Chapter 10

I couldn't sleep that night.
I kept tossing and turning, my eyes wide awake, picturing Isla, and Avalon, and all of Cythanie's sisters, dancing in the hedgerows, singing unknown songs, eating all sorts of weird, unique fruit.
I closed my eyes tightly and imagined so hard I swear I could hear the tiny flutter of wing.
I felt sleepy at last.
I felt a drowsy and cosy.
Mmmm....
BANG! BANG! BANG!
I felt light when I opened my eyes, feathery and fragile, and I shot up in bed.
BANG! CRACK! BANG!
I slowly glanced up above my bed, to the window.
It was cracked.
There, about 16cm high, was a shafaelite.
It's eyes burned a piercing red, the colour of flames licking the wood, its hair was a black, the most vivid and intense black I could ever imagine, it had tattered clothes of greys, blacks and browns, all hanging off her white body like curtains.
Ripped in many many places.
It had several layers, all tatty and sometimes stained with horrid blacks and greys.
It's wafer-thin wings hung of its pale sholders like a burden, something so fragile and delicate seemed odd in such a viscious and angry monster.
The thing that shook me up though, what really made me tremble amongst my duvet, was it's expression.
It looked in agony, but happy, almost horrific.
But the most horribe, horrible, thing was it looked.....hungry.