Some call me The Guardian Angel. _Gargoyle_ may be more appropriate. I watch them navigate the city from high above. Flitting about from here to there, with their important jobs meeting important people.

Up here the aroma of honeymeade and spices drift on the breeze from the night market. The sounds of music and laughter floating up and around me. They enjoy their leisure hours in safety and good company, because of me.

I was born a freak. The bat like wings that grew from my spine spliced my mother, killing her. I was outcast. No one wanted to be around the child with wings. As they grew large enough to carry me, my loneliness did too. Until I made myself my nest in crevices of the skyscrapers.

The day they stopped taunting me was the day I saved a woman’s life. Swooping down to her rescue, my freakish wings were finally seen as an asset. Since that day I’ve kept them safe. From fire, and accidents, and invaders. I could see it all coming from high above.

They still don’t trust me. I’m still foreign and odd. They desire my help but not my company. I am a useful tool, useful for a job then put back in its place. But one day I’ll show them.

I am a sentinel for this city right now, but one day soon I’ll rule them all from high above the city.