• They drifted closer, the silver light glowed through there wispy forms as they drew nearer. A cold hand passed through my shoulder, “Just go. I know you don’t want to be here.” The chains around her slim wrists jingled as she wiped the hand away. The specters crawled back under the cold stones.
    --Even ghosts get tired of being here.
    The angel looked up at the moon wishing for something more than what fate had given her. A young maiden laughed below in the courtyard, a young man playfully chased after her. The angel reached her hand out the window, the chain pulling taunt around her wrist. Tears ran down her thin face.
    --Why doesn’t anyone love me?
    She sat on the windowsill alone, hidden away from the world, wishing for something more, to feel the touch of another, to feel warm again.
    She sighed and stared up at the moon.
    --I wonder if the moon gets lonely. I wonder if it feels sad.
    She moved back into the cold tower room, her bones as frozen as the stone beneath her feet. She held her hand out, the moons glow lightly kissed it. The angel smiled a soft sad ghost of what it had once been. She sat on the floor, her makeshift dress pulled even higher up her skeletal thighs, revealing more scars on her once beautiful body. She let out a ragged sob as she rattled her chains against the floor. She let out a cry as she threw her bindings back to the floor. A spectral hand passed through the chains around her ankles, making them rattle slightly.
    “Get away from me. I don’t need sympathy from the dead.”
    The specter sighed before disappearing under the stonework again. The young maiden below laughed again. The angel stared at the floor under her, her face twisted, tears dripped off of her chin. She reached behind her and tore at what was left of her tattered white wings.

    White feathers drifted lazily on the stone floor, some flew out of the window on the gentle spring breeze. The angel lay curled up under a blanket of snow feathers, her eyes listless gaze on the window. Blood trickled from the stumps on her back.

    “Derek look at all of these feathers! They are so pretty,” A lyrical voice giggled.
    The angel laughed, insanity creeping in at the edges.

    --Nobody loves me, nobody cares. Why? Why did this happen to me? All I want is for someone to tell me there is something better than this. I don’t want to die alone.
    The angel cried silently. The suns warm breath couldn’t bring warm back to her dead skin.

    The cool hand passed through her matted hair, “There is something better than this. Just don’t lose hope. You will see the grass beneath your feet again.” More hands passed gently over her body. Airy lips passed over her forehead.
    The hands left her body, she was alone.