Everyone experiences grief differently. Some eventually get over their grief and move on. Others continue to feel grief. Unfortunately, I was one of those 'others'. You see, when I was 8, I grew up with a happy, healthy childhood like many boys. I had the grades that allowed me to pass junior school, I had a hopeless crush and I was a teacher’s pet. Of course, unaware that my mother, who was dying of Cancer and my father who was having a money issue. Therefore, we could not treat mother.

I knew something was off with her, watching as her life was sucked away, day after day, hour after hour. But...they always told me that they were fine, that we were all fine. That they didn't need help. I believed them... I was such a naive child. Oh, why did I have to be such a naive child?! Why couldn't I just figure out just how much trouble we were in. Why couldn't someone tell me. Well... I understood why they didn't. They didn't want my childhood to ruined at such a young age, but it was...

When I was 14, mother had passed. I was beginning to fail my classes at school and became a huge introvert. I lost all my friends and lost interests. I didn't speak much.

A year later, father had followed mother's path. He finally got a promotion at work and went out to drink. But he himself must've been going through his own grief, most likely about mother. He made a bad decision and decided to drive home.

He didn't come home that night.

The next morning, my Grandmother got a call. Father had died in a car crash. They said something about the breaks not working and eventually while trying to avoid another car, he swerved out of control. But I saw the look in his eyes this morning. Despite the smile on his lips and the confident 'Good bye! Have a good day,' his eyes held an empty look. He looked so far away. I was scared he would've gotten further away if I were to let him leave, but I didn't think that if he were to walk out the door, he wouldn't come back.

After his death, my grandmother had taken me to many counsellors, to many mental health support groups, but none had done me any good. Grandmother's old age had soon caught up to her and she found herself to be in her death bed and currently, she still laid there.

I had my fair share of going in and out of hospitals, and the number of scars on my wrists and other parts of my body only increased. I didn't want to be here anymore. The sense of hopelessness and sorrow being way too much for me to take.

At this moment, I stood on our town's only bridge, just on the edge. It was almost midnight and not a single person was out at this time. The chilly breeze blew my curly shoulder length hair around my face, stubble grew along my chin and I was barely wearing clothing that could keep me warm in some way. The water beneath me was deep but if something...or someone were to fall in a certain place, they may hit the many sharp rocks below the water's surface.

Tears fell from my eyes like waterfalls. Turning my attention up to skies above, I allowed my eyes to wander over the stars, the far away worlds that may or may not have been discovered. Oh, how I wished I lived on another planet. There was nothing for me here. What was the good of living if I couldn't enjoy it? If I couldn't be around or even talk to those who I loved. Why even love? There was no point. Everyone who I loved always died anyway.

I had been told by many to never cry. I was a man Afterall. But if I must, if I must let out all that build up sadness and frustration, I were to do it silently, away from everyone. So away from everyone I went. To the bridge. I had heard many stories of this bridge as a child. Many in which all involved monsters. One in particular which I wished come true. It was a story for children who misbehave. It was told that a troll will crawl out, grab you with its dirty, yellow finger nails, and drag you back underneath. You would never be seen again. Why didn't the troll ever come for me? Was I that well behaved? I doubt it. I had my moments like any boy.

I let out a sob as I closed my eyes, tilting my chin back down towards the untrustworthy, wooden floorboards that creaked underneath any sort of weight. Tonight, is when my plan takes place, to leave reality and join all those who I loved. It was selfish for those who knew me, but if that’s what it meant, then I guess I was selfish. Opening my eyes, I face the flowing water underneath me. If the water didn't do as I planned, then I wouldn't know what to do.

Walking towards the very edge, I sigh. "I'm sorry everyone. But this life isn't for me. Forgive me..." I whispered those last two words as I took another step. But I was stopped. I couldn't go any further. In fact, something... No. Someone was holding me back.

Something pulled at my waist and when I looked down, very thin arms had wrapped themselves around my waist, pulling me back. Whipping my head around, I saw a girl. She was quite familiar and it took a few seconds for it to click. I had found this girl a few weeks back sitting in the park by herself. Her parents had divorced, one having a drug addiction, the other having cheated. I had bought her ice cream that day and a week later, I did again. Despite her situation, she was always so positive and I envied that. I washed I could go back to my childhood days where I was so naive, so happy and still living a life as I should be. What was her name? Eve? Evie? I think she told me to call her either one last time I saw her.

"Don't leave me. Don't leave me like they did." She cried into my back, her hands around my waist bunching up the materials. I had frozen at her words. The lump in my throat was growing. She was meaning her parents. Their love for their child long lost and too focused on their new lives which has led to bad choices.

Sniffles and sobs where heard and I could feel the tear stain on the back of my thin shirt. This was enough to make me crack. I let out a cry, allowing the tears to continue falling further and my throat to grow sore. Quickly, I spun around, wrapping my arms around her small figure. "I'm sorry! Forgive me!" I cried into her shoulder. I wanted to just scream at the world.

As long as this girl kept that happy smile on her face, I would try my best at getting through this. I would not give up, for this girl's sake. Life wasn't fair, nor was it on my side at any part of my life. But I guess it decided I needed a little light to help with the journey through that never-ending dark tunnel. To light the rest of the way and to tell me that there was hope for the both of us.

Tighten the strings. Tighten the strings. Tighten the strings. They have to be tight. They have to hold. Straighten the feathers. Straighten the feathers. Straighten the feathers. All in alignment, good. Check the wax. Check the wax. Check the wax. Sealed. It should hold. It should. God, I hope this works.

Gripping his son’s thin shoulders -- He seems so frail… Is this really a good idea? -- He repeated the instructions. Again. Three times. It had to be three or it wouldn’t work.

No, wait. He shook his head to ground himself, to come back to reality. That’s crazy. He shook his head again. Three is just a number. One more shake, just in case. It doesn’t have to be three, it just has to be right. He nodded once in determination. Then two more times.

“Do you understand?”

His son rolled his eyes and shifted his feet the way he always did when he was embarrassed and uncomfortable with his father’s quirks. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Don’t mock me. This is important.”

He let out a long suffering sigh. “Yes. I understand. It will be fine. Stop worrying.”

“Good.” Good. Good. He squeezed the delicate shoulder bones. Once. And quickly turned away.

“Let’s go then.”

They made their way to the window, checking to see that the coast was clear. He went out first, squeezing through, careful not to damage the wings. He leaped off the ledge and let the brisk sea wind catch his wings and carry him upwards. Not too high. But high enough. He looked back to see his son doing the same, just as instructed, a huge grin painted across his youthful face. He took a deep breath. Then another. And another.

As they flew out across the ocean, he began to relax. It’s working! It’s working! It’s working! He smiled for the first time and enjoyed the view. The waves cresting below. The clouds above. The seagulls flapping curiously nearby, yet still maintaining a cautious distance from these bizarre creatures which should not be flying. His son. His only son. Healthy and unharmed and soaring beside him to safety.

Hours passed and he mentally checked and rechecked and rechecked his calculations. They seemed to be on course. They would make it.

Toward midday, the clouds parted and the sun beamed down at them, warming their cheeks. It was a welcome sight, after many long days locked in a dark cell. They shared a smile of pure joy at the freedom and wonder of it all. His son let out a whoop of elation and began swooping about, this way and that, dipping and rising.

“Be careful!” he shouted, still relaxed, enjoying his son’s happiness.

“Don’t worry so much!” he called back. Laughing in delight, he spun in loops, experimenting and trying new moves and tricks. Just as I do with my inventions. He sighed with pride, denying the niggling little worry creeping back in. A quick mental check of their course would calm him. Or three.

Satisfied, he glanced over at where his son had been. His heart lurched when he realized how high the boy had gone while his mind was elsewhere. His breath caught in his throat when he saw a feather fall, released from its position as the wax softened. Then a second. And a third.

Before he could even cry out, the whole contraption collapsed and the boy hung in motionless bewilderment for one endless moment.

As his son plunged through the air in front of him, their shocked eyes met. He tried to grab his shoulders in his hands. They came back grasping only thin, frail, delicate feathers. Numb, he squeezed them two more times.

It had been 20 minutes since I left the party, walking down the thin pavement that followed the road to my house. It would still be around another 20 minutes before I got home since I lived just on the edge of town, my house surrounded by a small forest of trees. It gave me the privacy in which I loved. Not many people visited me and I usually tended to stay home, either cleaning, reading, cooking and baking. I didn't do much with my time unless it involved my school life which has now ended, or work.

I smiled to myself as I thought of my comfortable queen single bed, with my short height of 5'2 and small body, I could easily fit into the bed along with another person. That person being Amanda since she's been the only one to visit me now that my parents had moved in land. I had decided to stay on the coast, loving the salty smell of the ocean and much clearer skies.

My thoughts had been broken by a rustle in the trees beside me. Stopping in my tracks, I turn to the trees, my smile slowly faltering. I couldn't exactly see what was in the trees, but there was something that caught my eyes. Two figures, both sitting on a branch in the tree beside me. Nervously twisting the ring on my finger around, my first thought with their figures were perhaps some younger teenagers who may be pulling a prank or who may have run away from home, taking shelter in the trees. But those thoughts were cut short from the four glowing eyes that seemed to turn my way, as if sensing I was watching them. But... Their eyes were strange, and just like the moon, their eyes gleamed silver.

A growl could be heard from their direction, one of them which seemed to sit up straighter while keeping its eyes on me doing so soon after. Flinching from the unexpected noise, I didn't think twice as I pushed myself forward, running in the direction in which I lived in. I did not want to stick around to find out what exactly those creatures were, even if it were just a stupid prank.

Not too long after, I had found myself panting at the front of my door. Holding a hand up to my chest as if that could help me suck in more air in which didn't want to make itself present in my lungs. I knew for a fact I wouldn't be walking that way again, and if so, not alone at least.

Standing up properly, I don't hesitate when opening the door and quickly rushing in, locking it straight away behind me before running up to my room. Perhaps what I saw a few minutes ago was just my mind playing tricks in the dark. But then again... Those eyes... They were anything but human and yet, the body wasn't anything but human. Perhaps a wild animal I've never heard of...?

A crash upsatirs broke me from my thoughts. Rushing up the stairs, I gasp soon after opening the door to my room. There, sitting on my windowsill, was a young man. He looked around my age but at the same time, I wasn't quite sure of his age. His clothing looked to be old and ripped in some places, but somehwhat comfortable. He didn't seem to have shoes or any protection on his feet. His hair amazed me; black like the darkest charcol you would see in the fire pit after a fire. But what captured my attention the most, were those eyes. Silver.

The boy's head perked up in my direction, jumping from my windowsill to the floor in my room. The floorboards creaked under the unexpected weight but that didn't stop him from moving. In fact, he moved quickly to where I stood. I hadn't even realised that I backed myself up against the corner as he neared, sliding down the wall once he stood in front of me.

"P-Please... Who- W-What are you...?" I managed to whisper out. He didn't answer me at first which frustrated me, but I wasn't going to speak out about it. He did though reach his closed fist out to my face. Closing my eyes tightly, I expected the pain from some sort of punch to come around, but I did not feel the pain of any sort of violence. So, hesitantly, I opened my eyes, only to be met with his fist in front of my face. My eyes widened and I moved my eyes up to his, he had a small smile of hidden amusement on his face, causing my own to heat up. I was blushing? Well, to be honest, he was quite attractive...

He grunts and pushes his fist closer to my face, I flinched but I didn't move away. Instead, I watched as he did this repeatedly. Only staring at him in confusion until something in my mind clicked. Holding out my own hand underneath his fist. Opening his fist up, something small but heavy fell into my palm. Looking down after he moved his fist away, I was shocked to see my ring. It must've fell off when I ran.

I smile warmly. Turning my blue eyes up to his silver ones, I open my mouth before speaking, "Thank you."