People were aware of the harm I had caused them, but they were unaware of the harm they had done to me.
I'm used to had wings. A superb one, capable of flying and even engaging in combat with a white feather that shines. People then notice my wings. Some of them awww my wings, while others sought to hide their resentment of me. Those envious individuals approach me wearing a friend mask so that they might deceive me about their friendship and commitment. I eventually noticed that my wing was broken.
I learn that they picked my feather. Each in turn, employ it as their personal jewelry. Some of them attempt to sell it to the merchant, receive payment, and utilize it for their own purposes. Some of them attempted to set it on fire. They claim that my wings actually came from a bird from a hell, whose feathers weren't suitable for public display because it symbolizes as part of devil family. So, they set it on fire in the hopes that when I pass away, I will not become a part of the evil bird from hell.
My back is now completely devoid of wings. These people have grabbed it and destroyed it. I'm on my own at the moment. No pals who vowed to support me. No one who has vowed to adore me. No one. Besides, I was viewed by the populace as a different species. More dreadful. The Witch. The traitors who had formerly been my friends spread rumors about me. The witch with the wing bone eventually materialized. I curse humanity. wiped out the civilization.
But no one ever believed that I was once a lovely angel. In the sea, forest, mountains, and volcanoes, it appeared as though I had evolved into one of those monsters. For now, I became aware of how much time I had squandered with these so-called friends.
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