The Children's Home

Chapter 4: My First Night

TRIGGER WARNINGS: NONE

CWs: NONE

Edited: 5-16-24

The sound was footsteps. Lady Christine Folman's footsteps.

Flinging open the creaky door, she called, "Miss Jones! Miss Blair! I presume you will be joining us for dinner?"

"Yes, my lady," we chorused. I groaned at all the useless pomp and ceremony we had to undergo.

"Then put on some better clothes. Your uniform, Miss Jones, and your soiled shirt and torn jeans, Miss Blair," she pointed out with a look of disgust, "are not considered acceptable at the table. Miss Jones, will you lend her some suitable attire for Miss Blair to wear? I expect you to be ready in ten minutes. Dinner will be served at five o'clock sharp."

With a flourish, she left the room with a small "hmph!", nose in the air.

Thirty minutes later, we trailed out of our room into an elegant dining room. Winnie had tamed my snarled dark brown hair into two neat braids and lent me a dark blue dress. As soon as I stepped inside, nine pairs of eyes fixed their gaze on me.

"Uh, Winnie?" I hissed. "Why is everybody looking at me like that? Do I still look a little dirty?"

Winifred had attempted to remove as much dirt off of my face as possible in ten minutes, but I hadn't felt completely secure.

"No, everything's all right. We're just not used to new orphans, that's all," she assured me. "It's been two years since our latest arrival, a little girl named Leanna Blackwell, came."

We took our seats.

"Children," Lady Folman announced, "we have a new resident."

The sound of murmuring filled the air.

The woman clapped her hands to silence the chatter. "SILENCE!

All sounds abruptly ceased. The room was now eerily quiet.

"Thank you. Her name is Nadia Blair, and she is a Pyrokinetic," she continued. "You will make her feel welcome. I do expect you to introduce yourselves. State your name, age, and ability. We shall start with you, Mr. Fisher."

A boy of around ten stood up. He had curly red hair, green eyes, and a mischievous grin.

"Me name's Toby Fisher," he casually introduced himself. "I'm ten years old and a Telepath. Pleasure t'meet ya!" He had a slight Cockney accent and appeared to be concentrating very hard on his grammar.

"Thank you, Mr. Fisher. Miss Pickett?"

"My name is Alyssa. Alyssa Pickett. I am fifteen, and my special ability is Telekinesis," a dark-haired girl with blue eyes declared, projecting her voice so all could hear.

"And now, will you introduce yourself, Miss Blackwell?"

Silence.

"Miss Blackwell, show yourself."

A girl with emerald green eyes appeared. "I'm Leanna Blackwell. I'm seven, and I can turn invisible." Her voice was a barely audible whisper.

So, this is the newest addition. Poor kid looks scared of her own skin.

"Your power is invisibility," clarified Alyssa.

"Yes, that!" squeaked Leanna as she fiddled with a strand of wavy, light brown hair. "Oh, I forgot! Call me Leah."

"Leah's very shy," whispered Winnie.

"Now, Mr. Wells, why don't you go next?"

"All right," a surly black-haired boy agreed. "My name's Archer Wells, I'm seventeen, and my ability is Electrokinesis."

"May I go next? Pleeeeease?" a girl with cinnamon-colored skin, dark brown—almost black—hair styled in dreadlocks, and dark brown eyes pleaded.

Lady Folman begrudgingly acknowledged her presence. "Yes, of course, Miss Collins."

"I'm Hallie Collins! I'm twelve, and I can create force fields. Welcome!" Hallie chirped.

More kids stood up and introduced themselves. There was Amiyah Richards, a thirteen-year-old Technopath; Hunter, a Geokinetic with a haunted look in his eyes; sunshiney nine-year-old Vanessa Cooke, a curly-headed redhead who could fly; and Aidan Gray, a Hydrokinetic, whose name ironically meant "fire." Winnie was last. Out of the kids, she seemed the most defiant, her blue eyes flashing with untamed fierceness.

Lady Folman rose from her seat. "Thank you, children. Now let us enjoy the wonderful supper our staff has prepared for us."

As soon as she finished speaking, Agatha stepped into the room gracefully, carrying steaming plates of grilled chicken, vegetables, and rice. My stomach growled. I hadn't eaten a square meal in months—or maybe years. Sure, I'd had some actual meals during my short stays in the System. Mrs. Bartholomew cooked the best homemade lasagna. But while on the run, I was lucky if I could get my hands on a quarter-pounder and some fries from McDonald's. Most of the time, I grabbed an energy bar from Walmart, making sure to pay with the meager cash I owned, of course. I may have been a runaway, but I was no thief. As soon as Agatha set my plate before me, I grabbed my fork and started digging in. In about five minutes, I was done.

Alyssa snickered. "So much for being ladylike."

"Shut it, Alyssa!" Winnie scolded. "If you were on the streets without a meal for a long time, you'd do the same thing."

After this scene, the rest of the evening passed by rather uneventfully. Around eight o'clock, Lady Folman ordered us off to bed. I stumbled along the corridor to our room. My eyes felt heavy. Rubbing them, I yawned. Winnie pointed out my bed, tossed me some pajamas, and told me to get a good night's sleep. Collapsing onto the bed, I pulled on my borrowed PJs and crawled under the covers. That was the last thing I remembered before my eyes shut and I drifted off to sleep.