Welcome To Westover

Always

My heart thumped against my chest as I sat up in a haste, slamming the light on so the room was plunged into life. I gulped for breath as I wiped the sweat from my brow, blinking away the terror of the night. I always woke up before my alarm - I hadn't slept soundly since I was a child, but I was used to it by this point. My mind boggled as I turned off my alarm and collapsed back onto my bed, regaining my breath. I squeezed my eyes shut as I heard my door open, and my 'mother' walked in quietly. She sat down on my bed and sighed.

"You were screaming again."

I rolled my eyes as I turned over and looked at her. She was wearing the cheap fluffy robe I'd bought her for Christmas, and her blonde hair was pinned up in a messy bun. She pursed her lip as she noticed the sweat that gleamed off my forehead and shook her head in worry.

"Nightmare, or you saw a spider?" She laughed in a false attempt to brighten the situation and looked away from me.

"I'm fine." I grunted, turning over and closed my eyes, urging her to leave.

"I wish you'd tell me what you're so afraid of." She got up and walked to my door, turned around to say something, but decided against it. She closed the door as she left, and I looked up at the ceiling. I heaved a sigh of exhaustion as I rose up and padded my feet on the cold wooden floor. Tentatively, I placed them into my slippers and stretched in attempt to wash off the aura of sleep, and yawned heavily. Today would not be a great day, I could feel it.

-

"So what do you have today?" Nancy asked, sophisticatedly placing a forkful of pancakes in her mouth. I looked up from my own breakfast and cleared my throat, ever-wanting to be left alone.

"Maths. English. The usual." I mumbled, once again focusing on the cold food lying on my plate. She smiled and hummed an 'ah' and returned to her food. I hadn't seen David today, Nancy's husband, my 'father', nor had I seen little Jamie - the only person I actually had any form of relationship with in this house. He was six and such a little sweetheart, always happy and made me smile if I was having a bad day. He was David and Nancy's kid, a 'miracle baby' as they often told him, as Nancy had been diagnosed with infertility ten years ago. They'd only begun fostering me just over four months ago. I never lasted long with the countless amounts of family I'd been placed in over the years.

"You better get going. You don't want to be late." Nancy urged, exaggeratedly tapping her wrist to signify the time. I rolled my eyes and pulled on my bag, taking a few steps towards the door. I turned on my heels and clicked my tongue.

"Where's Jamie?" I asked, looking at the wall instead of at her.

"David took him to school early. Why?"

"We were gonna go to the park after school. Is that okay?"

"Um, sure. So I don't need to pick him up?"

"No. I'll walk him home."

And I left. I ignored the yells of "Keep your phone on." "Home by five." "Don't talk to strangers." I could distantly hear coming from the house. Glancing at my watch, I did notice that Nancy was right - I didn't want to get another detention for being late, but I didn't worry too much. I had a hunch that I wouldn't be late. I often had hunches like that - they didn't always turn out like I'd expected, sometimes I jumped the gun on a feeling I had felt towards something and it turned out the complete opposite of what I had expected. I never took it too seriously, but my amazing fourth-sense I felt did often help to get me out of trouble. Picking my pace up to a jog, I ran to the school I hated so much, and arrived at the gate just as the bell rang to call them to their forms.

Form was basically ten minutes of sitting in silence and waiting to see who the poor, unfortunate folk who would be receiving their late detentions today. I sat reading, a habit I'd never shaken from when one of my older foster families read to me before I went to bed. It was about the only point of school I thoroughly enjoyed - getting lost in a book and feeling as if you lived in these fantasy lands with no worries at all. A quick glance at my latest report reaffirmed my right to worry.