𝖑𝖊𝖌𝖆𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖘||𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖔𝖘

1.2

oct 31 2006-nov 1 2006

Number Eight had moved back into her small room in July. Her father had decided that her new heart ability was revealed in the heat of the moment and she wasn't considered a threat anymore.

She was banned from going on missions until further notice. Nakia was particularly fine with this agreement. She was certain she was under twenty four hour surveillance from Pogo and Reginald, and most likely high on medication she was given with her meals.

The only thing that bothered her was that Vanya was right next door to her and whenever the house was empty they'd avoid each other. They still weren't on speaking terms.

Number Seven was upset that Nakia had become distant. Then she blew up in her face that her powers were a burden. She should be lucky.

At least she had powers and their parent's approval. Vanya would kill to be as special and as spoiled as Nakia. Her siblings were risking their lives and Nakia, their greatest asset, was sitting in her room high, and being useless.

Nakia was furious at Vanya. The way she blamed Nakia for being distant. That wasn't her fault. That was Reginald. If anyone should be blamed for their family's mishaps it should be the person who caused it. Reginald Hargreeves is a monster.

And for Vanya to call her selfish for hating her power was just shitty. Vanya had no idea what she or any of her siblings go through under Reginald's guidance. Vanya should be lucky she didn't have to deal with it.

She couldn't deny that the drift in their relationship hadn't hurt her. The cracks had started forming before Five, but the argument had caused everything to unravel. They had been thick as thieves, now they couldn't stand to see each other.

Nakia found herself talking to Ophelia more and more. With all of her free time and no friends to hang out with, she slept. Ophelia's hair had grown longer and was starting to turn a darker brown. Her blue eyes which used to shine like the ocean were now more dull and lifeless.

It was obvious her captive friend was worsening by the day. She was cracking.

And Nakia had no idea how to stop it.

Hell, she couldn't even stop her own problems.

✁- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Nakia was working on keeping her arabesque straight, one rainy afternoon when she heard a knock at her door. She slipped the walkman off her ears.

When she opened the door she sighed.

"Hey Pogo,"

"Miss Nakia," Pogo greeted. "Your father requests your presence. He has something he'd like to discuss with you."

Nakia groaned. What the hell did he want?

"Fine," she mumbled. "Give me five minutes Pogo.

Pogo solemnly nodded before walking away. Nakia closed her door. She banged her head against the wall. All she wanted was a little peace and quiet.

She opened her door, walking to her father's office. When she reached she knocked twice and heard a sharp "come in."

Opening the door she walked into Reginald's office to see him writing in his notebook. Pogo stood next to his desk, arms crossed behind his back.

"Number Eight," he called eyes on the book.

"Father,"

Reginald looked up sharply. He hadn't taken a look at her in months unless it was over the video footage. She looked terrible.