Made with scales and feathers

I wasn't afraid anymore when he fed. It almost looked beautiful now, standing around the corner, watching his claws and teeth grow larger with each bite. But I still couldn't look on for too long. I look at the sky now, more than I used to. It passes the time.

Clouds swirl up in crimson and grey, and the blood ripples through his prey. The sun sets with red and yellow, the colors spread below like ocean waves where the skyline meets the concrete. I feel a nudge and turn around to see him pushing his meal at me. "Eat," he says.

I shake my head at him, and touch his cheek – rough with scales – I remind him I'm only half of what makes him whole. He doesn't entirely understand, but accepts and feeds on. It's not always like this. We have conversations, sometimes. He's learned a few other words besides "eat," "dirty," and "you don't need to be afraid." But mostly he lets me do as I wish, and once in a while he knocks on my growing shoulder bones to remind me of what's coming. 

He's my brother.

I met him during the accident that took away my mother and my apparent half-family. A cliché, really. But he reminds me, who else would've taken care of me otherwise?  Who else could've told me how with age my skin will turn to scales, my mouth will seek blood, and my shoulders will erupt into wings?

Not that he's always seeking blood. He enjoys eggs. That's the only human food he'll eat. But he can't survive on it. I can. If I'm allowed raw meat once in a while, and I allow myself that. We celebrated my birthday last night, and I had to eat the whole cake myself. He took two pieces though; I could tell he was disgusted.

I was never religious, but I always believed in angels. I don't know if I ever imagined them to be like my brother. Terrifying, angelic, and yet still willing to do Monday night laundry with me. Sometimes I wonder if he's an angel at all, or if he's something entirely different. Whether we're something entirely differently. But I give him the benefit of the doubt. He's my only family now. And he's promised me that he will teach me how to fly.