Righting The Wrongs

• Zachary Angel, Grade 10, Marymount College
• Short Story
• 2011

Excellence Award in the 'Step Write Up 2011' competition

I watched as the little girl approached the bound angel. I watched from a distance as the little girl approached me.
“Oh,” she cried out in surprise as she entered the cave that I had been exiled to, “Is that the angel?”
We were in deep woods, yet she showed no fear... unless things had changed since I last saw the outside, this place should still be a spooky, un-mapped forest filled with strange beings. One thought screamed out above the others, ‘What on Earth was she doing in a place like this? This is a place of exile; no one deserves to be here.’ Trying to put aside my bitter anguish so I could inspect this girl was a hard trial. After several moments of internal struggling, I managed to regain enough composure to look at her. She was a lot older than I thought she was originally, she looked about 17, she had olive skin, beautiful hazel eyes that seemed to change colour whenever she blinked and wavy brown hair that was the perfect compliment to her eyes.
She walked closer towards me and inspected me. I did too, I hadn’t really looked at my body for a while, 200 years of exile can make you hate a lot more then just the people who put you there. I had cloth over my eyes, presumably so that I couldn't see time passing around me and changing the outside world and I didn’t even remember what colour they were, was it brown? I couldn’t remember, then the girl walked a circle around me, I hadn’t even realised that there was stuff behind me. Maybe I lost a little bit more then just my body during these 200 years. I kept inspecting myself in time with her, my wings were coal-black and tapered off to ash-grey at the bottom, with spots of lighter grey here and there on them as well and more disturbing was the white cloth binding them together, stopping them from being free. She walked back around to the front of my body, I followed her eagerly, not knowing what would happen next. She came even closer to me and raised her hand to my bare chest, I felt her touch vividly and then I felt the cold steel of a God’s punishment. The Chains of Exile shown brightly on my chest now, as if in denial. Shining their rage at the possibility of my being free, white hot, yet eerily cool, I felt the pain they represented clearly. I don’t know what I was expecting, but to my continued surprise, she grabbed the chains and as she did their glow dulled to a dirty white light, gaining confidence, she tore them off. I gasped in pain as the chains snapped and cut across my bare skin in one last act of denial and hatred, leaving bright red lines that dripped tiny droplets of scarlet. She looked at me and whispered "Dusk." Then I felt my ethereal self being dragged gently back into my body, the bound, beaten body of a once beautiful angel. My body reacted the presence of my soul immediately. I focused on the girl in front of me,
"Who are you?" I asked her.
"Lana." She replied quietly.
I nodded to myself, then said "Well, Lana, you may have saved the wrong guy. Revenge must be taken to right the wrongs."
A slow, evil smile replaced Lana's timid one and she said casually
"I think I definitely chose the right guy." Smiling together, we entered the world. Revenge would be oh so sweet.