"Lilli Bellerose, pick your twin!" the ballet teacher, Madame DuPont, said turning to Lilli.
Seen it already. Not my cup of tea. I'll add it to my watch later list but I don't want to watch it right now.
Have you ever been woken up by the sounds of a baby crying? If you have, you will recall the piercing sound of a soul demanding immediate attention. Unable to speak, they scream.
Now seconds before eight o'clock in the evening, the EFR seemed deserted. It was dark and there was no sound - none at all. You couldn't even hear any birds chirping, probably because it was so cold, and they had all taken refuge. Only the occasional flickering of the street lamps, scattered across the school grounds, provided movement and sound. That is until the cathedral bell struck eight times, resonating loudly throughout the town. It was rapidly followed by an eruption of cheers from AFA students and teachers inside the royal dining hall.
As an Angeli Fidei, a divine creature of angelic status, I vow to protect the Hominis population from physical and spiritual harm, using my element and spiritual gift for good. At this stage, Melyna had recited this phrase hundreds of time and she repeated it once more for comfort. Today, she would tell her best friend Lilli, who she really was: an Angeli Fidei. After almost a decade of keeping her second identity a secret, Melyna felt it was time. Though the Angeli Fidei Academy (AFA) didn't forbid its students from informing a Hominis (human) of their identity, it was very much frowned upon as it could cause 'unnecessary complications'. Still, Melyna was sure Lilli would accept her for who she was, after all, they had known each other most of their lives. It would only bring them closer.
Despite her best efforts to ignore the pulsing vibrations in her head, Melyna could still feel drops of sweat trickling down her back. She was tense. Removing the crumpled bedsheets from her body, a cool breeze made the hairs on her arms stand up. She grabbed her silk gown from the bedside table and slowly made her way to the full-length mirror. Putting her arms through the sleeves, she groaned as the sore bruises on her arms and legs reminded her of her current state. Buckling slightly, she reached out and held on to the wooden chair next to the mirror, hoping to regain control of her trembling limbs. Closing her eyes, she remembered the exercises the nurse had taught her. Je m’appelle Melyna. I am seventeen-years-old. Je suis française. I moved to London. Je suis à l’hôpital. I am safe.