know Eric after several of these runs. Buying a bar of dark chocolate and two cups of those yummy instant mash potatos, I returned to the void deck, half expecting her to be gone with the wind. But she was still there, shivering slightly and wrapping the towel tighter around her.

Sittng down opposite her, I placed a cup of mash potatos and the chocolate in front of her.

.

.

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