Lasting Hope .5

Hazel Final

    The first day having the Angelos was pretty awkward but at the same time really nice. I liked them.  They kind of looked like me with their pale skin, height, and abnormal eyes. Dylan was really sweet, and soon I found myself falling for him. But I want to find out more, because maybe, just maybe, they might know where I came from, considering our similarities.

   "Oh hello Hazel. I didn't see you there." Ms. Angelo smiled at me. I guess it would be easy to miss me, since I'm in the far corner.

   "Hi Ms. Angelo. How are you finding yourself here? Do you like it?" I started with the easy questions. Let her warm up to me.

   She smiled, and took a seat across from me, in the red leather chair my mother loved so. "Your home is wonderful. Almost like a palace. I was surprised when we arrived at the gates, I wasn't expecting a home so big. I really like my bedroom too. Makes me feel like a queen." A soft laugh ended her sentence.

    We did have a mansion I suppose, but I never had anyone compliment it like that. We had about five guest bedrooms, which were hardly ever used. I'm glad she enjoys them, seeing how she got the largest suite."I sense there is something else on your besides my well being Hazel. Am I correct?"

   Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I slowly nod. "I...I'd like to know where you're from. I noticed we have a lot of similarities, and I'm adopted... so I thought that maybe we could originate from the same place..." My bravery left me.

    Ms. Angelo stared at me, with a pleasant smile on her face. She turned her face sideways and asked," Do you really want to know? Because... something might happen if I tell you...." Her voice dropped down to a low whisper.

     Intrigued,  I leaned forward, hesitantly nodding my head. She looked around the room, for whatever reason I cannnot image, for my mum was grocery shopping, and Dylan bathing. Apparently satisfied for whatever reason, she leaned forward her forehead almost touching my own." The place I'm from is called...Angelica." And her eyes seemed to glow gold, and, and my body tingled.

    "Where is Angelica?" A pleasant shiver passed through as the word escaped my lips.

     "Far, far away from here child. I hope you can go there one day. And let me tell you something. You're right. You are from my fatherland." She replied, almost sad.

   But before I could ask her how she could be so sure, Dylan entered the room. The smile looking rather forced on his face, as he looked at Ms. Angelo, and completely ignored me. "Aunt Oprah...may I pleeeease talk to you?" He turned to me. "Alone?" I let my eyes drop to the floor and quietly excused myself out of the rec room.

   I closed the massive wooden doors behind me, but I didn't leave. I was too curious as to what Dylan would say. I had a feeling it had something regarding me and...that place. I made sure the door clicked so that it wouldn't open. I pressed my ear, though I found that  I didn't need too. Their heated voices passed well enough through the door.

   "Did you just ijfhighia shfdsfhisdhf hsiufhshfi?" Dylan said. My eyebrows furrowed. What in tarnation was he speaking? It didn't sound like anything I've ever heard in my life. But... it sounded familiar. The deep tones, high pitches, smooth language rolled off effortlessly from his tongue. It was like a song. Ms. Oprah answered gravely in the same language. So singsong like. Mental note, ask them if they speak another language besides English.

   After about half an hour, the song came to an end, sounding so sad and dissatisfied. I quickly moved to the kitchen, looking in the fridge, just in time too. Dylan came out, worry etched into his perfect face. His eye caught my before I could look away, and... he just had to walk towards me. "Looking for the lunch to take tomorrow?" He smiled in such a way that made my insides melt.

   "No, just a snack to take upstairs to my, um, room." I said. It wasn't actually a bad idea. I grabbed a bag of potato chips, and turned to go, when I felt a hand clasp down on my shoulder. Startled, I jump, causing some of my chips to drop. I turn around, and find myself drowning in his aqua eyes. "Y-yes?" I ask him as I shake me off his spell. I concentrate instead on picking up the scattered chips. He bend down too.

    "Well, I was wondering if I could see your floor?" He said. No blood rushed to his face, something I found queer. I'd be dying if I asked something like that.

     Blood rushed to my face, and he noticed. "I wish I could blush. I have a condition that doesn't allow me to blush. And you don't have to show me. I was just wondering what kind of person you are. Their living quarters can tell you a lot."

     I nodded my head slowly, and weakly pointed toward the stairs.  Two flights of stairs later, we arrived at my floor. Like I said, I was an only child, mums barely home, so I kind of get my whole floor. A gasp filled the awkward silence.

   I closed my eyes in embarrassment, for I had forgotten that the grand majority of my ceiling was covered with  angels. He took my hand, and squeezed it. "They're beautiful. So realistic. Did you draw them yourself?"

      I nodded my head yes, and said," My whole life I've loved angels. Perhaps it's silly at this age to be obsessed with something thats not real, but between us, I know they're real." My voice dropped to the lowest whisper."And...and sometimes I feel like I belong with."

    He squeezed my hand and replied," I believe they're real too. And you definitely belong with them."

    His words bought a smile to my face. We watched comedy movies for the remainder of the night. I couldn't wait to show Madeline my new friend. And show him  around school too.