Page 6

This campus is old, and it’s been around for at least a century. The trees around me make a soft rustling as the wind blows through them. I cross my arms over my chest as I try to ignore the feeling that I need to run.
The path winds around, eventually leading me to my destination: the Forthright Building. It’s a massive stone monstrosity. It looks gothic in architecture, and the grey stone has ivy growing on some parts. There are two massive towers that extend above the top of the building on each side. On top of each tower sit these beautiful, ornate iron details around the edges. This building looks almost medieval.
As I march up the steps, I suddenly feel like I have a set of eyes on me. I turn back around but find no one near me. The hairs on the back of my neck raise, and I bite my lip. I’m imagining things; I have to be. My imagination’s a little overactive at the moment, with being here. Turning back around, I head into the building, trying to shake off the stalker feeling.
My mouth immediately drops open the moment I step inside. It’s like I’ve been transported into a whole other universe.
The inside is nothing at all like the outside. It’s the exact opposite. Where the outside is rugged and old, the inside is clean and new. Modern and filled with high-end technology. The floors are a pristine white marble with flecks of black and gold. The furniture that lines the halls are sleek and clean. There are black leather couches with stainless steel legs lining the hallways, coupled with metal end tables. It’s cold, almost museum like. Glass cases sit between some of the benches, and pictures and awards sit preserved in them. It’s all unapproachable, too clean. It’s awful.
Looking around the museum of rich people stuff, I notice a glass partition wall with the word “Office” frosted over the massive pane. . Well, that would be where I’m supposed to go, instead of hiding out in my dorm like I want to.
I push through the glass door to find an older lady with her hair up in a bun sitting behind a desk. Her grey hair is neatly pulled back, and her face is devoid of any wrinkles. She looks good for an old bag.
“May I help you, young lady?” She looks at me, her eyes narrowing. I look to the side and see a name plate,J. Hodgens. Old dinosaur bones here has a name.
“Yes, Ms. Hodgens, the name’s Phoenix Hayes. I was told to come here when I was trying to check in at the gates of hell out there. You know, for the Underworld, your in-takers are quite cheery. They must love the hellfire. Or maybe it’s the sweet accommodations in the torture pits?” I give her a smile as I grip the straps of my backpack, adjusting them under her stare.
She clears her throat and looks down at her desk, not amused in the least at my ramblings. “Ah, yes, Ms. Hayes. Headmaster Lockhart would like to talk to you.”
“Okay, so we couldn’t just do this little meet and greet after I moved into my room? Because I gotta say, I’m a little worried. Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Dumb out there just don’t give me the confidence that they will get my stuff to my room.” I shrug, but she ignores me, looking down at the papers in front of her.
“Go back to his office. It’s the one that says Headmaster on it.” She waves me back.
I stand there for a moment longer before heading towards the office. I reach the door that has a plaque on it that does indeed say “Headmaster”. I tip my head back and let out a long sigh before knocking on the door.
“Enter,” a gruff voice behind the door says. I open the heavy wooden door into yet another room that is drastically different from the office. What the fuck?
It’s full of ornate wooden bookshelves that span across the walls on either side of me. A giant wooden desk sits in the middle of the room with windows out to the courtyard behind it. It stinks of money in this office and for some reason, I get a sinking feeling that this isn’t a good room.
“Ms. Hayes, please have a seat.” Headmaster Lockhart extends a hand out to two green leather high-back chairs in front of his desk. The furniture in here is the complete opposite of the hallway. It’s not modern, it’s not clean. It’s ornate and detailed, hand carved crown molding that has probably been there since the opening of the school.
I shrug my backpack off and drop it next to the chair, plopping down. I lean against the back of the chair and place my hands in my lap, waiting for him to say something.
He’s a bald man, probably in his late fifties. He has dark circles under his eyes and nose hairs coming out of his nose. Well, at least we know where the hair on his head went.
“Ms. Hayes, let me be the first to welcome you to Darkwood Academy.” He folds his hands together on top of his desk as he gives me a weak smile.
I point behind me with my thumb. “Well, actually, your welcome crew did that. So, you wouldn’t be the first.”
He stares at me silently for a moment, then clears his throat. “Ms. Hayes, are you aware of the gift you received by being accepted here on a scholarship? Darkwood can unlock so many opportunities for you. Don’t waste this chance.” He pauses for a moment once more, and I contemplate just turning around and walking out. Fuck this guy. What opportunity? The chance of a lifetime to lose both your parents only to end up in this purgatory? No thanks.
“I know you have been through some tough things in life already, with the loss of your parents and all. We are here to support you. You aunt and therapist both agreed that it would be best to maintain your usual appointments. We have set up an office next door to me. You will be using that for your therapy.” He stares at me, his eyes narrowing. “Let me offer you a piece of advice. Do your work, get the grades, and then move on. Just keep your head down.”
My body stills at this warning. I had already planned on being invisible, but his words cause me a bit of discomfort. What the hell goes on here that I need to heed his advice?
“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind as I run for class president.”
He sighs and hands me the packet that was sitting on his desk. “Here. You are on the top floor. Room 821. Your passcode is in there, along with your schedule for the semester. Please, Ms. Hayes. Stay quiet, stay invisible,” he pleads.
I jump up off the chair and take the packet, grabbing my bag and then hightailing it out of the creep’s office.
Running out of the building, I head back along the paths that lead to the dormitories. The minute the air hits me, I breathe a little easier. I’m no longer feeling like I’m suffocating.
That’s all I want to be, is free.
Free from my past, free from the death that hangs over me, free from the pain in my heart.
As I make my way across campus, I take in the beautiful landscaping, the lush trees and the chirping of the birds around me. It’s calming. The only thing that’s calming about this place.