"She was afraid of heights,
but she was much more afraid
of never flying."

~Atticus

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*Trigger warning*- abuse is presented in this chapter

A soft humming sound made its way through the silence of the rundown, two-story building. Despite it being nearly four in the morning, my eyes were wide open and mind on high alert as I squinted through the darkness of my bedroom.

Body trembling, I eased my way off of my broken mattress and let my bare feet land onto my carpeted floor. Something crunched beneath them, making me wince in disgust. There was no telling what that was. Despite being somewhat of a clean freak, I could never find the time to really put my back into making my bedroom less of a prison cell and more like home.

Just thinking about it made me grimace. My back was sore enough with broken springs cutting through the fabric of my mattress and digging into the bare skin of my back at night. I couldn't even find enough energy to bend over more than a few inches. Every fiber of my being would scream out in pain.

A loud shattering noise rang through the darkness. My breath hitched as I jumped, causing some strands of blonde hair to fall onto my face. Gently brushing them aside, I mentally prepared myself.

Take one step at a time. Don't rush. Don't make noise.

I glanced at the alarm clock next to my bed. I had ten minutes to get in and out. Summoning all of my strength, both mentally and physically, I sucked in a deep breath and lightly slapped my cheeks with my hands.

"You can do this." I chanted quietly to myself.

As quietly as possible, I made my way towards my closet. After grabbing a pair of black leggings (four dollars on sale from Walmart; quite a bargain, if I do say so myself) and a grey long-sleeved shirt, I tiptoed into the hallway.

This hellhole had two levels but, despite this, the building was still small. There was a living room downstairs right next to the front entrance, along with a small kitchen and an even smaller dining room- if you could even call it that. It was more of a quiet corner with a square table that seated two people. It was mostly littered with broken bottles and crushed cigarette buds.

There were no other rooms besides a single closet, and a staircase next to the living room lead upstairs. Every board on that staircase would creak no matter how hard I tried and shift my weight. There was no way around it. They were loud enough to wake anyone in the house.

I knew that better than anyone.

All of the bedrooms were on the second floor. Mine was the farthest from the staircase, right next to a small bathroom.

His was directly across from mine.

Despite already knowing, I sniffed under my arms. Embarrassment filled my body as I quickly pulled my head away. Mason was only prepared to take care of himself. He was always decently dressed and smelled like some expensive cologne. Me, on the other hand, had to wake up at the buttcrack of dawn to take my showers.

He would always shut off the water during the day and take his time using up all the hot water on the days he actually graced me with some running water. But that was only on special occasions. Mainly when his friends would come over and have one giant, drunk sleepover. Mason didn't want me scaring away his 'guests' with my smell.

Much to my luck, my bedroom door didn't creak when I opened it. Mason's bedroom door was cracked open.

In and out. That's all you have to do. Get in and then out.

I began to take my shirt off as I traveled down the hall before quietly opening the bathroom door and slipping inside. Once undressed, I quickly hopped in the shower and began rubbing a bar of soap in my hands before slathering it in my hair.

Beauty guru, I know.

The metal handles squeaked as I finished my shower in record time- two minutes. A heavy feeling pulled at my back. The pain was not unbearable, but it grew worse as my extra appendages fell from the weight of the water.

I turned my naked body towards the mirror, examining myself.

A few bruises and handprints were on my arms. Nothing a long-sleeved shirt or hoodie couldn't hide. Hickies trailed across my neck and down towards my breasts. A shiver ran down my spine as I quickly pushed last night's memories, or rather the memories from a few hours ago, away.

I'd only gotten about an hour of sleep before he came stumbling into my bedroom. The lock on my door was useless. Every time I bought a new one, he would still somehow break inside. Luckily, by some miracle, I could always stop Mason before he went too far.

Not only would I lose the one part of myself that I actually cherished, but he would finally discover my secret after seventeen long years. My eyes trailed to my wings, which were plastered against my bare back and fell against the dirty floor. The feathers were a bit brighter from the wash, but I knew it would take some deep cleaning to actually get the dirt out completely.

With a sigh, I looked over myself one last time. Dark circles were under my eyes, but that wasn't anything new. My face was mostly untouched and kept 'pure'- as Mason liked to say- with no blemishes or hand marks. The blonde hair that cascaded down my shoulders was getting long again. I couldn't quite remember the last time I cut it.

I was too afraid Mason would stab me with a pair of scissors lying around.

It took about five minutes to dry my wings. They felt lighter, but still damp. Hopefully they wouldn't give me any trouble on my way to school. I decided to leave my hair down to dry. It would return to its natural wave eventually, but the humidity would be a nightmare.

Another crash sounded suddenly, and I froze.

He always moved around in his half-drunk half-asleep stupor. But this time the noise was too close. I couldn't waste any more time.

Don't panic, don't rush. Don't panic, don't rush.

The floors creaked loudly as I scurried back to my bedroom, and my bedroom door did little to help my case. I glared when it creaked loudly.

Traitor.

My wings folded tightly against my back as I slipped on my shoes. Being small had its advantages. Mainly just not growing in shoe size after turning thirteen- or growing at all, really. Being five foot four wasn't all that bad. That is until it comes to fighting a two hundred pound, forty-two-year-old man built with muscle. When that happens, everything considered 'good' about being small went down the drain.

It was nearly four-fifteen now. If I hurried, I could finish my homework at school with a few minutes to spare. Mason was more worried about me keeping the house clean, and would force me into doing chores I could really care less about; so it was impossible to finish homework here.

My hands reached out, shaking slightly, and touched the wooden rim of the window. Heart pounding, I gave a small, excited smile. I was almost out. Mason wouldn't be able to touch me until after school!

"What do you think you're doing?"

Speak of the devil.

The window slammed shut as I released it in fright and twisted around. Mason stood there with eyes blazing in anger. Well, his posture was more slumped than anything, and even with his half-shut eyelids, I could still feel the anger rolling off of him like waves.

His words were slurred as he spoke, "Why are you trying to leave me alone, when I've got them coming? Ungrateful brat, never doing nothin' right. Waking me from my sleep like a little worm."

I was already opening the window again. It was unlikely he would remember anything after placing a bottle to his lips. I would have to risk him seeing my wings in order to escape.

A snarl escaped from him as I felt two large hands grab my upper arms. They were loose, not quite strong enough to hold me in place, but I knew there would be bruising fingerprints left behind.

There always were.

"P-please, Mason. I have to go to school." My lip trembled and I bit it out of nervous habit. His eyes fell upon them, and a dangerous look fell upon his face. One hand released my arm and instead grasped tightly around my throat.

His thumb brushed along my bottom lip, and I couldn't fight the whimper that escaped me as I struggled to breathe. I gagged and grasped his wrist, watching those eyes burn with passion.

"I can show you how a man is supposed to treat a woman. I can show- but you were difficult, left me tossing and turning in bed all night and now it's your fault. Your fault for this."

He pressed himself against me, and I forced myself not to squirm at his obvious excitement. That always edged him on. Knowing my words would do nothing, I gently licked my bottom lip and did my best to smile at him.

The lust in Mason's eyes grew as he tightened his hold on me and leaned his head closer to me, just as I had known he would do. Before his lips could touch mine, I took advantage of how close our bodies were and kneed him as hard as I could in the groin.

A yelp escaped his lips and I yanked away before kicking him in his left kneecap. Being drunk didn't help his balance much, and he toppled over.

"You little-"

Gasping for breath, I yanked the window open and slipped off my jacket before spreading my wings and taking off into the night. Mason yelled something out of anger, but I forced myself to ignore him. I gently placed a hand on my neck and flinched at the immediate pain.

I let out a pained groan and flapped harder, soaring higher into the sky. I'd left my concealer back in my bedroom under my mattress, so there was no way to completely conceal my newest injuries. Not only that, but I'd left my backpack too.

What a great start to the day.

Blinking away my tears, I focused ahead of me. I had school to worry about now. Any thoughts of Mason would distract me, and my grades would slip even more than they'd already. I tried to focus my mind on my history exam second period- I normally have about half an hour alone at the school library before being summoned by Mason to return home, which left me little time to study.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't focus. I knew what waited for me when I returned home. I could try and try again, but I'd never escape. He would keep me trapped inside that little house forever if he had to, abusing me until my breaking point. Maybe one day, I thought to myself, I should just let him finish the job.

There was nothing left to live for anyway.

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