Hidden (Hidden Series Book One) Read Online Free

friendship bracelet. I’d thrown the fake one in
the trash; the one they’d told everyone I’d spent hours on.
    That day, Sienna waited until it was quiet
in the cafeteria after she called for everyone’s attention. She
threw the bracelet on my table and told me my attempts to get
Whitney back were both hilarious and futile. I ran out of the
cafeteria and all the way to the bathroom. That was the first time
my foul spirit urged me to kill. I had their deaths planned to
perfection in under a minute, like they’d awakened a demon that had
been asleep for fourteen years.
    And that demon was alive and well and
pounding against my chest to be free. I prayed for them. Even if
God couldn’t care about me, he would care enough about them to get
them away from my door before I snapped.
    “Alright, let’s go. Our show is about to
come on,” Sienna said. I guessed He was listening. They giggled and
shuffled away from my door.
    I could see why they thought I’d kill
myself. To say I worry about my death constantly, I didn’t have
much of a life. If I died right now, nothing would change about the
world. No one would cry. They’d only care if my body made the dorm
smell. But the thought of not existing burned worse than their
words. And it hurt to let them get away with it today, more than it
ever had. I hoped my self-control wasn’t waning.
    I changed from one pajama set to another
after my shower and crawled back in bed. I hadn’t moved much since
Sienna gave up on her prank. I nibbled on a sandwich for dinner as
I plotted my escape after graduation. College was out. All of the
brochures showcased dorms and classrooms, and I’d had my fill of
those. My plan was to find my way to Florida, where oranges grow. I
could sleep in a field of them. Live there, hide there, die there
in my own time.
    “I’ll be invisible in Florida,” I said,
pulling the covers over my head. I pretended my pillow was the
angel’s wing I sang about. My eyes fluttered. Then the fire alarm
blared.
    I shot up in bed, rattled, more worried that
I’d done something to set it off. A single thought about being cold
on the wrong day could’ve done it. I checked the room. No smoke. No
fire.
    I threw my coat over my pajamas, stuffed my
feet in my clogs, and ran out of the room.
    We waited in the courtyard for Sister
Phyllis to creep out of the building. Most of the nuns were old,
but she wasn’t. Her limp was from an injury from the dark days.
Something like me hurt her, but she survived.
    “Nothing to worry about girls,” she yelled
over the horns. “A little steam-” The alarm shut off. “A little
steam from someone’s shower,” she continued, softer. “Procedure
dictates a roll call, so don’t leave until you respond to your
name.”
    When Sister Phyllis called my name, I raised
my hand so I didn’t have to speak.
    I had two plausible exit options: wade
through the crowd or cross Sienna and her flock by going on the
outside of the group. The third option, go straight to my room from
where I stood, would have Lydia Shaw here in no time. I chose
option two. Crossing in front of five girls had to be better than
shuffling through fifty.
    They stood in front of one of the hairy
trees behind the crowd. Wet grass and mud slushed under my feet as
I approached them.
    “Boo!” Sienna yelled, well aware of how
easily I startled.
    My hand flew to my chest, and my foot caught
on a root, sending me barreling to the muddy ground. I waited for
the laughter, prayed for it, so I’d know something odd hadn’t
happened like one of the hairy branches falling on their heads.
Sienna cackled first, then the rest of the crowd. Thank God.
    I stood, covered in mud, my right knee
stinging, and gasped when I saw my leg. Blood seeped through my
pajama pants, right through the rip the raised root made. Not just
blood. Magical blood. Blood, that under fire, according to legend,
would cast a different color than the typical orange. Back when the
world was crawling with