✨New Wings✨

Chapter 4

When I open my eyes again in the morning, I am surprised that my mom didn't wake me up to go to school this morning. She thinks that school is mandatory, even when you're throwing up in the toilet she says, " Ok, when you're done get dressed and ready for school!".
     I slump downstairs with bed head and crusty eye boogers in my eyes. The entire house has been returned to its usual " not a speck out of place" cleanliness. Whenever I clean my room, Mom feels the need to "inspect" it, and afterwards always says, " Obviously, your definition of perfect is different than mine." I see my mom in the kitchen, washing her hands. She is dressed in an elegant blue shirt, fancy Miss Me jeans, and high heels. She has makeup on, and has curled her hair to perfection. I can see her diamond earrings glint in the light. " Mom, why are you so dressed up?" I ask. " For your school interview." She says shortly, like she has told me this a million times. " Interview? But Mom, I already go to a school." Then it hits me. Protector Private School. " Honey, now that you know, you have to go. You can't just carry on with a normal human life." I haven't even said anything, and my plan is already in action! I go over it once more in my head...

1- Go to the school
2- Train
3- Understand society/ become educated
4- Sneak out
5- Find the Evil base
6- Form an army
7- Destroy them once and for all

    It occurs to me that to form an army, I have to get friends and get them to join my cause. My Mom must have noticed my dreamy expression and snaps me out of my trance by saying " Katelyn, the interview is at 11:00, get dressed!" After eating a frosted cereal slowly, savoring what could be my last normal meal ( because who knows what angels eat! Probably like light and air and weird stuff) I dash upstairs, tripping on the top step and face planting on the carpet. My nose burns and feels like it's going to catch fire. Not to mention I probably stubbed my toe. Oh no, what if I do that at school? All anyone will say about me is " Look, Klutzy Katelyn fell again." or " Did you hear about that human transfer? I heard she can't stay on her feet for more than 2 minutes, much less fly!" Oh. My. Gosh. I can't even fly! What if that's part of my interview? I bet everyone else has been flying since they were 6 years old!
       My heart starts to beat really fast, and I can't control my breathing. The ground feels like it's swooping below me. The walls are closing in, and I press my hands against the cold plaster, but I can't keep them from crushing me. My stomach is trying to free itself from my body. Ignoring the dizziness, I sprint towards the bathroom. My hands reach the cold metal just as the burning crawls up my throat. Everything is cold, the tile floor, the white toilet, the air.  I distantly hear my Mom's feet pounding up the stairs. It sounds like my head is underwater, and all sounds are muffled. I am finally brought back to my senses by the feeling of my mom rubbing my back in small circular motions, and the sound of a gurgling toilet. " Urg. Thanks Mom. I don't know what came over me." I look at her apologetically. I feel a burning in my chest, and feel... grateful. For the first time, I see my mother in a new light. She cooks for me, does my laundry, helps me with homework, and works full time, even if it is at home. I feel salty tears well up in my eyes, but force them back.
" Thanks." I say again, this time truly meaning it. She smiles and gently says " It's ok honey, you were probably just nervous about the interview. I know I was, when I had mine. But don't worry, Freedom is really nice,".  " Who's Freedom?" I ask, thoroughly confused. " She's the Headmistress. And, for now, your personal tutor." 

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     After half an hour of frantic cleaning and getting dressed, I am prepared for the interview. I think. I am dressed in a white shirt and black leather jacket of my father's, which is cold against my skin. My ripped jeans is another aspect of my carefully designed look. I am trying to look as tough as possible, in case this Freedom lady has any opinions on new human raised recruits. My eyes are dusted with a gold powder, which sparkles in the light. My lips are colored with a dark red lipstick. As we roll into a dark, protected looking area, I make myself swear to keep up a tough, quiet, mysterious demeanor throughout  the entire interview, no matter what happens. We pull out of the garage, and began driving towards the meeting place. We turn off the road, into a small trail, leaving all civilization behind.

A/n
Last chapter today! Please dm me for critiques and ways I can make my writing better. Comment questions, comments, and ideas.
✨PotterheadSupreme✨🙃😘