Angels in the Night

Angels in the Night: Chapter One

Chapter One

“LUCIA!!!” April screams from downstairs. I lurch forward, slamming my head on the bunk above me. Cursing and mumbling to myself, I saunter down the twelve stairs. Twelve. Yes, I know. It’s a quirk of mine. I love to count things. Ever since I was little I’ve loved it. Am I good at math? Hell no. but, I’m good at counting I guess. Just watch this.

One: My first foster parents couldn’t stand my crying. They brought me back in an hour.

Two: When broke my leg on my eighth birthday, they returned me.

Three: Three’s a charm? Not here.

Four: My fourth family. Touched me and told me not to tell. But I did.

Five: Left me home alone to starve when they brought me “home.”

Six: Halfway done. Daddy was obsessed with me. For all the wrong reasons.

Seven: nothing special really. Stayed at that house for seven weeks, ironically.

Eight: Pretty sad here. One in twelve kids; they couldn’t even take care of one.

Nine: I can describe them in nine words. Terrible parents who I was forced to live with.

Ten: Bad times here. Abused their dog, then switched to me.

Eleven: Don’t know what I did here. I guess they just didn’t like me.

Twelve. Present day. I live with a family of six plus myself. April and Tom are my parents. Not the best I’ve had, not the worst. Here’s the weird part, they are obsessed with month names. Their three kids, not including me, are May, June, and Summer. Pretty odd right? And get this, they love the winter.

I’m the only adopted kid here. The Bushcers are gonna see what I’m like for two weeks, then decide. Hope Center (AKA my adoption center) constantly tells me to put on my best behavior. What am I? Some dog? Plus, I’ve been doing this for twelve years. My hopes for being kept are long gone. Now, I can’t wait till I turn eighteen.

No, I can’t wait until I find someone else like me. My wings itch under my shirt, begging to be set free. The powers I possess course through my body, throbbing in pain. Ever day, I struggle to keep my identity a secret. It’s not like that Hannah Montana show. (At least “mom” and “dad” didn’t name their kids after states). It’s much more different. More complicated. You see, if someone finds out about me, I’ll be shipped off to labs for a gazillion experiments. So, unlike miss Hannah Montana whose only fear is having her friends hate her for lying to them, I have much more to lose. For instance, I could die. Not a huge difference or anything. But I brush it aside and walk out the door with a piece of burnt toast in my hands.

Bree, my on again, off again friend is staring at herself in the mirror she recently hung in her locker. A huge make-up kit fills the rest of the locker. Not like she needs her locker for books or anything. A giant frown is plastered on her face as she strides over to me. This should be interesting.

She points to her chin; I don’t get it. What’s on her chin?

“Lucia!” She snaps my attention. Nervously, I check the ground, searching for any feathers that might’ve fallen from my jolt. “Don’t you see it?” It’s more of a demand than a question.

“No.” I say, taking a bored tone.

“No?” she repeats. “I’ve got a gigantic pimple.” In all honesty, it’s not as noticeable as she assumes it to be.

“It’s not that bad.” I try my best to calm her down. Of course, it doesn’t work.

“Easy for you to say, Miss Perfect Everything.” This is when being Bree’s friend gets annoying. But I guess I can understand her frustration. Since I am half angel, most of my appearance has angel-like qualities. I probably don’t look as glowing as my mom or dad. Isn’t that sad? I don’t know which one of my parents was the angel and which was the human.

We gather our things and go our separate ways when the bell rings.

The Key to getting away with things in class is simple. All you have to do is look up every few minutes and nod. Right now, I’m scribbling on a small piece of paper what’s on the back of my locket. It makes no sense, really. Nevertheless, I constantly try to figure out what these two cryptic lines mean.

The latter spirit rejuvenation

With its infinite capabilities

What could that possibly mean? Latter? Capabilities? It makes no sense. The bell rings, startling me. Bree is hovering over my desk, scanning the two lines. She always does that. Number two thing that annoys me about Bree: she is insanely nosy. I can never do something by myself. And I’m a loner in the first place.

“What was that?” She demands when I quickly crumple the piece of paper.

“It was nothing.”

“Nothing? The latter spirit rejuvenation with its infinite capabilities. What does that mean, Lucia?” I shrug and continue to walk, wishing she’d just go away.

“It just came to me.” I lie.

“No it didn’t.” she accuses harshly. “I saw you in class reading from that locket. Jeez Looch, since I met you, you’ve never taken it off.” I open my mouth, ready to defend myself when Bree silences me by putting her hand over my mouth. “And I know, I know, it was your mother’s and all but don’tcha think you can take it off once?” Technically what I told Bree wasn’t a lie. The locket could’ve belonged to my mom, but I don’t know. I just assume my mom was the angel.

“You don’t have to get mad, Bree. It doesn’t involve you.” For once. I add mentally.

Sighing, Bree storms off, leaving me and my thoughts alone.