Westerfield: Chapter 15

Alana had trouble sleeping that night. As she tossed and turned in an attempt at falling asleep, her mind kept replaying Samuel's words from dinner. He had made Alana his benefactor, but why? She could not understand it. Surely someone else would be a better candidate for such a position? Alana sighed to herself as she threw the covers off of her body. Her movements were jerky from her growing irritability from being unable to sleep.


She groggily sat up, a scowl on her heart-shaped face. The moonlight streaming in through the windows of the bedroom fell across her pale complexion. The light was just enough to allow Alana to see what she was doing, and any possible obstacles in her path. She slowly maneuvered her body off of her bed and slid her feet into a pair of ducky slippers that were resting on the floor. Alana loved her duckies, her pajamas consisting of rubber ducky printed pants and a tight white tank top.


Her footsteps were soft as Alana shuffled slowly to the door to the hallway. She barely made a sound as she moved to the kitchen. On her way she took a quick peek into Samuel's room, grinning as she saw the old man snoring softly in bed, complete with a sleeping cap. She continued on her way, finally coming to a short stop in the kitchen. Alana quietly poured herself a glass of water and headed out to the front porch.


The stillness of the early morning comforted Alana, even if the dense rolling fog from beneath the cypress chilled her bones. She slowly eased herself down into one of the rocking chairs, her hand still wrapped around her cup. Closing her eyes, she took in a slow, long sip. A soft smile found its way onto her lips as she withdrew the cup from her mouth and looked upon the flowers in the front garden. The moonlight bathed them in a new kind of beauty, one that seemed fragile to Alana. She longed for the early morning moment to last, but she knew that in a matter of an hour or so it would be over with the rising sun.


The End

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