A/N - I wanted to try something new with this ficlet. Let's see how this thing goes.

All I want is kinship. All I ever wanted was a friend.

It is hard, very hard, to be one of my kind. One of the Lonely Assassins. One of the Weeping Angels.

We are so feared, and so hated by all. They present shrines to us all across the Universe, praying through the voices of Gods to send us away. A mirror outside each home is protocol. A talisman hangs from the neck of every child.

But then I found what I was looking for. Or, at least I thought I had.

Every time I reach out my hand to touch someone, they go. Every time I attempt to befriend someone my tongue ties up and my limbs freeze. Why do you think we weep? We are friendless, loveless, pure stone. All we have ever dreamed of is companionship. All we have ever desired is someone to speak to.

We are not deadly. We do not raise our hand to you in anger.

But every time I touch someone, to stir them, to say hello, they are gone. They disappear from my grasp. Over, and over, and over. It is too much. We are too lonely.

But we cannot die. Because you cannot kill a stone. For that is what we are. So deprived are we that our very form is cold.

But once we were loved. Once we were cherished by all. We were real angels then, with the smoothest skin and wings of gold. We befriended freely, loved whom we chose. Everything was within our grasp.

Then our glory was stolen from us, by those who control time. They ripped us of our eyes to fuel their ships. They took our dresses to create shields, leaving us with simple sheets. They stole our voices to sing for them, the never ending song of a Timelord. We became ugly creatures, mute forever, holes for our eyes, clothed only in draped sheets.

No one loved us since. Our friends deserted us, the animals that basked in the sunlight of our world scampered to the deeps. We were alone, unable to look even upon ourselves.

But now I think I have found a new friend to love and to cherish, I pray it does not run like the rest, and I am so very close.

Turn around.