The Angel within - Nikkie Youngeblood (ebook reader browser .txt) 📗

swallowed, the fridged air filling me with ice. Maggie's fury towards me had always been alarming. But I failed to realize that behind her words was something that was entirly accurate. The truth.

 

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Sunrays peaked through the rather tattered curtains, giving he area an ethereal glow. It was foreign, and I could only watch as he orphanage transformed into something it usually wasn't. If I had been an outsider, I would've believed this place held moments that consisted of utmost perfection and beauty. A place the revolved around an infinite amount of happiness. Thiugh I knew better. Beyond this building's public facade was something being held by a darkness. It could've sufficed as everyone's worst nightmare.

Maybe it was the orphans that seemed so hell-bent on getten up on the pedistal. Or perhaps it was the fact that we were all so very alone that there was nothing alse to lose. But overall, the dignity and optimism that kept is going, that reminds us that we did have something to lose. And eventually we just wither away, sink into the grim abyss as mere shells of what we used to be. Though we hang onto one last hope. A prayer that there will be someone who would be a new experience, a fresh morning sun, the first raindrop after a drought.

 

You see, each visitor counted, for they could be a whole new gate to something we lost long ago. Life. Together, we made a leap into the oblivion. All twelve girls stood side by side, chins held high as we awaited. The skin on my shoulders feel heavy, my muscles bundling up into a pile of pain beneath it. At times like this I wish that I were a snake. So I could shed out of my own skin, and slither into the sunset with the dark of my tail fallowing me like a shadow. There was a creaking, like the floor was groaning from beneath our feet. And then, Margarate entered the room with three long strides, fae impassive and polite. The freckles on her face seem more prominent, more scattered perhaps; reminding me of sand in the desert.

"Girls, as you all know, there's a visitor with us today. Be polite and keep your answers short. Especially you Chelsea,"  Margaret muttered, pointing a stiff finger towards her victim. She earned a mumbled protest in return. "Everyone, welcome in Macy Ske."

 

At that moment, I wondered what drowning felt like. I imagened my toes curling over the side of the pier, while the black water bobs below. And I will jump, take the plunge and let it all fill my lunges with sharp, cold water. My body will shiver is shock, my chest will constrict with cold, as a charge of cool electric shocks igniting my senses. A nd I'll never feel more alive in my last breathing seconds.

 

But this wasn't a battle in the sea. No, this was real life. Yet, I still feel claustrophobic, rigid, and empty. I still feel like I was drowning.

I t was quiet before the sound of steps echoed within the halls of the room. They were loud. But just by the melody of it, I can tell they were graceful. It's only a matter of time when she enters the room, and when she does, all of us can't help but gaze at her beauty.

   She looks so young, but her soft, aging wrinkles debunks everyone of our theories. Her londe hair is more on the brownish side, and it lies in waves againts her sides. Although, it's her overpowering scent that cathes my attention. It suffocates the room and it's hard not to notice. When I take a whiff. it fills my nostrils, invading my airways with a mucky, wooden scent.

 

She's not human,' my wolf scarlett, ovserves. Her words throw me off the rail, making my heart clench in a bad way, My palms feel clammy, sticky. 'What could she be then?' I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. I continue to scrutinize the visitor, taking note that she looks too comfortable in her own skin. She's looking at us confidently, and I wonder if she, too, knew I was not normal.

   'She's a werewolf, Charlotte,' Scarlett clarifies, in a way that that I could've thought she was irritated. I stiffen and I want to believe that she was lying. But wolves never lied, they were brutally honest, faithfully genuine. It was both a streangth and a weakness.

Just when I was about to say more, I relized Macy's zeroing gaze on e, Margaret just beside her. "Macy, this is Charlotte Taken. She's seventeen, nearly eighteen and she's been with the orphanage for almost thirteen years," Margaret goes on, and it dawns upon me that they're doing introductions. My eyes flicker towards Macy, gauging for her reaction. 

 

   Her expression is thoughtful, gazing at my hood like it was the strangest thing she had ever seen. When she prepares to speak, I have an inkling feeling that she'll point it out. She doesn't. "Where's her parents?"

 "There location is unknown, at the moment," Margaret replied, droning as she talks. "Charlotte was brought here by bystanders. No birth certificate or records whatsoever." Her revelation has a great impact on Macy. Her eyes are wide now, her mouh practically pleading for bugs to come in. And when she glances back at me, she's entirely too perceptive. 

"Oh dear. I'm sorry," Macy apologizes, even though it's not her fault. I take a ragged breath, forcing my head to nod. She's attempting to be empathetic, but she can only hear, not listen.

 

It is when I detect movement. I cast my head downwards, just in time to see Macy's hand moving it's way towards mine. She clasps it, and I immediatly feel our werewolf connection take place. It's when a werewolf crosses another werewolf. Despite being strangers to one another, we find comfort in our mutalism.

  She gasps, the sudden awareness taking her back. Everyone is watching our peculiar exchange now and I fidget in the limelight. I tug at her fingers. "Are you okay?" I can't help but look into her eyes, worriedly.

 

Lookingback up, she's staring at me like i'm a whole different person. She squeezes my hand, the lightness of her touch almost unnoticeable. She smiles. "I'm fine. It was ice meeting you, Charlotte."

   After that, they leave abruptly, silently announcing the end of the introductions. Everyone quickly scrambles for the exit, knowing Margaret will call us down once Macy has made her final decision.

"What was that about?" Maggie asked from behind me. I turn around facing her directly because I find it unnerving when talking to someone I cannot see. Though, when I do, I wish I hadn't. Her face was twisted into a scowl, but there's an oddness to it I could not comprehend.

I only shrugged,

 

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I always wondered what it was about society that seemed to change us. We were like zombies, walking the faces of earth with hearts emptyer than voids. It seemed to suck us in until there was no light to rescue us from the darkness.

  On the outside, we were dead. But it only took a little push to make us alive again. To make us feel like we were individuals who had stories to tell. 

 

The girls and I sat on our designated beds, each one of us anticipating for what's to come. It was impossible to keep still; we tremble, we shook, and we hummed. No one bothers to speak, for a silence like this had only been pleasing. "God, I can't wait anymore. I just want them to come." Chelsea groaned, shoving her face into the soft of her pillow. 'That's what she said," Scarlett snickered. I rolled my eyes at her immaturity, finding it more irking than amusing.

 

"Girls! You can come back down now," Margaret called from downstairs. Almost instantaneously, everyone got to their feet, soon bustling their way down the stairs. I blinked, trailing behind them rather reluctantly.  It happened too quickly for my liking, and we were aready in positions. I stood there, my body beginning to shake from suppressed emotion as I kept my gaze averted from the sole situation. Anxiety crept upon my heart, bounding it, and threw it againts my chest.

 

My fingers enclosed into a tight fist, my knuckles adopting a whitish color. My eyes fluttering closed, and from behind my eyelides, I could see a world of stars. And somehow, I feel alright.

 "Macy, you've already made your decision, who would you like?"

 

Before I could controle my actions, my eyes wondering up to Macy's face. But, her attention was already on me, her look filled with awe and curiosity. She tilted her head in my direction. It was intense; the tension was as thick, yet as delicat, as glass. Macy's reply would be like a hammer, falling heavy and fast, ready to shatter it.           And, that, it did. Her announcment eemed to resound through our bodies, burningour ears. And for a fleeting moment, I swore that I had turned deaf.

 

                                                         "Charlotte Taken."

Bonding

Charlotte's pov.

 

 

""I suggest you start packing, Charlotte." Margaret stated, dazed by macy's answer. I only nodded, also dazed. Why did mavy choose me? Out of all 12 girl she shoose me! The cloaked coward, the mysteriose one, the lonely one..

 

"Macy, please follow me so you can fill out some forms." Magaret said, lifelessly. Macy followed her but she didn't forget to look around suspicously, confused why everyone was so strange. Soon both of them left all of our sights.     I snapped out of my thoughts and made my way upstairs. The whole orphanage was unusually quiet even the dogs outside that don't seem to shut up! Figures, the cloaked coward was getting adopted.!

 

I began packing. I left all of todays events sink into my mind. Should I be happy?  I was getting adopted and I was going to have a real family again. Family.... A larg smile erupted onto my face. I liked the idea of family, they're always by your side whenever you needed them. Most of the time.... My smile dropped.

 What if they were cruel people? But Macy seemed nice...... But looks can be deceving! since they're also werewolves, what if their whole pack hates me? I stiffened. A pack can go up to about 300 werewolves. Just imagine, 300 werewolves being desgusted by me... The idea was horrifying.

 

I sighed, I was used to hate anyway. I've been hated by 99% of the people I met since I put the damn hood on.  Speaking of my hood, what