Take Flight

A rush of wind . A rain of black. Feathers fall. The earth shakes obnormaly. A crack if thunder. A beeping sound.
I wake up from what is hopefully just a nightmare. I sit up drenched in sweat, as if I had been sleeping under the blanket of feathers that coated me in the night.
I get up and walk to my closet . I walk past my mirror and notice something. My brown, muddy-looking hair has been replaced with blonde. Platinum blonde. How is this possible and why is this not surprising me that much? I run downstairs to find my mom, sitting on the couch, as if expecting me.
"I was" she replied as if reading my mind. "I did ", she replied again. This time it shocked me. I really wasn't expecting it. How did she do that?
"Mom? How are you doing that?"
"At 15 I became"
"Became what?"
"Exactly as you are"
I sat silently, thinking. How did this happen. What am I. the question repeats in my head like an echo. What is going on.
"Mom. What are we"
"We are angels". Her statement, being is calm, came to me as a realization. All my dreams as a child were not dreams. Every night I dreamt of flying with an angel out my window, but to return to bed before dawn. That angel was my mom.
"What color are our wings?"
"Well blonde means pink wings, black means white wings, and brown means black wings. You figure it out."
"Wait. So am i blonde or brown?"
"Let me rephrase that. Whatever color you became"
I have pink wings. My mom has white wings. We have wings. I can't be an angel. I'm not even good. They must have made a mistake. I walk upstairs. In my bed I find a single black feather on my pillow. That wasn't a dream either.