The Fallen Angel

Chapter I

I couldn't sleep, I hadn't slept for days. It had been years since the night terrors, but something had made them return. Doctors said they were normal for a child, but they happened every night when I was little, at the same hour, on the same minute. When morning came, though, I could never remember a thing.

The difference was that I could remember them now. I could remember all of it, and they were terrifying. I was afraid to sleep, because every time I closed my eyes, I could see him, standing at the foot of my bed, staring at me. That's all it was: he didn't move, he didn't speak, but once and a while, when I was quite a bit younger, I would catch a glimpse of a shadow in broad day light that would make my heart stop then and there.

My alarm shook me from my thoughts. I was too tired to even think, but somehow, I made it out of bed that morning. My Dad had gone to work, so I was left in the eerie silence of my empty house. We hadn't unpacked all the boxes yet, which made me feel even more alone then I already was. It didn't feel like home, and I didn't think it ever would. It was big, quite a lot bigger than the house I had grown up in. It had three bedrooms, two guest rooms and one too many bathrooms for a crowd of only two people. Everything was old and in need of repair, but it had this air to it that I couldn't quite put my finger on. It held a sense of timeless elegance, I suppose.

I tried to hide the dark circles from my eyes, but no amount of makeup could make me seem the least bit enthusiastic about going back to school. I looked dead. Something that would surely get me loads of new friends, I thought. I didn't really care for being popular. It used to be my main focus back home, but I had lost interest in the whole sham of it. All I wanted was to finish high school and finally get on with my life.

I drank my cup of coffee, not wanting craving anything else so early in the morning. It was my main source of nutrition during the previous weeks. I blamed my addiction on my father, who couldn't leave the house without a cup and had two waiting for him later at his office. The lack of sleep took away my appetite, making me looking thin and sickly. Maybe it was the stress, I didn't really know.

I grabbed the bag I had prepared the evening before and got into my car. The weather was dreary and cold, not a ray of sun in the sky.

My father had placed me into the pristine South Shore Academy, where your child's success flourishes, it wrote in big letters on the school's website. With my Dad's new job, he finally had the money to put me into private school, just like he had always wanted. Private school is a safer environment for your education, he used to say. I couldn't really see the appeal. The only difference was that I had to wear an ugly dark green skirt every day.

I drove into the school parking lot filled with expensive cars. Next to them, mine looked like it came out of the sewers, but I liked my old car; it still smelled of my Mom's perfume.

I grabbed my sweater from the passenger seat and stepped out into the misty rain. It looked like a castle from where I stood and I already knew I didn't belong there, just by looking at it.

I walked inside, my shoes leaving wet tracks behind me. I followed the directions to the secretary's office and after a few wrong turns, I finally made it to her door. It would take me months to figure out where everything was, or maybe even a few years. Thank God I only had one left to do. I hesitated a moment, but finally knocked on the door. After a brief moment of silence, I could hear her heels click against the floor. The door opened and she stepped aside, gesturing me wordlessly to step in and closed it behind once I was inside. I took a seat and glanced around the room as she scoured through the stack of papers. There was nothing really special about the place aside from a few family pictures displayed on her desk.

"What can I help you with?" she finally asked after a long pause. She wouldn't stop staring at me with a large smile plastered on her face and I began growing uncomfortable. She had bleach white teeth and platinum blond hair that was a little too extravagantly placed for my taste. She was every stereotype rolled into one, disproportioned woman.