When Angels Fall

~excerpt~
There is a monster. The monster only visits me at night in my dreams. he calls my name and reaches for me. Sometimes he catches me, but most of the time he doesnt. My mom is there yet he doesnt go after her, just me. When he catches me he leaves bruises and burns. The heat from his body is so hot it burns my skin. I cry out to momma yet she doesnt hear me, no one does. The monster is evil, the monster is cruel. The monster will always haunt me, be watching me. I know this because he told me so. ~end excerpt~

I stared out the car window watching the raindrops dance downward, and the buildings pass. Today I would meet my new foster parents Mr. and Mrs. Daniels. I was told that they were great people who had a daughter a year older than me. Yet i personally believe the orphange just wanted to get rid of me since they cant throw me on the streets until i turn 18. Two more years was a lifetime to them.

The driver entered a surburban area. There were trees over the houses. Trees! Kids were playing in the streets, where i come from thats a death wish. So Margie the Great actually managed to find me a good temporary hideout. Congrates to her. Margie the Great is my Social Worker, and the fact is she isnt great at all. She only puts up with me for the pay check. If you know her as a person she's impatient, inconsiderate, and the HUGHEST suck up. Between me and her we hold a mutual agreement. I wont tell about her negletive, insensitive behavior and she throws me in homes and gets me out of trouble.

After driving a couple of blocks through pleasantville the driver turns into a driveway of a blue and white house. It's huge. Blue shutters, the rest of the house is painted white, and on each side of the house is a little row of flowers that look as if they're trying despertly to survive, but this is a battle they'll lose for sure. Whoever this lady is she has no green thumb.

I get my backpack and duffle bag out the backseat and head towards the front door. The driver doesnt even wait to see if someone's home, figures he isnt a very patient man anyway and carries the mouth of a sailor. But what can i say, so do i. I hesitate before knocking on the door. All I have to do is last for two years here and stay out of trouble, then when i hit 18 im gone. No more foster parents, no more Margie, and no more orphanages. It's just me, a far off college, and the world in my hands. I ring the door bell, then wait.

The neighbor hood is like the one off of Denise the Menace, except I dont see Denise. Seems like a great place to raise your children but like the old profit back in Vandetta use to say, "Everything and everyone has secrets." and this neighborhood might have thier secrets buried in the backyards. A woman with shoulder length blond hair comes to answer the door. She covers her mouth with her hands and lets out a cheerful scream of joy. Wow, people here must have problems. She motions me to come in, then runs to the kitchen and returns with a plate of cookies.

"Come in, come in!" She chants. "My name's Leala and this is your new home. Like it?" Was she always this cheery?

"Yes ma'am." I say. Yes ma'am is a habit, yes ma'am is respectful, or at least that's what i learned.

"Was the trip here any trouble?" She looked at me concerned.

"No ma'am." I answer.

"Not much of a talker are you? Want some cookies?" It would be rude not to taste one. Naurally i reached for them.

"Thank You." The cookie has already been eatten.

"You know what? I bet the reason you're not talking is because you're hungry. Did you eat breakfast this morning, or wait its lunch time now." She thinks out loud.

"No ma'am." She lifts an eyebrow.

"They didnt feed you breakfast? Why breakfast is the most important meal of the day and they neglected to feed you it? Come sweetheart lets see what we got to eat in here, im not much of a cook but i can figure something out." She leads me to the kitchen.

Mrs. Leala seems to be a nice lady and gives of that motherly feeling. So far i've come the the conclusion that Leala Daniels is a cheery, motherly, no cooking woman probably a housewife. Yet she gets a star in my book. Dont get too attached Alan, she's just another foster parent and this is just another temporary foster home. Temporary is my life. When you're and orphan that's past the age of 5, no one wants you. Instead you're just passed around until you hit 18. Then you have a choice, go to college and make your own life, or live in the streets and risk the chance of going to jail.

The Ophanage was too busy getting me ready to leave that I didnt have time to eat breakfast. Skipping meals was normal, sometimes i dont eat all day, it's just a wierd thing i do. Mrs. Leala made me a sandwich. It was stacked with pickles, tomatoes, lettuce, ham, cheese, and fresh bread. At the orphanage we get crusty, old, stale bread. They cant help it, they live off the state and donation, and no one hardly donates anymore. Hunger takes over and like the cookie withen five minutes the sandwich is gone. She looks at me in disbelief then goes to make me another one, but i stop her, telling her im full. It's a lie but it satisfies her enough to bringer back to the table and sit across from me.

"So what's your name?" Conversation must be her thing.

"Alan." One word, that's all she needs to know.

"Well Alan, do you want me to show you to your new room?" I nod. The basement was my first thought but to my surprise she placed me in the guest room, down the hall from her room.

The bedroom is one of the biggest i've seen by far. It has four white walls, and queen size bed (im use to a twin), a small oak dresser, and a desk with a computer on it. A real modern computer, not the one from 1995. I make not to do so serious downloading in the future. Besides the computer on the floor are a few buckets of paint and a couple of brushes. The Champainge carpet kind of amazes me, it's rather a light color for a woman with a kid. But they look like they have enough money to get it shampooed once a week. Leala places my bags on the bed, i would have carried them but she insisted.

"Um we didnt know what color paint you'd want for your room so we placed them all up here." She let out a nervous laugh. "But make yourself at home and enjoy your new bedroom." Leala turns to walk away.

"Excuse me." i ask, Leala looks my way. "What are the rules?" She looks clueless. "The house rules?"

"Oh." She laughes. "Um well dont lie, if you plan on going somewhere let someone know. If you have a problem come to us, we're always eagar to help. And..we basically add on when the need seems fit." Silence. "Well im gonna go and start dinner. Call me if you need anything." She exits.

Poor woman, she probably thinks I dont like her. I admit i do come off as distant but that just me. I glance at the blank walls. At this moment i feel like i always do, alone. There is a pencil on the desk next to the computer, i pick it up and began to draw on the blank wall that the desk sits on. I draw to excape this feeling and place myself somewhere else other than here. I just draw.....

Lady Leala doesnt bother me for another five hours. I began to guess that dinner is giving her a little trouble. Instead of roaming the house and getting to know my surroundings I finish painting my wall. It isnt finished yet but the pencil drawing is done, and the first coat of paint is on. The rest can wait till tomorrow, right now im alittle tired. Maybe a nap would be a good idea.

Leala sits at the dinner table waiting on her roast to come out the oven, until then she sits at the table drinking a cup of green tea. Alan doesnt seem like the talkative type, and seems rather distant. But what do you expect from a child is thrown from one home to another? Everything is new to her and it's going to take some time for her to get use to it. The garage door opens up, her husband is home. Micheal Daniels enters the kitchen to find his wife not fully attentive. Something happened.

"What's wrong?" He asked cautiously.

"Huh? Oh nothing. How was your day?" She said looking up at him.

"Fine, the usual." He placed his briefcase on the counter.

"Guess what?" He lifted an eyebrow. "Alan's here."

"Really? Where is she?" Micheal began to walk towards the livingroom.

"In her new room." Leala began to follow.

Leala cracked open the door to peer into Alan's room. Micheal opened the door all the way. "We pay the bills." He retorted. Alan was lying in the center of the bed asleep. Micheal looked at the child, and took in her physical characteristics. She had long brown hair, currently in a ponytail, a egptian tan like skin, and apparently loved baggy clothes. That or the orphanage didnt have much of a selection. Then is attention fell to the half painted wall.

"Honey look." he wispered pointing to it.

"Wow. It's beautiful." Leala was a big fan of art and walked up to wall. The paint was still wet.

Alan had painted a girl on the wall that looked exactly like herself. The character set in a windowsill, aparantly lonely looking out on the night sky. Above the window was little foreign alhabets. Either way Leala thought of Alan as a artist.

Chapter 2
I dont wake up until Lady Leala comes and tells me that dinner is ready. Downstairs everyone is at the table, except me. When i enter i see Mr. Daniels sitting across from Mrs. Daniels, their daughter is going to be seated across from me. Mr. Daniels is a tall man, alittle on the skinny side, not alot of muscles but not boney either. He has Sandy blond hair and a narrow face. Their daughter, who's name has slip my mind, is alittle shorter than me maybe an inch. She has long blond hair that most girls daydream about and the body of a cheerleader from on of those teen movies. My gut is telling me she is. She has blue eyes like her father, and the facial features of her mother. Lady Leala is the hieght of her daughter, but has red hair, not blond. Her eyes are a hazel color and she has the same body as her daughter, yet contains more curves.

Quizzyness fills my stomach as i enter the room. All eyes are on me, something i hate. I sit quitly at the seat i think i was assigned. Mr. Daniels welcomes me to the house, Lady Leala asks me how was my nap, and No name introduces herself. They call her Jessica. Typical. Dinner isn't bad. The brick of meat needs more salt, and the vegetables are blah. But all in all it's a meal, and im still alive.

"So Alan, tell us about yourself." Jessica says. She makes me think im doing an interview.

"What is it you want to know?" I ask. There's no use putting my business it the street, when all i have to do is ask a question and that person gets an answer.

"What's your name? It cant be Alan, i mean that's a guy's name." Jessica throws out.

"Jessica." Lady Leala sends her a warning.

"What? Im just asking a simple question. What's her real name? Is that a problem?" She looks from her mother to her father.

"It's Alana." I say finishing off my plate.

In case you haven't knoticed, i can eat alot. Right now im practically starving, but why eat all these people food? They worked to get the paycheck to buy it. Who am i to step in and deprivve them of eatting the food that labored for?

Habitually i take my soiled plate to the sink and began to clean it. I didnt reconize the dishwasher, and found the fact that they use a sponge to clean dishes alittle on the 'weird' side. At the orphanage and my past foster home we hand washed the dishes with a dish cloth.