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Fifteen

Nate coward back into the corner as he heard the door to the attic whine open, his small mind running through different senarios as he heard the approaching heavy footsteps. Even in the dark, he could see the outline of the corner across from him, he could see the angle at wich the corner curved, the lenght it would take to switch from one corner to the other. He didn't really understood the numbers that flowed through his head, but he followed his instincs and switched to the darker corner, curling into himself. Numbers were a constant in his mind, and even though he didn't understand them as well as he wanted to, he began to trust them and follow his instincts, finding them comforting - strange but comforting.

"You little rat, it's time for dinner." Mrs. Freed cold voice rang through the silence, adding to the coldness of the attic and it's dark setting. Nate knew better than to keep hiding once she mentoined something about leaving the attic or at the mention of food, so he stood quickly and walked to the door, avoiding eye contact, not wanting to get his privileges taken away, fear of staring up at the monster.

"Now I expect you to never fall asleep without it being nap time," Mrs. Freed screached, "it inhibits you to fall asleep at night, and I will not have you running around the house and vandalizing my belongings; they're worth more than you, you idiot."

"I was just tired miss and wanted sleep, it's okay to sleep when you're tired." Nate responded, trying toconvince himself that he had done what was right, but he knew; he knew that once he answered back without her permission, that he would be in trouble. He felt his cheek sting as her scaly hand connected with his cheek harshly, the ringing in his ear causing him to wince as tears rushed to his eyes, his bottom lip trembling.

"I allow no back talking," Mrs. Freed said with and angry huff, looking down at the boy with her nose flared, her cheeks flushing to a red-ish tint.

"You should allow no abuse either," Nate said, and winced when he felt the blow to his ribs. He always forgot to shut up - he knew better than to talk back, but sometimes he couldn't help it, he would forget and speak his mind, only causing the witch to snap back and most of the time punish him by putting him back in the attic and never giving him food for the evening. This time, he guesses it's different, because Mrs. Freed hasn't stopped hitting him and it hurts really bad.

He was on the floor now, recieving kick after kick to his ribs, tears in his eyes as he wailed in pain. He couldn't remember much after that because all he could see was darkness as everything faded along with his pain.

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Ally sighed, grunting to herself as she tried to shift herself in the hospital bed again and failing, only succeeding in glaring at the wall. She hated going to the hospital becuase it normally ment that there was sadness and illness, and that didn't appeal to her; she liked seeing people smile and being happy in general, but what people found at the hospital was completely the opposite.

Plus, the hospital bed wasn't helping her mood at all. She was grumpy and sad and jealous and just not feeling like her normal self, and she hated that this place made her feel this way. She was grumpy mainly because she was confined to the bed and could only get out to use the bathroom and strech her legs a few times, and the fact that she still had a needle in her hand and she had to walk with the stupid stick that held her IV up right. Oh, how she hated this place.

Her sadness and jealousy played hand in hand and no matter how childish she realizes she was being for feeling that way, she couldn't drive her feelings away. It was not her ideal setting at all to deal with emotional issues she has yet to conquer, and the fact that she was ill was not helping in the slightest. What was her problem?

Camila.

She hated when she thought about one of her girlfriends in such a way, but she knew they were all human, they all had their flaws, and sometimes those flaws just seemed to tick her off; but Ally wasn't talking about Camila annoyingly leaving banana peels in random parts of the house, or when she would talk non-stop when Ally had a raging headache; or when Dinah would leave her make up and hair products all over the sink in the bathroom, or Dinah's ability to annoy her beyond beliefe when she was watching a game on tv and all she did was yell for about two or three hours; or Lauren's ability to ignore her when she's on her phone to much, or the way Lauren would leave her shoes around the house, always causing Ally to trip over them; or when she had to keep telling Normani to wash the dishes when it was her turn and all she did was nod and walk up the stairs saying she would be right back, or when Normani had one of her dance parties late at night, never letting her sleep; oh no, it was something that she should have dealt with when the group had first gotten together. It was Camila's search for attention. Normally, it didn't bother her much, she would brush it off and leave it in a box in the corner of her brain and move on, but there were certain days when it got to her, the days where she felt like being happy wasn't an option - and today was one of those days.