high and mighty

The sound of creaking floorboards pulls me, screaming, out of a dark sleep, where the rustling trees and soft snores drifting from the next dorm associated themselves in my nightmare. Slowly I sit up, rubbing my tired eyes and glaring groggily around the dimly lit room. Strands of deep brown hair hang in my face and I push them away impatiently, swearing to myself that the next time I see a pair of scissors I will use them to chop off my waist-length hair.

 

Peering around I see Cray in front of the door, on her back, her hands curled into fists, one bronze, tightly muscled arm hanging over the top bunk. Eloise jolts occasionally in the bed under her, shaking her head and muttering ‘no’ over and over again. Across from me Gabbie and Charlotte lie surrounded in lolly wrappers from one of their late-night feasts from the kitchen, Amberley snoring her head off above them. In the bed next to mine Carly and Simone are snuggled into each other’s arms, both of them peaceful. As usual, they look years younger and far more innocent in sleep than when they’re up and about. They’re not the only twins in this hole, but they keep to themselves the majority of the time and they share the same bed. Apparently when they first arrived they had nightmares and when Matron came in the next morning she screamed at them for sharing beds. The next night it happened again and eventually, no matter how many times Matron told them off, she realised Carly and Simone were each other’s only means of safety.

 

There’s a spare bunk for Charlotte, and finally there’s me and Bella in the darkest bunk. Bella’s the newest here, so she was dumped with me. I came before her and everyone was glad to have someone else thrown in what is known as the ‘creepy crib corner’. In every room there’s one bunk that very little light reaches, and most of the kids are afraid of the dark so it’s supposed to be a burden to get this particular bed. For me, though, it’s perfect. I hate how vulnerable I can’t help feeling in the light, because I can’t hide from anything—or anyone—as easily. In the dark I can look at what’s going on around me and not be seen, I can hide from danger, I can rest for at least a little while without having to constantly fear being spotted. Unfortunately, Bella is very much afraid of the dark and woke up on her first morning in one of the boys dorms because Matron heard her screaming all night. She’s nearly over it now but she often peeks down at me from above to check there’s someone near her.

 

I hear a dull screeching sound and snap to attention. My grey pyjama tee-shirt falls to my waist as I scurry to my feet and pull on my dark-green jacket. I tread over to the door and climb up Cray’s ladder to her bunk where I perch on the edge of her bed and watch the light shining through the doorway.

 

The footsteps have stopped. Light seeps under the doorway, but a darker shadow blocks out the middle and immediately I think the worst; an intruder. Two of them snuck in on my first week in the middle of the night way after everyone had gone to sleep, and they snatched some of the teacher’s watches and two of the girls, Anne and Sarah, and raped them on the kitchen benches. When Matilda, the cook, went in the next morning to begin making breakfast she found them naked with bite marks around their necks and groin and bruises already forming on their chests.

 

I’m not as scared as most people would be with the possibility of facing tough, raping robbers, but I’m still half asleep and I’m tired. The door-knob begins turning and I freeze on the edge of the bed and, as quietly as possible, shrink back into the shadows as the door swings open. A foots slams into the wooden floor and a feminine-looking hand grips the side of the door as the person begins to come into the room—then freezes. I hold my breath and hope against hope whoever it is doesn’t see me. White breath puffs out in front of the girl—I have decided it is a girl from her hands and the dirty slipper on her foot—and she takes another step forwards. Finally a tall, slim figure steps into the room. Her dark-blonde hair is tied back and she’s wearing the black training clothes most students wear very rarely, but I’m hardly ever seen without. Her face is still disguised by shadow but I could recognise her outline and the way she walks anywhere. It’s Jordie. As she walks over to my bunk I creep up behind her and, suddenly, I spring out and I’m standing in front of her. She squeals but I’ve already expected it and my hand covers her mouth before any more than a muffled exclamation of surprise escapes on her breath. Bella stirs slightly but my dorm remains quiet.