The School for the Elite

Chapter 6: The Woman and the Letter

The clock finally struck 8:30, and everyone rose from their seats, clutching their papers in their hands, making last-minute edits to their work.

As everyone waits in line to hand in their tests to the proctor, one girl who I haven't seen before looks at me curiously as if trying to figure out where she knows me from. Her eyebrows suddenly raise, and she taps the shoulder of the girl in front of her and whispers something in her ear, shifting her gaze over to me every few words. The girl in front of her squints at me, as if in disbelief, then raises her eyebrows as well. Then she taps the shoulder of the boy in front of her and whispers again to him. I fidget with my pencil, watching this domino effect of information travel down the line, until everyone is flicking their eyes towards me. 

I cough, unsure what else to do, and look at my mechanical pencil, fidgeting with the lead. 

The girl at the back of the line, who started the telephone-like chain of whispers, leans towards me.

"You're from the tenth grade, right?" she whispers loudly, to draw attention to our conversation. It works, and a few people look in our direction.

I nod, giving her a small smile and shrug, "I walked into the wrong classroom and didn't know how to escape, so here I am." 

She and the rest of the people in line raise their eyebrows and exchange glances with one another, shocked and slightly skeptical.

I sit in my chair, still fidgeting with my pen, and before I know it everyone has left the classroom. The woman is at the front of the whiteboard, holding all the test papers and neatly arranging them in a green folder. 

Once she finishes placing the tests in, she breaks the silence with a quiet request.

"You, come to the desk please," she said, maintaining her focus on the green folder.

I nod my head and walk towards the desk in front of her, folding my hands neatly in front of me. After a few moments, the woman looks up and crosses her arms.

"All that noise during the test, what are you, in the tenth grade?" she said, clearly meaning it as a rhetorical question. I answer her all the same.

"Uh, yes, I am in the tenth grade. I wound up in this room by accident. I tried to leave earlier but--" She holds her palm out to me, just like that white-haired boy did to me in the cafe to silence me. And just like the time in the cafe, I abruptly stop speaking.

"Ok, ok, I get it, but that's not why I called you up here." she squints her eyes, as if suddenly curious by my presence, and holds her hand out in front of her, muttering, "Don't move. I need to test something."

Before I can even ask what that something is, she snaps her fingers. The noise was oddly sharp as if it were rebounding and springing from the walls of the room and multiplying in volume. Just as the noise starts becoming deafening, it stops.

"What was tha--" I start, then collapse on the floor, falling hard on my knees. My headache feels as if a catapulted boulder has hit me, my mind and skull splitting into millions of pieces under my skin. I struggle to breathe, my eyes watering, and look up at the woman, gasping and gripping my hair.

She looks down at me stone-faced, her complexion monotonous, when she unexpectedly smiles. It is not a smile of amusement, but assertion. Verification. It is as if she has been proven right somehow by my pain. 

"Your eyes... I was right. I knew it." She mumbles, her hand resting on her chin. She remains this way for what feels like a lifetime.

She chuckles and snaps her fingers again. The sound her snap emits is quieter this time and ends after a few moments. Within seconds of her movement, my headache disappears. 

I cough, tears streaming down my cheeks as I cry silently on the ground, gripping my skirt to stop my hands from shaking.

"What... what did you do to me? Why would you do something like... whatever that was?" I shout, pushing off the ground and standing steadily on my feet. The woman ignores me and begins searching for something in the pockets of her suit.

I stand in dismay, contemplating what to say next when an unexpected burst of anger escapes me.  

"What is happening? Why won't you answer any of my questions?" I roar, a raging fire taking over my sense. I lunge for the woman and grab her by the collar of her crisp suit, so ironed I have to grasp the cloth of her collar with a considerable amount of strength.

"I cannot say anything to you. Not yet, at least." She says calmly, her eyes unwavering. As I search them, I can't find even a shred of fear. She pulls out an envelope from the breast pocket of her suit jacket and hands it to me.

"Read this when you return home. Do not lose it, do not let anyone see it, and do not dispose of it. Only after you have read it, burn it. Do I make myself clear?" She says this calmly, her mouth devoid of any humor.

I hesitate, still trying to piece everything together. But with no information, I can't do anything but stare blankly at the woman.

"Do I make myself clear?" she repeats, slapping my hands off of her collar and fixing the now wrinkled cloth. "Well, do I?"

I put a neutral face on and nod.

"Good, because once you read that letter, the life you knew will be gone," she turns on her heels and heads towards the door. She stops abruptly before reaching the doorframe, her back turned to me.

In a condescending tone, she warns "If you do not read the letter, or comply with its commands, believe me, we will know." and with that, she exits the room.

My mind is racing. What just happened?

I quickly walk out of the room and look down the hall, calling out for her, anyone, to respond.

But the woman had disappeared.