Feathers Of An Angel

• Mary O'Donnell, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2019

Feathers. That's all that surrounded him. Hundreds and hundreds of feathers. Piling up on each other, falling off the bed and filling the air. The young boy in the center of it all just rolled over in his sleep, his raven black hair falling over his forehead. Then came the knocking at the door.

“C’mon! Wake up! I wanna teach you more tricks!”

The little boy groaned in response, his bright blue eyes fluttering open. He sat up in his bed, seeing the thousands upon thousands of feathers cluttering his room. His mouth dropped open as he took in the mess.

“Gabriel, I believe there is something wrong here.”

“What’s up little buddy?” Gabriel replied opening the door. His words faltered as he saw the feathers.

Black feathers.

Gabriel’s own golden wings ruffled as he scanned the angel before him. His black hair ratty from sleep, his eyes like crystals filled with curiosity, his plain, white sleeping clothes and the new, shiny, black wings now sprouting from his back. He raised his hand, looking at the fledgling for permission before softly brushing his fingers against the feathers.

“Why are they black Gabriel? Why are mine different to everyone elses?”

It was common knowledge among the angels that wings were white. Archangels were the only ones with different coloured wings, like Gabriel’s golden feathers and Micheal’s light blue ones. So for a young fledgling finally developing his wings, finding out that they were different wasn’t cause for celebration.

“I don’t know buddy, but I’m sure there’s a reason.”

“Is it because I’m a soldier?” Came the boy’s mumbled reply.

“I don’t think so bud, or the other angels would have the same colour as you.”

The seraph bowed his head, his wings fluttering anxiously. He didn’t want to be different. Because being different meant being alone, being shunned and being hated. And in Heaven, that was dangerous.

Really dangerous.

He had heard of angels who were different. Heard their pleas as they were dragged off to the cells. Listened to their cries as they were locked down there, the warding keeping them powerless, keeping them human.

As if Gabriel could sense his discomfort, one of the golden wings wrapped around him.

“Its okay buddy, you’ll be okay.”

The little angel smiled, taking a deep breath before flapping his wings, trying to get into the air. It was awkward at first, the rhythm off, but he soon got the hang of it. He grinned wildly as he hovered above the ground, letting out a whoop as Gabriel chuckled.

The black winged angel decided to embrace his differences, no matter how much danger they put him in. He couldn’t change who he was. And as the years passed, he discovered why his wings were black and why he was so peculiar.

He had free will.