CHAPTER 39 Different Colour

　　Abigail's POV

　　Growing up, I thought that my unique black and white wings were a warning from God, a daily reminder of the constant struggle I would have to face navigating through life, fighting the urge to give in to the primal need for destruction and chaos that I had inherited from my father. I wanted to believe God had faith in my strength and determination not to allow sin and corruption to take root inside me; believing instead, he wanted me to follow my mother's example of compassion and mercy. But I knew he would test my faith and resolve from time to time- like now in the realm of sleep—a place where I could so easily close my eyes and shut out the harrowing cries of innocence.

　　I had grown up to be ashamed of my wings; they always reminded me of how different I was, how unnatural and damned. I can count the times I have shown them to people on one hand. One! My mother! That is it! So, it seemed fitting to unleash my one white, one black wing in a world where they belong