Half-Blood High

III

                              Frank

One week ago.

Dear Frank Zhang,

My condolences on the loss of your grandmother. She was quite the fighter, in her time.

I am writing to you from the prestigious Jupiter Academy, where you will hopefully soon attend.

Seeing as you are currently without a legal guardian, we request that you move into the student housing on campus. You will be provided with a bed, mattress, wardrobe, and two school uniforms. You are allowed to bring any personal items that follow the school guidelines as listed in the rule book, which is included in this envelope.

I wish you the best of luck, Frank. You are an exemplary student, and a kind young man. We hope to see you soon!

-Student Guidance Counselor L. U. Pa

Frank read, then reread the letter.

Jupiter Academy. One of the best schools in California. It was extremely hard to get into, and he was lucky they had considered him.

At least, that was what his grandmother had said.

She had berated him endlessly on making sure his grades were high, presenting himself with good manners, and keeping good posture. She claimed all of this combined would help him get into Jupiter Academy.

He sighed as he looked around the family mansion one last time. Tomorrow, he would be taking his luggage, and would move into the on-campus housing for students. The house, grandmother's money, and any of her possessions would go to him when he turned eighteen. Which would be in two years. In the meantime, an old family friend would be watching over his family's stuff.

Frank walked down the hall, passing the framed photographs and paintings of long-deceased family members. He stopped in front of one particular picture, one he never passed without a glance.

A woman sat on a bench, cradling a baby in her arms. Her hair spilled over her shoulders like a black waterfall, her dark eyes warm with happiness. The baby was smiling at his mother, happy and carefree.

"Hey, Mom," he whispered into the dead silence. "I wish you could be here. I wish you could see me at the school. I wish-." His voice broke on the third wish.

"I wish I could tell you I love you."

He sighed. The picture, although peaceful, only served as a reminder of what he was missing in life.

Frank had lived with his grandmother since he was five. His mother had been a soldier, and had died in a trench after saving some of her cohorts. He could still remember the chill that had run down his spine when the official had brought the news. The way the world seemed to freeze a an angle, dizzying and disorienting. He'd lost his axis.

Grandmother had taken it stoically. Not one year was shed, she never cried, but instead she told him: "We must prepare, Fai."

And they had. He had been presented with the flag of honor at her funeral. It was still in the trunk in his room, among the items he would take to the Academy with him.

Frank took one last good look at the picture before heading up the stairs. There was still a lot of packing to do.

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"Name."

"Uh, Frank. Frank Zhang."

"Age.

"Sixteen."