The feathers, dirty white, were the
only evidence I had that there were angels in the attic of our new house that
only revealed themselves to me and liked to torture me at every possible
opportunity. I realised that just blurting out that story to my parents was the
sort of things that wouldn’t seem out of place in a mad-house, but now that I
had some real evidence, maybe I wouldn’t seem quite as crazy. Or so I hoped.
“Mom! Dad! I need to talk to you both
for a second! And you have to promise to hear me out!”
I yelled as I walked over to the
kitchen table. They’d both be in other parts of the house, painting walls or
unpacking boxes, but if I yelled loud enough, I wouldn’t have to go to the
trouble of looking for them. This couldn’t wait.
They both walked into the kitchen and
over to the table, looking slightly irritated. They both assumed it was
something to do with the angels that I was allegedly lying about. Well, they
were about to be proved wrong about me lying!
I said, holding out the clump of
feathers for them to see.
“Angel feathers. I went up to the
attic to get evidence that there were angels there, because I knew that you
wouldn’t believe me. The angels were even worse this time though, there was one
tall angel with claws that burnt be, it was the worst pain ever, but then it
was like her power ran out or something, and she stopped burning me, just like
her battery was low or something! I still got the feathers though, they were
bored of torturing me, so I could escape down the trap-door again!”
I still sounded hopelessly insane as
I quickly told them the tale of my journey up to the attic.
They exchanged a sceptic look,
eyebrows raised, their expressions so comically alike that it would have been
hilarious in any other situation. But not now, not now when I needed so
desperately for them to believe me.
Dad picked up one of the feathers,
looking at it for a long time before handing it back to me.
“These could be from any bird, or
just arts and crafts feathers. Look, like I said before, quit messing around
Sara, I’m seriously worried about you. It’s like you can’t tell the difference
between what’s real and what’s fantasy anymore. Please, just stop before you do
I looked at them with pleading eyes.
“Why won’t you believe me?”
I asked, raising my voice a little.
“Calm down Sara!”
Mom said, looking concerned.
“If this doesn’t stop before you go
back to school in three months’ time, I’m going to have to find a counsellor
that you can talk to about these issues, and I was hoping that it wouldn’t come
She told me quietly.
“I’ll prove you all wrong!”
I muttered mutinously as I stalked
out of the room, taking the feathers with me.