Pretty Faces and Dark Places

by Rose B Mashal

  One day, I fell in our backyard as I was playing with Sophie when we were ten. There was this little piece of wood that managed to get between my nail and the skin of my finger, and in the ER they had to pull out the nail so it would grow nicely later on. Even with drugs, the pain was unbearable, but pulling my feathers out was a thousand times worse.

  With every feather they pulled out of my wings, I let out a shriek and screamed for them to stop it. They never listened. By the time they were done pulling hundreds of feathers out of my wings, I was out of breath, with no power to scream any more, completely losing hope that Andrew would make them stop the torture.

  “No hint of any black,” I heard Andrew’s mom saying with dissatisfaction. “We’ll have to pull the wings out from the base and wait for new ones to come out.”

  “NO! Please, please, please!” I shouted, but it was like they were deaf to anything I said. I felt two hands on my right wing, and two other hands on my left one. They counted to three and then they started pulling them together, at the same time with the same force. The chain that was tied to my collar kept my back from straightening with the pulling they were doing.

  It was only then that Andrew’s words when he said to me that he had to do it made sense. I thought that he didn’t love me, but him pulling my wings out himself was actually an act of love. He knew that if his family knew, they would do this to me – this is why he didn’t tell his mother. I’d misjudged him. But I still couldn’t help but wish he would make them stop this. Why wasn’t he making them stop? Why? I was suffering, I was hurting – why couldn’t he tell them to stop? Why wasn’t he helping me? Realizing that he truly loved me didn’t make the pain any less agonizing, or mean that I was able to stop screaming, or crying out loud as I saw my blood seeping down to the floor beneath me.

  Finally, they were able to pull my wings out, causing me to release a bloodcurdling scream that sounded all over the room around us. And because apparently I had the worst luck in the universe, I started feeling the now-familiar pain that I’d felt two times before.

  New wings were growing out already.

  Three times. They’d cut my wings off three times. Every time they would pull them out, new wings would grow right back, without even a minute’s delay. All had white feathers, no hint of black ones.

  “Are you sure she’s your soulmate, Andrew?” I heard the fading voice of Andrew’s mom asking. They weren’t that close to me, but the room was so silent that I was able to hear them. Or maybe they were close, I had no idea, I was too weak to even try to figure out their exact location.

  “Of course I’m sure, Mother,” was Andrew’s whispered yet frustrated reply.

  “I don’t know,” his mother said. “I’m giving her one more chance. If the next wings grow in the same way, I have to do what I have to do,” she said. Something told me that it wouldn’t be good, and fear crept into my heart all over again, right then and there.

  “But, Moth–”

  “No buts, Andrew!” his mother interrupted him, her voice strong and speaking volumes of how much power her words had. “If others learn of this, they’ll wonder why I didn’t do what I’m supposed to do the second I saw the white feathers. They’ll question if I let her go with them after three times just because my son thinks she’s his soulmate.”

  “She is my soulmate, Mother,” Andrew insisted with a firm voice, sounding as if he spoke the words through clenched teeth.

  “We’ll see,” his mother replied. “She’s too weak to grow new wings again, so we will have to wait. For now. If they still grow in with white feathers, you know what we will have to do.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Andrew’s voice held some kind of sorrow, and I wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that his mother was promising to do something to me if my new wings also had white feathers – wondering if it could be worse than everything they’d done so far.

  I couldn’t help the fear inside my heart as it changed to pure terror. I dreaded what was to come my way, and the fact that I didn’t know what it was made it even more horrifying.

  How much I wanted to look at Andrew, to see him, see what his eyes held. Maybe they would give me any kind of explanation, any kind of answer about what was to happen to me later, but opening my eyes seemed like carrying tons of weight, and I simply couldn’t do it.

  I was exhausted, drained. I had no energy to do anything, no power or control over my body. Even when Andrew untied my restraints and carried me, I was like a limp noodle in his arms, my head dangling back and my legs dangling down. There was no hope for any inch of my body to move in any way under my orders; it was just – lifeless.

  I felt as Andrew placed me on soft material that I knew to be the same silky sheets I’d slept on before, realizing that he had carried me to the room I was in before I was dragged to the Converting Room.

  And then I felt him as he placed a kiss on my forehead, a soft and warm kiss that lingered for more than just a moment. After that I could no longer sense him in the room, could no longer feel his presence or smell his sweet scent of musk and sandalwood.

  Time went by, and I still felt the same heaviness in my body, though I had no idea why I couldn’t fall asleep. Sleep had always taken over me whenever I was tired, and this time I was completely worn out, but I still couldn’t fall asleep.

  Slowly, I felt like I was getting my energy back, because lifting my arm a bit didn’t feel like carrying the weight of a mountain in it, and opening my eyelids didn’t take as much effort as it had before.

  However, when I opened my eyes, I saw the last person I thought I would see: my best friend.

  “Sophie!” I whispered, reaching with my hand to touch her. She wasn’t within reaching distance, nor was she making it any easier for me to do so – she even took a step back.

  “I miss you,” I tried, my heart aching just thinking of how long I had wished for the moment when I would see her again. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that she wouldn’t want me near here, like she seemed to now.

  Sophie actually snorted, and to my surprise she exclaimed, “Yeah, right!”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. How she could think that I hadn’t missed her or was lying about it was beyond me. I’d spent every day longing for her and crying over the fact that she was no longer with us. It couldn’t be that she doubted my love for her; she was a part of my soul, and she knew it.

  My hand dropped. “Sophie?” my call of her name came out like a question. I wanted an explanation for her words. Surely she couldn’t think that I had lied about missing her – it was impossible.

  “Those pills will help you with the pain. Take them with this glass of honey,” she said with an expression on her face that I’d never seen before in my whole life. It was like she– … no, it couldn’t be. Sophie loved me, I knew she did.

  Right after she said those words, Sophie turned around and left, and I realized that she might not be Sophie at all – her black wings told me so. I wondered if just because she had turned into a demon, she’d lost all of her human feelings. But even if she had – did it mean that she’d lost her human memory as well? Because if she didn’t feel the same for me as she had before, if she no longer thought I was her sister from another mother like she’d always said before – did it mean that she’d forgotten how much I loved her as well? I found that hard to believe.

  The urge to cry grew greater inside of me, but I still found it hard to shed a tear, even harder than before. It felt like crying was an impossible thing to do.

  I heard movement coming from behind me, but I was still too weak to move. Before I could try to turn onto my back, a form came into my vision, and I was able to see that someone was leaving the room. I guessed he was here with Sophie, helping to get the pills and honey or something. For a moment, I thought it was William, but then he turned his head to glance my way and I realized who he actually was.

  “Matthew!” I called, not really wanting anything from him, but for some reaso
n I found myself calling his name.

  Matthew stopped in his tracks, and though he was now staring straight ahead, I could tell that he wasn’t sure if he should come back my way or if he should move on and leave the room.

  I saw him as he clenched his fists and then he turned around, taking a few steps to come closer to the bed. He kneeled, bringing his face to the same level as mine, and surprisingly, his eyes still held the same warmth I’d seen in them last Halloween. His gaze wasn’t as cold as Sophie’s, and it made my heart ache that someone who had gone through everything Sophie had, from converting to growing black wings, could have such kindness in their eyes, and still Sophie couldn’t offer that to me, which meant one thing – Sophie simply didn’t feel the same about me anymore.

  “Hate,” was the one word Matthew said to me.

  Hate? What did he mean by ‘hate’? I was too confused and couldn’t understand what he meant.

  “What?” I whispered my question.

  “Hate, Maya,” Matthew replied. “To grow black wings, you need to hate. Fill your heart with hate and it will be much easier.” And then he was gone.

  Hate? Was that the magic word? If I did as he was telling me – if I hated, would I grow black wings? And would it really be easier? I wondered if it was true.

  But – hate who? How to hate? It sounded like a struggle on its own to do. Because hate sounded like a great deal for me to feel. I didn’t remember ever hating anyone in my entire life, how could I just do it that simply?

  I got lost in my thoughts, thoughts that were mostly about Sophie and what Matthew had said. I kept thinking of how Sophie was able to get herself to hate when she was just like me, if not even more. I couldn’t remember one day where Sophie had told me she hated anyone. It was just very unlikely for me to believe that Sophie could hate.

  I started to feel better with every new moment passing. Turning around in bed didn’t sound like a big deal anymore, and as the minutes passed – I managed to sit up on the bed. I was getting my energy back. And that made me wonder if I was going to grow new wings now; the thought scared me. I didn’t think I could handle any more pain, and I had no idea what I would do if the wings grew in white. Andrew’s mom had said she was giving me only one more chance, and the fact that I didn’t know what she would do, besides cutting my wings off if they were white, scared me even more – I was terrified.

  Eventually, I was able to get out of bed, feeling a little dizzy when I first stood up, which caused me to actually sway a bit. I think if it wasn’t for the strong hands that held me by the waist I would’ve fallen back to the bed.

  I opened my eyes to meet the clear green that was Andrew’s eyes. They held so much compassion in them when they looked into my blue ones. His voice was filled with sweetness when he asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, just a little dizzy, is all,” I answered softly. Because his touch was so gentle and his eyes were so warm, I almost forgot that I was mad at him. I just went with what my heart was telling me to do – to hug him tightly and get lost in the feel of his closeness. Almost.

  I jerked Andrew’s hands away and turned to go to the bathroom, maybe thinking about locking myself inside for a while. After all, I needed to gather my thoughts, which were going in every direction.

  “Maya, wait!” Andrew stopped me, his hand catching my own. He gently pulled me to face him again. “Are you still mad at me?” he asked.

  The fact that he said the word ‘still’ made me aware that he knew I now understood why he’d cut my wings off before. He’d done it because he wanted me to feel less pain. He’d known that if anyone else pulled them out, I would go through much greater pain. He’d known that he would be protecting me from going through the fear and agony that I’d gone through when those two demons cut my wings off, but still … I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t simply stopped them. I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t asked to do it himself; it would’ve been a lot easier, though still hurt like hell.

  “It doesn’t matter what I feel,” I told him, my tone holding so much sadness, and my words telling how upset I really was.

  Andrew’s hands came up to hold my face between them, and a long moment passed before I raised my gaze to stare into his beautiful eyes before he finally spoke. “Beautiful Maya,” he started, and just the two words were able to warm my insides and send calmness over my heart. “I did it for you. I had to cut your wings off because I knew it would’ve been a hundred times worse if someone else did. Please, believe me,” he begged.

  I’d already believed him even before he asked me to. I’d already known why he did it, and I’d already forgiven him for doing it, but I couldn’t get over the fact that he didn’t stop them, so I told him exactly that. “You could’ve stopped them. You could’ve told me you had to do it again, and I would’ve understood why if you’d explained. You could’ve saved me from the pain they put me through, but you just stood there and watched. You didn’t do anything, Andrew.” Hurt filled my voice.

  “Beautiful, beautiful Maya, how could you think that?” He sounded genuine as he explained, “It was breaking my heart to see you this way, but there was nothing I could do. I don’t have the right to cut your wings off. If others knew that I had, they would think that you were a danger to our kind and they would finish you off. This is something that would never be acceptable to me. Never!”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, a frown of confusion on my forehead.

  Andrew sighed, “We have laws. We respect rules more than anything; rules and laws protects our rights and protect us, so we always obey them and stick to them. Our kind is threatened by other – creatures that have white wings, and they weaken when their wings are cut off. But the only ones who are allowed to do that are those two who cut your wings off. Only they have the power to do it, and they do it on my mother’s orders, as she is the ruler of our kind. If other demons learned that I cut your wings off, they would think that you were a threat, so I had to act fast. They would kill you, Maya, and that is a no go for me. I can’t live without you. I would kill them all!” His eyes darkened as he said the last words, but he managed to control his anger and force them back to their normal green.

  “Oh!” was all I said as I tried to understand what he’d just told me. I couldn’t help the tightening in my chest as the meaning of his words settled in. It turned out to be much greater than I’d thought. He didn’t stop them because he had no right to do so; he had to keep the rules and laws obeyed as far as anyone else knew.

  “I could never tell them that I’d already cut off your first wings, Maya, please believe me,” he pleaded.

  “I believe you,” I replied honestly.

  Andrew nodded with a soft smile, his thumbs brushing my cheeks tenderly. “Your next wings will be black. They will grow strong and powerful just like my love for you, and then we will put all of this pain behind us and start our life together, Maya. It’s going to be the best life ever,” he promised, and I couldn’t help but smile softly at the sound of his words.

  When he saw my smile, Andrew took me in his arms, hugging me tightly and kissing the top of my head. I hugged him back maybe just as tightly, inhaling the soft scent of his, the scent that reminded me of our night together and how much love I’d felt. But then the thoughts started to form quickly in my head with the new information I’d just learned. New questions needed to be answered, and I had to ask, “Andrew?”

  “Yes, Love.”

  “What are those other creatures which are a threat to your kind?” I wondered.

  I heard Andrew as he took a deep breath, paused for a moment or two, and then he replied, “Angels.”

  I took a quick shower and then got dressed in another pair of black jeans and a strapless black top. I loved that there was a door inside of the bathroom that led to the closet, because believe it or not, for some reason I was too shy to go out into the bedroom with only a towel around my body while I knew Andrew was there.

  When I stepped out of the closet
, I found Andrew standing in the middle of the room, waiting for me. His face broke into a wide grin when his eyes landed on me, and I couldn’t help but mirror it. He took the few steps that separated us and then held my hands when he stood right in front of me.

  “You look so beautiful, Maya,” he said, before kissing the back of my hands – one gentle kiss on the back of each hand, tender kisses that sent warmth over my heart, and it had nothing to do with the heat that was coming from his body.

  I smiled shyly. “Thank you,” I said, wondering how I could look so beautiful in his eyes when I just had my hair in a loose ponytail, not in a fancy style or anything. I still couldn’t help the feelings that filled my heart at the realization that I was beautiful in his eyes, no matter what I was dressed in or how my hair was styled. His words made me believe so.

  Andrew then let go of my hands and walked over to the nightstand, where he picked up the glass of honey and the pills that Sophie had brought for me. When he was standing before me again he offered them to me. “You need to take these pills, Beautiful. It will help you with the pain,” he said.

  “Um … but I feel fine,” I said. I didn’t know why, but the thought of drinking anything sounded unpleasant in my head.

  “It’s good that you feel fine, but you will feel great pain when the new wings come out. These pills will help you with that, and the honey will help make them work faster,” Andrew explained.

  “Uh … ” I still wasn’t sure about putting anything in my mouth, but I didn’t want to decline Andrew’s request, not when he was looking at me with those pleading eyes of his.

  I took the pills from his hand with a smile I managed to put there just for Andrew’s sake, but that smile disappeared and was replaced with a grimace once I put the pills in my mouth and tasted the awful flavor of them.

  I quickly reached for the glass of honey and took it from Andrew’s hand, bringing it to my mouth, hoping that the sweet taste of the honey would help me remove the horrible taste of the pills. I was wrong.