Chapter Two

KYLE'S P.O.V.

As soon as Kyle comprehended what had just happened, and realized the type of call the stranger woman made, he made a run for it. Scared out of his mind as he rounded the house and entered the same way he got out.

His elbow was bleeding, leaving a small trail of blood droplets as he skipped over to his mother's room, crawling underneath her bed. He didn't even realize he had started crying until it was too blurry to see. His heart raced faster when he picked up the sound of sirens nearing closer and closer to his house.

In his mind, he kept blaming himself. Thinking to himself that he should've listened to his mum. He should've never broken the rule. He gasped in fright when banging sounded on the door, wrapping his wings around him, wincing slightly when the soft feathers brushed against the raw skin of his injured arm.

"It's the police, open the door!"

Little Kyle whimpered as he shrieked into himself, his tears kept bursting forth like water from a dam, spilling down his small face. He felt the muscles of his chin tremble as he begged for his mother's return.

His sobs were as raw as they could get, when he pressed his head to the dusty floor in hopes it would stop the shakes that racked through his body, muttering his rules one after one like a silent prayer. Waiting for his mother to come to him.

That's when the door to the bedroom opened, slowly. It was too silent that if not for the small whoosh of air and the tiny squeak the worn metal let out, he would have missed it. But he didn't and the blood pumped out of his heart even faster. He covered his mouth to quieten his sobs. The consequences of his disobedience terrified him. He's going to die. They will take him from his mother and he'll never see her again!

"Kyle? Honey, are you in here?" The sweet melodic voice of his mother sounded in the room in a hushed whisper. As soon as it reached him, that it was his mother, he crawled out immediately and all but threw himself to her waiting arms.

"I'm sorry mommy! I'm sorry! Don't l- let them take me!" his sobs were stifled as he pushed his tear-smeared face against his mother's shoulder. His body still shaking in fright, with his frantic apologies for not listening.

"Hush now, my darling, I need to get you out of here, but you have to be very quiet. Can you calm down for me?" It pained her to see her boy in a state of raw terror. The way he clutched her clothes in complete vulnerability. She brushed a soothing hand over his locks, patiently waiting for his short pauses of recovering breaths to be constant.

Light on her steps as she got up with him in her arms, down the stairs to where she could get her boy to safety. They both jumped at the sound of demanding slammed fists against the door. Some form of knocking that is.

When Kyle shuffled closer, wrapping his short limbs around her neck and waist, she hurried. Whispering promises of safety. "Mum, they are coming through the back." he whispered when the heard footsteps taking direction towards the back of their house.

"I know, honey. There's is another way out." She hummed in assurance as she balanced his weight on her one arm, stretching the other to open the pantry door. Entering; she, at last, lowered him to his feet, closing the door behind them, then took a hammer, she kept in a toolbox, and smacked it down onto the doorknob, knocking it off its hinges. Therefore preventing anyone from opening the door, outside-in.

The sound emitted from the force of the smack echoed loudly. Attracting the- unwanted- attention of the police force, who's waiting upon capturing a helpless, innocent boy, for what he is. Their voices grew louder and the slams against the door grew harsher, but she tuned it out.

Once she was sure the door was well-secured, she went to the wall opposite of it, and felt around the edges, until she found a wooden board, and removed it. To reveal a hidden "tunnel". One she spent countless, sleepless, nights; digging out. In case a situation, similar to this in nature, accrued.

She looked back at her son; wide, horrified eyes. Flushed cheeks wet with tears. Body trembling in fright. It broke her. To see her boy in such a state, it's why she always insisted he hid. To never live a day where her boy is on the run. But here they are. Here she is.

She crouched down to his level, ignoring the way they both flinched as another slam to the door was heard, shook him in her arms as if by doing so, the fear would steam out from his pores like sweat.

"Look at me." She harshened her voice but kept a gentle hold.

"Follow the light. Crawl fast, I'll be right behind you. Everything will be alright, honey, I promise."

Kyle nodded and got to the trapdoor, crawling fast, as his mother requested. His mother's breathing was liberate, she kept looking between the trapdoor and the pantry door as she heard more cracking sounds after every slam against their front door. She gave him a head start, but it was risky to wait more so she hurriedly crawled through the trapdoor, hammer in hand, she tried to block the way in as they went.

It took them a while to crawl out from the tunnel, it was a long way, with Kyle needing a few seconds for his hurt arm and scratched knees from the ground's roughness. But nonetheless, they got away, the path led them out of their house, then down a couple of yards and out to the woods. They heard sirens and service dogs barking from a distance, and they knew they have yet to be safe.

She took his hand, and they ran. As fast as they can, farther and farther away. They didn't stop once. When Kyle grew breathless she would carry him on her back, and when her legs were too sore to hold her and her son up she would slow down the pace. But never stopped running.

When they got to a distance she deemed far enough from the people chasing after them, dusk was falling. She placed him against a tree trunk and collapsed next to him. Breathless and exhausted.

Kyle huddled closer to his mother, as it was getting colder by the minute. And wrapped his wings around them both. It was his only shield. And only vice.

******

The sound of crunching leaves filled the sullen silence, accompanied by the chirping of birds, even though it was nearing dusk, it was still bright enough to take a walk in the woods- according to Andrew at least.

He is a sight to behold, the way he skipped over a fallen branch, clutching his backpack as it swayed along with his every move. Whistling to himself. He looked so handsome! His character always enthralled me.

He has the kind of face that stops you in your tracks. Literally. I wonder if he is used to a sudden pause in someone's natural expression when they look his way followed by an overcompensating with a nonchalant gaze and a weak smile. But in the times I witnessed that, he would smirk. So I guess that's a dead give-away.

Perhaps that's why he takes the woods route back home... I'm not complaining though, it makes it easier for me. Uh but he's so modest with it, it makes me fall for him even more!

I kept my steps light, as I did countless times before, and kept my eyes on him. It was nearing six in the evening, around that time, Andrew would waltz into the greenery roads of the woods, and would blend in with the gentleness of nature. Like the perfect creature he is. He would feed the cats before heading home. And believe it or not, I know this; because Andrew is a consistent person-and not from years of stalking.

He loved cats, and the cats loved him, so when we (he) reached the small clearing where he usually feeds them, it was no surprise to me; to see cats appear from different directions, all rallying around him, meowing away and rubbing against his legs.

It was such a sight. What lucky little things they are. They get to be in his presence, to touch him and get affection from him-no I'm not jealous of homeless cats!

I admire his gentleness, it's not one of weakness and trite politeness, but one that comes from deep within. True, great spirit. It's one of many things that makes him beautiful.

I knew we would be here for a while, a third of an hour to maybe even a half an hour. So I climbed a tree, the one I always choose. It's the perfect place at the perfect time, really. Its leaves luscious and full, the branches high and thick. Enough to be able to see him clearly, but still hidden away.

And so for that third of an hour, before dusk, I sat down on a branch of an oak tree, watching him talk, feed the cats and play with them. A permanent soft smile drawn on my face.

******

It was almost eight when I returned back home, with the comfort of knowing- ensuring- that Andrew was too, back in the safety of his home.

I like to imagine that if I were to have a friend- or a sibling- they would make jokes about my wings and tease me endlessly about how I imitate a guardian angel. But it wouldn't be much of a tease if I fancy the idea...

The house was empty and dark as it's always is- my mother comes back around nine when her shift ends. And so I take it upon myself to light up the house and fuel the fireplace, in a failed attempt at making it more home-like. But unless ma is here, it's no home.

I went to the kitchen for a much-needed cup(s) of water, then proceeded back to the front door, or rather, the coat cupboard to remove my leather jacket. Then up the stairs to my bedroom and removed my shirt as well.

Damn, wearing clothes is so restricting. There is no comfort for me when it comes to clothes, wearing them is like carrying a rock on my back and walking up The Great Wall steep stairs- not pleasant at all.

I stretched and stood there for a while, not really having anything to do, then decided to just lay in my bed until ma comes back.

My wings came in contact with the soft silk of my bedsheets -it's the only thing that wouldn't irritate my skin and is comfortable against my wings- they were expensive, and we're not all that well off. But my mother insisted. "If I'm not going to provide you comfort, why am I here then?" she said.

I sighed and looked upwards to the black ceiling, and smiled softly at the star cutouts hanging from it. It was a small thing me and ma spent a sleepless night on. When I sneaked into her bedroom and we were both unable to sleep.

She'd always tell me that; my father was one of those stars. I never understood the meaning behind her words, and when I bid to ask her, she'd only smile at me. So every time I'm unable to fall asleep; I'd ponder about her words. In any event, my nights have gotten better thanks to her.

I smiled when I heard the door unlock, and quickly hopped off the bed and skipped over steps on my way down. Ma is my person. My parent, friend, and companion. She's the only one I have. And the only one that matters. So even when she goes elsewhere for a few hours, I'd miss her.

I always wait for her, and she always welcomes me with open arms. The way her arms would embrace around me, and stroke the feathers of my wings, how her body heat would warm up my heart. And her scent, mixed with spices and sweat, is always a pleasant thing I look forward to.

"My boy, I've missed you too." my mother cooed in my ear, her voice soft and radiant, soothing over every thought and worry.

"Have you eaten?" Uh. Ma and her usual concern.

"Yes. We had leftovers." I smiled sheepishly when she gave me a raised brow. I knew what's coming. I'm in for an earful.

"You should have gotten something else to eat honey..." I know she wants to continue with "I should've cooked something before leaving." and how "it's not healthy to rely on small amounts of food." But the hint of guilt and sadness in her eyes had me objecting.

"It was pizza. You know how much I love pizza. And I was too tired to cook something up! I'd have ordered but you know..."

Maybe I should have worded that a bit more carefully...

"Promise me you'd take care of yourself when I'm not here to do so." The scolding look was almost covering the worry behind her words. Almost.

"I promise. How about having dinner together? No matter how late you come!" It's not the first time I'd suggest this, and as I expected, she smiled.

Growing up. My mother would reply with smiles rather than words, and through the years I learnt to distinguish and differentiate each of their meaning.

This one is a care-full refusal.

******

It was already late, so after a while of catching up and small talk; ma went to bed. Of course, that meant at least half an hour of self-care that I almost forced upon my mother some years ago when she'd neglect herself to focus on me and work. I'm not so fond of the memory; it ended up with my mother crying in my embrace, telling me that if not for me she wouldn't be here. Making me cry too.

I waited on the bed, ready to be tucked in. even though I won't be sleeping anytime soon. If it gives my mother peace of mind, knowing-thinking- that I'm safe and sound in my bed, then I'd let her tuck me in 'til the end of my days.

Guilt filled me when ma came in with a smile, tiredness clear on her features. She pulled the sheets up to my chin and laid a kiss on my forehead. While it was a bit childish, I cherished it with all my heart.

I should tell her. I know I should... nothing good ever comes out of going behind her back (talking from experience) but I couldn't bring myself to do so. Because if I do, then it's allowed no more.

I waited a bit longer, after my mum left my room, to make sure she's asleep, before sneaking but-not-so, to my balcony. I've replaced my naked torso with a loose-fitting tank top that I snipped off two slits at the back where my wings should go.

I've been doing this for a while, without my mother's knowledge. Or consent. Like I aforementioned, she wouldn't allow it if I told her. And I selfishly choose a bit of freedom to use what deprived me of many things.

I ascended on the railing and spread open my wings. I don't know how I learned to use them, I just breathe in and try to imagine what it feels to be weightless, with air holding me up.

I felt the cool breeze of the night blow into my face, and tousle the locks of my hair. When I opened my eyes I was met with the few stars that dotted the blackness of the sky. It was well after midnight, the darkest it could get before the sun peaks over the horizon.

I enjoyed the feeling of being free. It's hard to put it into words, and I'm sure ma would know how I feel if I were to tell her, but I cannot. I flew a bit higher towards fuller clouds, still a bit paranoid about being seen.

It is peaceful up here, the way the stars gave promises of life in the darkness, that beyond what we could see, the eternal space, there were those whose night was lit with those stars just like now.

It's a beautiful sight, stars twirling and spiraling against the corners of what meets the eye, to illuminate the way of who's lost, and remind the defeated that there still is hope left to be found. Even in the absence of the moon. I dreamt of bringing Andrew up here like many times before.

It would be so romantic, wouldn't it? He and I, alone and away from anything and everything. Not a single thing could harm us. Under the protection of stars, and the warmth of our bodies pressed together.

But what I wish is impossible. Ma would totally freak out. And let me meet Andrew eye to eye first then we can discuss a midnight adventurous flight.

Speaking of him; I wanted to go visit his house, take a peek at his sleeping face, but decided against it when I neared his house. I was close enough to his window to see him in one big lump on the bed but quickly averted my eyes. I've been much of a creep to him in daylight, to stalk him in his sleep is just too far.

Slightly dispirited; I decided to end my aviation now. I landed right outside his backyard and decided to just walk the distance across the street to my house. I kept looking downcast, not really being that much attentive. I mean it's near two in the morning, no one is awake.

My absent-minded walking came to a halt when a shadow cloaked over my body, a pair of sneakers appearing in my line of sight.

The air got stuck in my throat as realization dawned on me; I, once again, fucked up. I kept staring at the ground, thoughts of being chased again, moving, starting afresh again- telling my mum. I was half terrified to look up and see who is in front of me, until I gathered the courage and leveled my eyes with theirs.

I fell a step back in shock, half a blink, and a small gasp was all I could let out.

Andrew. With his perfect face and perfect features, sharpened under the lamppost yellowish light. Forest green eyes, blown wide, shocked but not a bit afraid.

I was pinned to the spot by the way he looked at me, for a while we stayed entranced by each other, but with a blink; his eyes swept over my form, heavy and absorbing.

He inched closer towards me, his eyes curious, and his moves calculated and alert. He raised his hand and hesitantly laid it on my cheek, his palm softly engulfing the side of my face. The warmth had me closing my eyes as a shiver ran down the length of my spine. I almost lost myself in his tender touch but then sensed his other hand wander to the top feathers of my wings.

That had me snap out of my trance, dumbfounded with what just happened and the way I reacted. I pulled away and with a final look into his stunned eyes, I flapped my wings and took off to where I can hide in shame, but mostly; fear.