Failure. Failure. Failure.

The word echoed in my ears, ringing. Like a symbol clash, a miss-happen mic. I walk forward two steps, stumble back four. My hands shaking, sweating. I'm sorry, it won't happen again.

Words. Beating me. Slamming into my sides, my rib-cage. I'm punctured, the words inside me whizzing out, until I had no more left.

I couldn't speak.

Why can't Ispeak?

Salty, metallic. Is that blood?

But it wasn't me this time, I didn't cut me, myself – the body I despise. No, it was them. Those around me, those selfish angels.

I'm not an angel. Can't be. I'm a creature of darkness,of failure.

They are perfect. Angels. Their glow blinding, hitting my retina. They don't bleed. They ooze perfection.

Me? I bleed out blood. Just bleed. Bleed. It's fascinating; how much blood can come out of one creature. If I can even be considered as that.

Considered. The word rolled out of their heads. Consider what? Not me. I'm nothing. Just a failure.