Free On Black Wings by Sylvia Storm Page A

with every step he makes towards me. “B-Brad.”
    “You did this. Maybe you are some angel of death making this happen.” He speaks with his teeth flat together. “Maybe this is your wish coming true.”
    He’s a different man, full of hatred and not the Brad I know. I’m searching his eyes, trying to find a reason for why this is happening, for something I did, for something. I don’t know.
    I just don’t know anymore.
    He’s walking towards me, and stops when I hit the wall. He’s not even crying, his eyes hollow, and his expression gaunt. He moves his lips like he has something to add to his assault, the muscles on his neck spasming, and his left eye fluttering.
    I turn away. I don’t, I don’t know this man.
    I hide behind my wing, in the corner of the living room, crying my guts out. How could he turn on me? Why? I’m wiping my nose on my shirt and sniffling. I’m just so confused, and adrift in a sea of lost emotions.
    “Why don’t you just keep hiding?” His voice trails off. “No, no help-”
    Why does he have to keep hurting me?
    What did I do?
    I rest my head against the wall. Does he hate me that much? Does he think I hate the kids? I loved them, I love them, and I’ll do anything to bring them back.
    Even sacrifice myself.
    I peer out. Brad’s head is against the patio door, looking out at the ash falling like snow, his face lit by a pale shade of gray. He’s not moving, just pressing against the glass, and his hands are like spiders as he tries to bring back things dead to him.
    He’s given up on me.
    Do you hit a blind person who strikes out at you because they are afraid? Do you gag a patient in pain so much they can’t stop screaming? Or do you just let the sorrow settle into your heart, step back, and do the best you can to give them comfort from a distance?
    I forgive you Brad.
    Please have it in your heart to forgive me.
    I stand up.
    “Brad.” I wipe my mouth and nose. “Try to remember what you loved about me.”
    “I don’t know you.” His voice is low, quavering. “I don’t know what to think.”
    It’s so hard for me to control my rage. This is not my fault. I pause a moment. What if it is?
    I don’t care if it is or not, I will make it right.
    “I’m coming back for you.” I pause, too angry to spit. I grit my teeth, a snarl on my angry lips.
    “And my family.”
    The next instant, I’m gone.

CHAPTER XII:
    The Moment Loses Me
     
    I’m standing on green grass, with warm blue skies above me, and a pastoral glade of trees surrounding me. The air is cool too, the sun hot, and it feels like a perfect day. A soft breeze rustles the trees.
    I feel the air take my wings, softly blowing and catching my feathers in the breeze. There’s no ash here, no death, and no darkness. It is a beautiful day.
    Only I’m staring at my own grave.
    Tombstones surround me in the bright green grass, thousands of them covered by the names of lives the world just wants to forget. Just die and let’s move on. Next to my grave are predictably ones for my husband, and our children.
    I should have known I would be staring at these. We all die. Maybe I am dead, and I’m just going through Hell before I’m judged. Maybe I died in my sleep and never woke up, and these are the last few microseconds of my brain misfiring and giving me one last strange flash of a dream before I’m gone forever.
    All my fears, all my hate, all my confusion and self-doubt are coming back to me in spades.
    I’m moving around in time again, or to different places, and I cannot control it. Please God help me. What is happening to me?
    A dark shadow looms over me, easily dwarfing me, stretching from somewhere behind me all the way past my headstone. I don’t want to turn, I don’t want to even see this hideous torture inflicted upon me by some nightmare dream.
    In some ways, one of me has the better deal right now.
    “Hello,” I say to the shadow, enjoying the day, letting the black feathers of my wings rustle