Sonnet of love

𝟏.

We had a stupid plan.

Well most precisely my romantic literature motivated father did.

He recently got offered a job as an English teacher at the well known private school, Welton. He also got offered a free place for his son to attend the private school. The important point is- that he doesn't have a son...

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"Ok.. Are your sure you understand that if you go through with this Kiera, you have to be extremely careful? Remember your Matthew." Father explained to me, adjusting my freshly cut blonde hair. I waved his hand away and looked at him. "I'll be fine." I smiled and held his hand on my cheek. He was a brilliant father, a brilliant English teacher. I was so proud of him for getting such a well paid, honourable job. After mother died he wouldn't leave the pages of books and poetry, to engrossed in the art that he forgot to look after himself. I eventually managed to break his depressive cycle and he started on his journey to mend himself and others around him. Mainly just others if you ask me. "I love you, sweetie." He hugged me tightly and ushered me inside the stone chapel of Welton Academy. I nervously turned back to look at him once more, until i got caught in a flow of young boys being pushed into their seats by their parents. 

I held my breath as I got caught up in a large flow of more than three hundred students all wearing academy blazers. Once I managed to escape, I slowly sat down on one of the many rows of chairs. I sat staring forwards at a stone wall in front of me, scared that someone may catch me. As another couple with their son sat next too me, the sound of bag pipes began. Peering round, I watched as a short, elderly man dressed in flowing robes lit a candle and led a procession of students carrying banners, robed teachers and alumnae down the long slate hallway of the chapel. As the teachers walked by, I caught Father's eye and he smiled calmly as followed the procession. The four boys who carried the banners marched to the dais, followed by the elderly man who proudly carried the lighted candle. 'How overly fancy... 'I thought as a husky man in his early sixties, stood at the podium watching expectantly as the procession ended.

"Ladies and gentleman... boys..." He said dramatically, pointing towards the man with the candle. "The light of knowledge." The audience applauded politely as the older man stepped slowly forward with the candle. 'More like the light of nonsense' I told myself rolling my eyes. The bagpiper marched in place at the corner of the dais, and the four banner carriers, lowered their flags that read 'Tradition' 'Honour' and 'Discipline' and 'Excellence' then quietly took seats with the audience. The gentleman with the candle walked to the front of the audience where the youngest students sat holding unlit candles. Slowly he bent forward, lighting the candle of the first student on the aisle. "The light of knowledge shall be passed from old to young." Headmaster Nolan explained to the silent audience, as each boy lit the candle of the student sitting next to him. "Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished alumni, and students... this year, 1959, marks the hundredth year that Welton Academy has been in existence. One hundred years ago, in 1859, forty one boys sat in this room and were asked the same question that now greets you at the start of each semester." Nolan paused dramatically, his gaze sweeping the room of intense, frightened young faces. He paused briefly at where I sat, on the far right and nodded discreetly. My heart sunk as he did so, worried at our contact.

"Gentlemen." He carried on rambling, "What are the four pillars?". I froze in my seat, hoping that if I stayed reasonably still, he wouldn't pick on me. To my dismay, there was a large shuffle of leather shoes and all students rose to attention. I flung myself up with the standing boys, harshly slamming back my wooden chair as I did so. I turned round to apologise to the student behind me, who looked just as nervous as I was. His face was drawn and unhappy, his eyes dark with anger. "Sorry." I whispered, moving my chair from hitting his knees again. He smiled weakly at me as the students around us shouted in unison "Tradition! Honour! Discipline! Excellence!"