Chapter 2

   We head upstairs after we have some time of talking and joking. We were supposed to take about four hours to get to Handerville, but because of bathroom breaks and traffic, it took about five and a half.

   No problem there really. We grabbed some dinner during our breaks, so all that was left to do when we got here was relax, shower, and sleep.

   We part ways on the second floor. The house has three floors and a roof, but most of the bedrooms are on the second floor. Not mine though. Mine is on the third floor. I don't mind. If I remember correctly, my room looks out on the ocean. The house is built on a tiny peninsula of land, and the nearest house is about a mile away, great for privacy. And the land is our own. So it works out great. Especially when you're like us. Different. And hated. Can't forget that. Different and hated.

Also party animals. We might be like the Addams family actually. Everyone's got it in for us because we're so chic and subtly antagonizing that makes us like gods. I'll think that instead.

   I climb the staircase to the third floor to my room. I walk in and see that everything that is mine is indeed here. I mentally smile.

   Going through my dresser I grab some pj's, and from my walk-in closet, I snatch a towel. My bathroom is connected to my room, thankfully. Walking into it, I observe the huge bathtub and the fancy shower. Not to mention the giant window. A window in a bathroom? I look out at the twilight world and see that this window also faces the ocean, so nobody will see me. Or my wings.

Or my booty. Or my toes that look like pebbles and there's one bent weirdly than the rest. I'll spook any peeking Tom with my creepy toes!

Some people might be turned on by that now that I think of it...

Eh. I'll just fart or something instead.

   I turn the faucet of hot water on the bathtub and throw in some bubble bath solution. While I wait for the bath to fill up, I strip off my shirt, vest, and pants, not to mention my boots, and step into the shower. Turning the faucet unleashes a spray of cold water on me, but it quickly heats up. The water runs through my hair and down my face and goes the rest of the way down my body. My wings that are wrapped around my torso relax and expand to their magnificent size.

   Being half angel and half demon automatically gives you wings too. But the wings aren't anything like the two. Angels have beautiful bird-like wings, like eagles and ospreys and hawks,  whereas demons have grotesque bat wings.

   When you mix the two, it turns out you get something like my wings, smooth, dark blue, and like a dragon wing. Minus the boney parts and scales. Dad said the skin on our wings actually resembles the skin of sharks, which makes us very, very fast flyers.

  But what sets us apart from our predecessors, is that the wings can change shape. Quite literally.

  I can morph my wings to cover my body and take the shape of clothes, complete with buttons and zippers. At least, as they look like when not in use and when it hangs on your body. Though it takes an enormous amount of practice. I can't change the color, but I like the dark shimmery blue of my wings.

I can shape it into spikes sharp-edged appendages to hurt and maim. And a trick I know is that I can separate my wings from my back temporarily. It hurts a little, but the stunts I can do by doing so are worth it. Like scaring Mike.  He seriously thought my wings came off when I first tried this trick. His expression was priceless. Also, they're bulletproof. Not actually, but when the wings and bullet meet, the bullet is in for a surprise.

Not to mention, somebody as klutz as me can use two extra hands, which my wings are more than willing to meet as a requirement.

  The wings that have tightly wrapped around my torso are a little stiff. Hiding is very much important in my life. I can't possibly risk getting exposed. Our family has rules.

   Rule number one is that if anyone sees your wings, you have the full consent of the family to kill that person unless they're like us.

Actually, that might be rule number two. Number one might be table manners. Or that might be three. I know four is knock on doors and push daffodils. Five was something like say 'excuse me' when you burp or fart. So if somebody does peek on me and I fart on them, I have to remember to say that.

   The trickling water runs across the surface of my blue wings, and I feel it start to ease and stretch back to my normal six-yard wingspan. My shower, because maybe I have diamonds laying around like old pairs of shoes, is big enough for that.

  Normally, I keep my wings compact and tangled around my torso, every now and then, during the school day, I get restless so I rush to the bathroom and strip my shirt to relax them. After all, they're muscles, and muscles will get tired. Sometimes they get cramped, which makes for the most awkward situations.

  I grab the new shampoo bottle and squirt some of it out onto my hand, lathering up, I massage my scalp and slowly wash my hair. Soon after, I wash my body down with soap, but only briefly. I am taking a bubble bath after all. My wings hang folded on my back, which is better than when they were tensed around my back and chest.

   I turn the faucet and stop the flow of water. Shaking the water off my wings, I step out of the shower and into my foamy bath. I ahh in pleasure. Baths with bubbles are divine. Swimming around the giant tub, I stop in front of the window. The grey weather has cleared up, and on the edge of the horizon, I see the moon has begun to rise. The yellow autumn moon looks like a piece of melted butter behind the hazy clouds, all blotchy and nasty. Though it's magical as well.

  I peer through my window when a shadow catches my eye. My heart rate jumps in shock. I lift myself out of the tub onto my elbows as I scrutinize the shadow. It's straight and it seems to be above the ocean. I'm still staring at it when the top tip of the shadow winks at me with a flash of light. I blink and laugh when I realize it's a lighthouse. Silly me.

  I remember the lighthouse. It's on its own tiny island out at sea. I must have forgotten it existed, no doubt from my scarce visits to this area.

   If it was somebody breaking in, I think I'd die of embarrassment that I'm naked. I'd rather be robbed while I was asleep, and was wearing diamonds on my neck. I know some people do that, wear diamonds to sleep. Or at dinner when I had the fancy silver out.

  But dying naked? Really! I thought people were civilized nowadays.

   Sinking back into the tub I remember how I wasn't always like this. Scared of shadows. I used to be alright. I still love Halloween. But after...the incident. It's hard to keep your fear in check. After being chained and beaten. And kidnapped. No water for four days. And the awful things they did to me, and then what I did to get out of it. The scars are gone, at least most of them, but I'll still remember the incident.

  I don't think anyone can forget feeling your body sinking in your own blood.

   "It's fine," I say to myself. "Nobody there. No city to get kidnapped in. Only Handerville. You're safe and alone."

   Looking back at the lighthouse it seems to think the same.

   We're both safe out here. Safe and alone.

  And I'm also crazy to talk to a lighthouse.