“You’re growing fast” he says, “Maybe we can marry sooner”. He leads me to a mirror, I see my wings, they are tiny compared to Lucas’ and when I felt the wings it was a soft down feather. I look in the mirror again and see blood red irises looking as if it was spreading from the pupil, engulfing my hazel eyes. The black hair spreading from the roots, almost done spreading over my long, brown hair. My tan quickly fading, even now as I look in the mirror, I’m growing pale. “You’ll get used to it,” he says, “I used to have blond hair, green eyes and a tan; now look at me, I’m the complete opposite. I’m blood thirsty, black hair, red eyes, and pale… I was what my name meant, light. I could put a smile on anyone’s face, and now people cower from me. I don’t even know how I had the aura for being a Reaper; I should have been an angel”. I see him begin to cry “so the dead can cry,” I say. He gives me a dirty look and says “no, only reapers; the angels don’t have a reason to. They have real food, nice clothes made of silk, and they don’t have to see and carry the dead souls, they help living souls,” he punches the stone walls and it crumbles, “at least your fiancé will be happy”. “You
are my fiancé now,” I say and kiss him. “It’s obvious you love him, you’re forced to marry and love me. It’s not real” he says. “So you’re calling this fake” I say and kiss him I move my lips from his lips to his ear and whisper “I love you”. He leads me back to the room and I sleep some more and finally ask, “When can I change out of this”. “There’s some clothes in the closet,” he points to a door near the mirror he just got for us. I open the door and look inside. A room as big as where we sleep was filled with black clothes. I step inside and close the door as I say “I’ll just be a second”. I chose a tank top, shorts, and a jacket. I find some socks and tennis shoes and tried to open the door. “Lucas,” I cried, “help me please".