Tiny Figures

I woke up to a rather laughable situation. The clock signed 8 in the morning and voices were ringing in my ears. As I glanced towards my right, a tiny figure no bigger than my head floated before me. It had a pair of feathered wings, and was dressed in a simple white robe. Body wise, its physic were mine. Appearance wise, also mine. I squinted my eyes a little.

On my left, another tiny figure floated before me. It held the same face and body as me too. The said creature had bat like wings and wore a deep red-coloured robe. Size wise, it was identical to the tiny figure of the angel. But the little demon had added feature of goats’ horn and a tail with an arrow tip as a bonus. I closed my eyes.

The two imaginary hallucinations (I’d presumed) were arguing. My awakening was yet to be noticed and I remained silent. Analysing the situation through the tough times of feigning sleep I came to a simple conclusion: I was paranoid. The clash of the 2 seemingly and disgustingly similar faces came close to no signs of stopping their (very) loud argument. Over what, I couldn’t bother but their language made me. Foul words of the worst calibre were being thrown around like steel balls from a canon. BOOM! BOOM! Their resonance merged to that of a symphony that made my soul shiver. Such came from the mouth of the little devil.

Did any ship sink yet? Ahh… whatever my ear section of a ship did if not theirs. On the other hand was the little angle. Honestly, I had a better imagery of angels. Cute, delicate, graceful and just good. Their appearance would be of the same I suspected but the current one that floated a top my chest gave my mind ideas that said otherwise. Firstly, it held my face; okay... No.

Secondly, although the little thing did not swear and its tone was unlike the more barbaric version of me it was awfully cruel. Sarcastic and sharp remarks pierced the opposing side like sharp daggers and knives. Walking and lightly skimming the others skin. I mean, man! Did the little angel hold no restraint in its words and the very obvious dagger-like meanings?

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“The *bleep* are you doing here you *bleep* of a *bleep* *bleep* *bleep*. Go the *bleep* away! Your kind disgust the *bleep* outta me. And what the *bleep* is with your fashion sense? It’s ugly as *bleep*” said the little devil.

Hey, little guy. Isn’t your insults a little overused? I mean, you can do better than that. It’s as if the foul use of language is the only thing that makes you sound badass. The thug life is tough one but you’ll start at level 1 though. Oh well, seems like I’ll call you Innocence for now.

“Indeed it dreads me to wear such pitiful clothing. But due to unfortunate circumstances my seniors have in fact requested I wear the likes in order to bring myself to your level. All for the sake of understanding thy enemy, you see. The clothes do indeed remind one of oneself don’t it? With the exception of me without a doubt. You, of course.” Responded the angel with menace deep in its eyes. Ow?

Hey, don’t bully Innocence, look at the little thing. He’s tearing up. And Innocence, don’t bite your lips, you’ll bleed. Tears were gathering at the corners of Innocence’s eyes and the angel held a look of superiority. It was clearly in bad resonance with the devil and seemed more of what was once Innocence’s role instead. The sassy and mean little thing took glee in the other’s hurt and looks rather experienced in it too. The two figures floated, their argument said no more.

I’ll call you (angel) Sasstic. Sassy and sarcastic, since I did not know either of their names. It’ll have to suffice for now. My chest was pierced, to be mean with that face of haughtiness (which was mine) to another that too held my face and that was also tearing felt weird and I heaved a sigh.

Little did I know, they’d turned around and faced me; in response to my sigh.

“Finally” – Sasstic said in a royally tired tone.

“Umm… you didn’t *bleep* hear that did you?! I’ll beat you up!” – Innocence cried but looked bashful?

Oh what in the…