Poison Onyx

。 6 。

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1997

It was that bad.

Nova had been at the Red Room for two years now. She was five, bordering on six and had already seen people die. Most nights the young girl cried herself to sleep, too scared to move in the mornings. She was trapped with all of these other girls and all she wanted was to go home. She missed her mum and dad. At night, she would wonder what happened to Logan; did he get killed? Was he taken somewhere else like her? Does he have a new family?

Ballet was horrible. Nova didn't like the feeling of the dresses. They made her uncomfortable with the itchy material. The shoes were worse though. Because she was forced to dance every day, her feet were horrible damaged already. Bruised and swollen. It was always a relief when she was allowed to take them off after the long hours of having them on.

The young girl was woke up to the alarm blaring from the speakers in the corner of the room. Her eyes snapped open, arm pulling on the handcuffs at her headboard as all of the other girls woke up as well. The soldier entered the room, taking off all of the girls handcuffs and lastly Nova's, the five year old sniffling loudly, wiping her nose on her wrist.

The soldier glanced down at the poor girl as she tucked her knees to her chest, resting her head between her kneecaps as all of the girls waited for their orders. Since they had started at the academy, the soldier had been ordered to help get rid of Nova's speech impediment by trying to train it out of her. So far, he'd achieved a slight progress, being able to make it through some short sentences without her stuttering at all. Maybe sometimes she's pause, her mouth preparing to make the words but nothing came out, but they were getting there.

Madam B entered the dorm, her eyes scanning over the girls who stared at their bedsheets in sadness and fear. Simply gesturing at the doorway, all of the girl knew that they had to get up. Turns out, the lower the group number you were in meant the better you were treated. Nova was in 1 which meant she got meals first with her group, they did ballet first, they did everything first and were taught more things. The higher the group number, she worse you were treated. At this point, the groups above 5 were basically being given up on.

The girls all left the room, heading towards the showers, towel and ballet uniform in ah d as they did so. The showers were all cubicles, long cubicles so you could hang things on the door pegs and change in the cubicles without getting wet from the spray of the shower.

Nova sighed softly as she hung her uniform on the peg as well as her towel before taking her pyjamas off that she was starting to finally grow into. Flicking on the shower, she took two large steps back out of the water, avoiding the harsh spray of freezing water. They never were warm, no matter how long you waited. You just had to shut up and deal with it.

Have you ever had a bunch of tiny needles thrown at your back? No? Well, that's what the shower felt like. Hundreds of tiny thumbtacks being launched full force at Nova's back, stabbing into her skin painfully. She'd flinch every time the water hit her back, bouncing off her skin and onto the tiles behind her. It was never warm, just felt like pure ice.

After their shower, the girls were made to move to the ballet room where they immediately started to stretch, sitting on the floor in the splits, leaning over each leg until their heads touched their knees. It was uncomfortable and Nova thought her body shouldn't be able to bend in such a way. Sometimes she worried that as she did it, her back would break as she felt the pull of the small of it, or she'd pull a muscle, feeling the strain on her thighs as she completed the stretches.

The soldier was lurking in the corner as he usually would, keeping an eye on the girls to make sure they didn't step out of line. His head tilted, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he saw Nova staring blankly at the floor, her head also tilted with furrowed eyebrows. Her legs were still in the splits but more relaxed than they should have been.

Lily next to her seemed to notice and saw the soldiers confused eyes. Not wanting her friend to get into trouble, she tapped Nova's foot lightly but the ebony haired girl didn't look up, seemingly lost in her own space, now beginning to tap something on her thigh, bobbing her head lightly to whatever she was thinking until a slight hum of a tune left her lips subconsciously.

Girls were starting to look over with panicked eyes, discreetly glancing up at the soldier who just seemed to be watching Nova's mind whir away in her little world. The humming was quiet but everyone could hear it distantly, the girl closer to her hearing it louder as Nova started to wiggle her feet side to side, still in the relaxed split position.

Lily finally hit Nova's foot hard enough for her to snap out of whatever trance she was in and she turned to her friend. The older girl nodded her head subtly towards the soldier, pretending to continue her stretches as she did so. Looking up, Nova's eyes found the soldiers.

His blue eyes board into her green ones, a strange sense of curiosity filling his while fear swarmed hers like sea foam. The bottom part of his face was still covered, hair falling across his face and arms crossed over his chest. He was intimidating. He was scary and none of the girls liked him all that much.

As a child, you would think there would be a monster under your bed, maybe as your mum or dad to check underneath it or in the wardrobe. It was probably after reading a scary story or after a sleepover with ghost stories. Maybe even the next door neighbours cat on the roof. Simple things. But the mister would always hide. In the shadows, you couldn't see him. You wouldn't know if there was anyone there so you would be reassured nobody was. And there never was. It was probably just a box of a piece of clothing.

This was a different type of monster. He made himself known. He lurked in corners, he was watching, waiting for them to fail, to fall over and break a fragile bone. His job was to wait. The suspense was worse than the punishment. The constant build up of wondering whether you were doing right or wrong. They always felt as through they were. They tried as hard as they possibly could. Forcing their bodies to be more flexible than they should be, eating less, drinking more, playing less. Slowly becoming more numb.

They don't know if they would get a punishment or not. Nothing seemed to please Madam B, and if it didn't please her, it didn't please the soldier. She controlled him. Made him be the monster that all the girls feared. After witnessing this monster in real life, they would happily climb into the wardrobe with The Boogie Man.

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