For the last year, Angeline Campbell was living in an orphanage with no memory of the last 35 years. The weirdest part? She's still 14. The other weirdest part? She has super powers.
But her life only gets weirder when a 58 year old man in a child'...
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♥︎Chapter seven: Grant Has Not Been Forgotten
❥Her eyes were rimmed red as they stung from staring through the bright window for the last two hours.
Angelina had stuck to her pledge of not falling asleep. Quite an easy task, except when you run out of things after the first hour. The second was spent in a useless attempt of trying to repair her broken necklace and any other necklaces that had been broken in the midst of Five's little experiment barely six hours earlier.
The next two were spent rereading every form of book (including the fire safety manual) that sat in her room at least seven times until the words had started to look like blurred ink on the page. Once that had happened, she had taken to reorganizing everything in her room, starting with her closet as she hung up all her sweaters, sweater vests and turtlenecks in color order, until she decided that it didn't look good and spent another hour just deciding on how to order her clothes.
While she was in the process of doing so, her mind had begun playing tricks on her. Whether it was from sleep deprivation or just total insanity, she wasn't sure. She started seeing random shadows from the corner of her eye, every time she wasn't looking, but it would always catch her eye.
She tried to ignore it until she spotted something move in the alley from the window, causing her to scramble towards the glass just as the sun sat just below the horizon. For the next two hours, she had not seen a thing, but she was determined.
It had crossed her mind more than once, that maybe it was just from all that talk about her powers seemingly revolving around the dark, but she didn't want to admit that she might actually be going crazy.
Something she also wouldn't admit to herself at the time was that it wasn't just the sleepless night she feared by falling asleep, but also the dream that had been haunting her. Sure, she used it as an excuse for staying awake, telling herself that it would only tire her out more, but it genuinely freaked her out.
So call her all-nighter a distraction from her fears, but she preferred to refer to it as a way to be productive without going through the sleep she wouldn't be getting anyway.
In the end, neither were true, as she sat at the window until the sun sat high in the sky, lighting up the pool of darkness that had never surrounded her, as she kept a small table lamp on the whole night. Something she knew Miss Pritchett would give her hell for if she noticed it at any point during the night. But she wasn't worried. She wouldn't be waiting around long enough for anyone to come knock on her door.
After some difficulty of pulling herself away from the glass pane, her only motivator being the sound of others rising from their slumbers within the building, she rose from her cross-legged position on the floor, her muscles stiff, her joints achy.
