Wings & Lore

One

NOTE: This story just came to mind randomly. It's perfect for fans of Hush Hush and Fallen. This story may not be updated as much and is just a side project. I know you're probably like, "Kat. Finish your other two stories first." I am so sorry, but I haven't had any inspiration for either This is Home or The Lost Mortal, and I've been in a reading slump all December. I am hoping as I write Wings & Lore, I might get a little bit inspo coming to me.

Thanks for supporting me! I hope you like this fun project leaning towards Dark Academia and Fallen Angels.

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One

Set it on fire. Watch the stupid, incessant thing burn, listening to it as it tick-tocks its way into Hell. I swear, if my alarm clock doesn't stop ringing I'm going to throw it out my window and watch as the gears stop turning.

"BREAKFAST IN FIVE MINUTES, STUDENTS! GET UP OR NO BREAKFAST! AND ARTEMIS! DON'T YOU DARE THROW THAT ALARM!" Mrs. Katie warns. She knows me too well. Ok, she knows that I've needed to replace an alarm clock at least once a month because I keep throwing them out windows, against walls, or my personal favourite, down the laundry shoot and Mr. Bernie accidentally washing it and breaking the washer.

Though, I got three weeks of garbage duty for that one. It was so worth it.

"ARTEMIS THEA CARBALLAL, DOWNSTAIRS NOW!" Mrs. Katie is terribly impatient with me. She's a blonde-haired, fifty-year-old woman who's worked here since her twenties. A passionate, young woman looking to change young minds. I think she gave up on that dream when she met me.

My dream is to see the world, to never work the same job for more than a year, and go somewhere new. I've been in the same place for ten years now, I want change. No, I need change — like a vampire needs blood.

When I turned five my parents decided it would be a fantastic little idea to send me to a private boarding school — Elk Wood. As in an idea, it was their excuse to send me somewhere where they don't have to worry about being parents.

The saying, out of sight out of mind. Yah. My parents took that extremely literal.

I haven't left since, and I'm fifteen. Ok. That's a tad drastic, I do go back home to New York once a year on a weekend, but my parents tend to find another excuse called, I work. Or my dad's personal favourite, I have to stay at the office overnight. It's very busy down here. Sorry honey. I added the sorry. They never apologize.

My dad is a defence lawyer, he works closely with the police. Or so he tells me in his letters, just another reason why he can't visit me on Parent-Teacher Day. On the other hand, my mom is an actress. Don't worry, she's not that famous. She's one of those celebrities that only play in single episodes as a guest star. Though, she likes to flaunt that she's worked alongside Ryan Reynolds and Amy Adams (she never spoke to them, and they didn't speak to her. She's literally an extra that no one blinks an eye to).

She never has to worry about money. Not when my dad rolls in the bank. They tend to live the 1950s lifestyle, conforming to bias gender normalities and preferring to let the man be the breadwinner. I consider that absolute bullshit, and I like to wear my "fight the patriarchy," and my "men suck," pins whenever my parents glance a wink at me — which is almost never, but it's still fun.

Rolling out of bed, I grab my Elk Wood uniform from the wooden armoire. There isn't a lot of space in our dorms, but there's enough for an armoire, a desk, and a single bed pushed against the far wall — that's how it was originally designed, but after ten years I managed to alter the room a tad. The bed is now pushed underneath the tiny window I get that is the minimum legal amount of light required in a dorm. The desk was originally a boring, student-imprinted brown desk, but I guilted my parents into buying me a brand new steel one, which is against the wall the single bed was originally hugging to. I kept the armoire the same — considering it's in the wall, I can't really move it or replace it. It's quite rude that the school would do that. Then again, they probably don't expect their students to be there for ten years straight, without any breaks.