#FlashMobWrites Week 1×33 : I’m Not An Angel In Disguise

I’m not an angel in disguise,
And the devil never made me do a thing,
Or told me what to say.
I’m just an angry, mortal man,
Made by our society’s hand,
And its ruthless,
Uncaring ways.

I’ll stalk the words others write,
The songs they sing,
The stories they tell,
The games the play.
And take each detail apart,
Analyze each word,
Each action,
Every note, motion, and way.
I’ll study each nuance of your ways,
Until I master the unique language
Only you speak.

The one you don’t even know is there.

Once I have that key to you,
Who you are,
How you think,
What you feel.
It won’t be long until I know what’s missing
In your world.

Then I’ll say the words I know
You want someone to say.
The words you’ve been waiting,
Someone would say.
Words to sweep you off your feet,
And carry you away.
Words you dream of in your sleep.

And you’ll let me in.

I’ll be your friend at first,
But gradually, with time, and effort,
Using what I’ve learned of you,
I’ll do the things you want me to.
And slowly, things will grow.

One day, you’ll start to talk to me.
Start to let me in.
I’ll become your confidant,
That someone whom you trust.
I won’t take advantage,
Or rush things along.
I have time.
I’ll wait for things to happen
On their own.

One day you’ll sit next to me,
As if you always had.
One day you will hold my hand,
And walk with me,
And talk with me,
So you won’t be alone.
I’ll learn the holidays that matter.
When your birthday is.
When to buy you a card,
Or flowers.
And step by step,
Day by day,
I’ll work my way into your world.
By being everything you want,
And everything you need.

I’ll be the one you dream of when you sleep.
The one you always wanted,
The one hold in his arms,
Where you feel safe from harm.

All it takes is patience on my part,
And you’ll let me in,
And give me everything I want.

Someday you might kiss me,
Then take me to your home.
I won’t have to ask,
You’ll guide me there
On your own.

Someday you might even
Take off all your clothes,
And pull me into bed with you.

And I’ll enjoy anything,
And everything,
You decide to do.

But if I ever hear you say
“I love you,” to me,
I’ll be gone with the rising sun.
And you’ll be on your own.

Isn’t that the way this life is?
Aren’t we meant to shred
The hearts and souls around us
Until every heart becomes
Colder than the coldest ice,
Harder than the hardest stone?

I’m not an angel in disguise,
And the devil never made me do a thing.
I’m just an angry, wounded soul
Whose heart died long ago.

491 Words

This is my entry into #FlashMobWrites 1×33, hosted by Ruth Long and Cara Michaels. Please, go read all the stories in for #FlashMobWrites 1×33. You might find something you like. But if you don’t read them, how will you ever know?


Fairies : Half-Breed

She just walked into the clearing by the lake one day. No one saw her coming. No one knew who she was. She had no name. She looked fully grown. And somehow, she looked like a little girl. With that little girl innocence. She had raven red hair, and the bluest eyes you could imagine.She was a fairy. At least she looked like a fairy. But there was something about her that wasn’t fairy like. There was a grace, an elegance that not even Rose had. Her wings were blue. And feathered, like the wings of an angel. But they were shaped just like fairy wings.

And, whoever she was, she was completely naked.

She walked across the clearing, to the edge of the lake, and knelt. She looked into the water, and she smiled. Then she began to cry. Quietly. With the same grace, and elegance everyone could see when she walked.

At first, no one knew what to do. Or even what to say. Rose, Dream, Flora, Fauna, Chrissy, Lilly and Sunshine stayed at the edge of the clearing, and watched. Musica, the eldest of the girls, took out her flute, and began to play. A quiet little tune that reminded every one of the sound of water in a mountain stream as it flowed across the rocks and boulders in its way. As she played, she walked from the edge of the forest, to the lake, until she was standing next to the stranger.

Musica just kept playing.

Sunshine walked out of the forest, and she too approached the lake. As she did, the sun itself seemed to shine down on the stranger as she cried. As if it was trying to comfort her. Calm her. Keep her safe, and warm.

Rose followed their lead. She flicked her wings, and floated just above the ground, across the clearing. She stopped when she reached the stranger, and while hovering there, gently placed a hand on the stranger’s shoulder. Then Rose used her wings, as only she could. She danced. In the sky. Just above the lake. Every now and then, letting a wingtip trace a pattern in the lake’s surface. Every movement she made matching the tune Musica played.

Sunshine placed an arm around the stranger’s shoulders, and she spoke. “I’m Sunshine. These are my sisters, Musica and Rose. We live here at the lake.” At least the tears no longer fell from the stranger’s eyes. “May I ask your name?”

“I haven’t got a name.”

Everyone knew that could only mean one thing. The stranger was special in some way. Like each of them. Unique. Different. And misunderstood. Abandoned by her parents. Her family. Each of the fairies remembered the pain they’d felt in their hearts and souls. Each of them remembered their own stories.

Sunshine stood, offering a hand to the stranger. “You are always welcome here,” she smiled. Then she looked at Musica, the tallest of the fairies, “Perhaps Musica can find you something to wear?”

And so the day began. The fairies found clothing for the stranger in their midst. It was too small, of course. After all, she was full-grown. The clothing barely covered her breasts. And the skirt wasn’t really a skirt at all. It was a bed sheet, tied around her waist. Both were blue and white. They couldn’t find any sandals that were large enough to fit her feet, so she went barefoot.

The fairies fed her berries, cheese, and jerky. Taking care of her. Making sure she had plenty to eat, and plenty to drink. The stranger smiled. And somehow, when she did, everything seemed alright.

The stranger was indeed full-grown. Her wings were fully developed, and she could fly. Not as well as Rose, of course, but the stranger could fly very well indeed. She couldn’t hover though. Not many fairies could. Rose was one of the few blessed with that much flying skill. But the stranger could ride the air currents. The fairies, even Rose, couldn’t help but notice the grace and elegance of every movement she made through the sky.

Everyone laughed. And had a wonderful time. They even went swimming in the lake. That night Musica let the stranger stay in her home, and Musica stayed with Sunshine.

The next morning, Mystica returned. She watched from her home on the far side of the lake as the fairies all woke up. You can imagine her surprise when the first fairy she saw wasn’t a fairy at all, but the stranger as she came out of Musica’s house. Mystica sensed no danger at all. The white magic indicated everything was safe. So, she stood on her front porch, and watched.

The stranger walked across the clearing, to the edge of the lake. There, she stripped everything off, and walked into the water, where she quietly bathed. Mystica noticed the elegance, and the grace in every move the stranger made.

Merlin, the black magic dragon, came out of the shadows, as he always did. Appearing out of nowhere. “Do you know what she is?” he asked of Mystica.

“I’ve never seen anyone like her? Is she a fairy?”

Merlin sighed. “Only in part. Only in part.” Merlin watched the stranger as she bathed. “She is very rare, White Witch. Very rare indeed.”

“In what way?”

“Let the white magic tell you. It will, if you ask.”

Mystica closed her eyes, and wished, “Who is this stranger in our midst?” The surface of the water of the lake began to change. It showed two pictures. One of a female angel. A real angel. The kind with feathered wings. The other of a fairy warrior. Mystica watched as the images told the story of the angel’s fall from the sky. Of the warrior finding her. Mending her wounds. Treating the broken bones in her wings.

It was the story of a forbidden love. Love between an angel and a fairy. The angel never returned to the sky above. The fairy abandoned everything he was. The two of them finding a home of their own in the ice and snow to the north. Where the elves lived. And with time, the angel bore a child. A daughter. Half angle. Half fairy.

Mystica realized the daughter of that angel and her fairy love was the stranger bathing in the lake.

Calling forth her white magic, Mystica floated across the water, hanging in the air next to the stranger. She smiled, and asked, “Do you have a name, dear one?”

The stranger smiled at Mystica, “I do not.”

“Why have you come here?” Mystica found her self asking. Knowing angels only appear when they need to.

“I am meant to be here,” said the stranger. “At this lake. With the fairy girls. And their Mother. Msystica.” She looked at Mystica. “My heart tells me this.”

Mystica smiled. “Then you are always welcome here, dear one.”

That morning, Mystica took the stranger into her home, finding clothing for her. It wasn’t much, and was very revealing. But it just felt right. As if the stranger were meant to be naked, not clothed.

From that day forward, the stranger lived with the fairies at the lake. Adopting Mystica as her mother. No one ever learned how old the stranger was. Or where she’d come from. She remembered nothing. Not even her name.

It was the first time the stranger went with Mystica to one of the villages to get supplies that the stranger got a name. When a male shop keeper saw her enter his shop with Mystica, looking for some cloth, and sandals, the male shop keeper could not help himself, and asked out loud, “Can I help you, Miss Hooters?”

Mystica had blushed. But the stranger hadn’t. She’d just smiled. “I like that.” She’d looked at Mystica, “I now have a name.”

And from that day to this her name as always been Miss Hooters. And no one save the fairies of her family, and the dragons, Merlin and Scream, know that she’s a half-breed. Half angle, and half fairy.

And no one at all, not even Miss Hooters herself, knew what her wild magic powers were.