For Wattpad Contests: Contest #12 - Write about someone with superpowers. | 8,933 words
Nevaeh didn't like to be the sweet, innocent child that her parents considered her. She didn't like the white clean-cut shirts she had to wear to church every Sunday, nor did she like her short brown hair and those blue eyes that just screamed, "Aren't I so precious?" She especially didn't like all the church readings, every sin cleansing she had to go through, all the communions, and every single passage that included anything about Jesus hating gay people (even though she knew it was complete bullshit).
Instead, she preferred to be a rebel. She snuck out at night, she hung out with the friends who were supposedly possessed by demons, she went to pride parades when she was supposed to be attending club meetings or other academic things, she did everything in her power to go against the norm and all of what her parents wanted her to be.
"Noah!" her mother called from downstairs.
Nevaeh especially didn't like her birth name.
"Coming, Mother!" she shouted. She pushed herself away from her desk, where she had been working on a piece of art to practice light and shading. She covered it with a different page of Christian-related doodles so nobody would question why she used so many pinks in her drawings. With heavy steps, she trudged down the stairs to meet her mother and siblings. The aroma of spaghetti wafted through the air, making her stomach growl. She looked at the table, wondering if she should sit at her usual spot or give herself some freedom.
"Can you help me set out the plates?" her mother asked. "Your father's arriving a bit late."
"Sure," Nevaeh replied. Her mother glared at her until she corrected herself, "Yes, ma'am." Her mother gave her an approving look and handed her plates and silverware. Nevaeh grabbed them and began setting the table. Her mother wiped her hands on her apron and moved into the living room to get Nevaeh's siblings. Upon the notice that dinner was ready, Trinity and the twins ran out to the dining room, chanting about food and subsequently slipping on the wood floor.
"I told you three not to run in the house!" their mother called from the hallway leading into the bedrooms.
"Sorry, Mother!" the three shouted back. They walked calmly over to the table, looking up at Nevaeh with wide eyes.
"How comes you get to help Mother with the plates?" Emmanuel babbled, his words still coming out in that weird toddler slur.
"Because I'm older," Nevaeh replied. "Mother just trusts me more not to break them."
"But we's old too!" Eve cried. "We can help with the table!"
"You're not very tall," Nevaeh pointed out, making sure she placed the silverware just the way her mother liked it.
"I'm tall!" Trinity objected, despite being barely over four feet. She was only eleven after all, though every time her age was brought up she pointed out that she was eleven and three quarters and therefore considered twelve years old.
"Alright, alright, I'm here." Their mother returned with their youngest brother, Gabriel, tucked in her arms. She hurried to the dining room and got him settled in his high chair before returning to the kitchen to serve the spaghetti and bread. However, before she was even to the stove, Gabriel began fussing.
"Remind me to never have children after this one," their mother mused, exasperated as she continued trying to get the food. Gabriel continued his tantrum, escalating it to crying and trying to push himself out of the chair. Luckily at that moment, their father burst in through the door.
"Something smells good!" he exclaimed. "What's cooking, darling?"
"Spaghetti!" their mother replied. "You're here just in time. Can you help with Gabriel for a second, honey?"
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