With wings…

Criticize

It was in his eyes.  The disdain. The disgust. He never had to say much, though he did, every chance he got.  “Do you really need to eat that?”  “Are you sure that is the best outfit you have?”  “You could be so beautiful if you just tried.”

The criticism was subtle, insidious. Never directly calling her fat, never directly saying she was ugly. But it was always there hanging above their heads.  The implication that she was lucky to have him.  That she should be grateful he chose her above all the girls.

But the day came.

“This is ridiculous.” He shouted at her. “How dare you disagree.  Do you know how lucky you are to have someone like me?”

It started with a tingle in her shoulder blades.

“If it wasn’t for me you would be home miserable.  Just get in the god damn car!”

The tingle became a persistent itch.  She fidgeted, taking his jacket off. Reaching back to scratch at the spot that now burned.

“What in the hell do you think you are doing.” Stepping closer to her. “I will not be late for this party! Get. In. The. Fucking. Car!”

With a resounding snap, the wings she never knew she had spread behind her. She had hoped she would be one of the lucky ones.  One of the few who realized their worth and earn their wings.

“Who do you think you are talking too?” She whispered.

“Who do you think you are TALKING TOO!” She shouted.

Stepping closer to him. Dropping his jacket at his feet. With no other words to be said, she flexed her wings and flew.

And as he stood staring at the place she had been, the heap of his jacket on the pavement, he could hear her cry.

“I am free!”

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