Oasis Path©(English Version)BOOK 1 OASIS SAGA

Part 1.

Lawrence, December 2nd.

Under a gentle drizzle marking the onset of the twelfth month, my new life in Lawrence unfolded. Since yesterday, the weather persisted, enveloping the town that now housed my school. Just five days ago, Mrs. Johnson, my mother, surprised me with the news that my application to study at the prestigious Lawrence School of Arts had been accepted.

I confess I harbored no desire to immerse myself in this place, but to appease my parents, I complied with their wishes and, unfortunately, gained admission based on my previous grades in regular education. Seated in the cozy foyer of my modest home, I delved into reading a book whose theme, based on 'Romeo and Juliet,' challenged my understanding. My mother burst into my effort effusively.

"Amelie, Amelie, you got accepted to Lawrence School of Arts! Oh, my daughter! Isn't that wonderful?"

For a moment, I found myself wrapped in a wordless silence. Recovering from the shock, I asked my mother:

"Are you happy, mother?"

"How could I not be, Amelie?" she affectionately responded. "Aren't you?"

I had no choice but to feign joy and start preparations for my journey to Lawrence. The acceptance letter specified that I should report to the school on December 2nd to commence the course.

I boarded the train bound for Lawrence, where I met several schoolmates. The journey, lasting an hour and a half, was interrupted by rain that began right in the middle of the trip. It was a fine rain, seemingly cold, lightly soaking the plants and forcing smaller animals to seek shelter.

The landscape reflected melancholy, as melancholic as my eyes filled with tears. I didn't want to be away from home, from my mother, from my things. However, at that moment, options were limited.

As the train finally came to a stop, we all began to disembark. Some boys were assisting girls with their bulky suitcases, although mine weren't as heavy; no one offered to help me. I guess I'm not the kind of girl a boy would offer assistance to, so I continued my path alone.

In front of the imposing facade of the school, an elegantly dressed gentleman indicated the route to follow. Upon hearing his voice, I decided to lift my gaze that I had kept low since leaving the train.

It was then that I plunged into an overwhelming surprise: the School Center stood majestic, imposing itself like a true castle of enchanted tales. Its towers rose towards the cloudy sky, adorned with architectural details that evoked past eras. The sturdy stone walls gave the structure an air of an impenetrable fortress.

As I walked, I could appreciate the fine details of the gothic windows and the vines climbing the walls, giving the building an aura of mystery and charm. The courtyard, with its cobblestone path, stretched like a moat that separated the outside world from the interior of the academic castle.

The solid wooden doors, adorned with intricate carvings, creaked solemnly as they welcomed the new students. The foyer, illuminated by antique lamps, overflowed with an air of solemnity and anticipation. Walking through the hallways, the paintings on the walls seemed to tell silent stories of ancient students who had also crossed those same doors in search of knowledge and adventures.

The echo of footsteps resonated in the stone corridors, and the classrooms, with their high ceilings and neatly aligned benches, emanated a sense of classical academia. In every corner, the scent of books and ink contributed to creating an atmosphere that invited immersion in learning and exploration.

We advanced a little when a lady with white hair and a black dress, seemingly angry, directed us to enter a vast room. Upon entering, I noticed it was a theater, with a gloomy air that matched the lady who instructed us to enter.

We sat with our suitcases and patiently waited for someone to come and explain how everything would be. Suddenly, a powerful voice captured everyone's attention, forcing us to turn our gaze to the stage.

"Welcome, everyone! I am Thomas Smith, the principal of this school. I hope you had an excellent journey. Now, I will explain how our school works in general. As you must already know, here you can choose from various specialties. To graduate, you must complete the three courses and maintain strict discipline in adhering to all the center's rules. Mrs. Lyndon here will explain the school regulations in more detail, and you will also be given a written copy."

Lyndon, the same somber-looking lady who guided us to the theater, captured everyone's attention by starting to read a voluminous book she called the "Extended Version of the School Regulations." She assured us that she would only address the most urgent topics to maintain discipline in the place. Each of us would receive a copy of the regulations, and it was of utmost necessity that we read it as soon as possible.

The use of the provided uniform was mandatory in the classroom, while outside, we could wear clothes brought from home. The west wing dormitories were assigned for boys, and the east wing exclusively for girls. Under no circumstances would visiting a dormitory from the opposite wing be allowed, and interactions between boys and girls would be constantly monitored, as romantic relationships were strictly forbidden, with expulsion as the consequence if any arose.

Skipping a class without justification could suspend a student’s right to take partial exams, forcing them to face final exams without a grade to support their performance. The rules were clear, and the school’s atmosphere was infused with a mixture of anticipation and fear among new students.

Many more rules were read by Mrs. Lyndon than my mind was ready to process. As she recited various selected segments, I felt I had made a grave mistake entering the school, but it was already too late to regret.

Finally, the torturous welcome to the center came to an end, and various school representatives, led by Mr. Smith, led us through the different corridors that would take us to the dormitories.

I climbed the imposing stairs, took another dimly lit hallway with doors on both sides. Following the given instructions, I searched for the door with my name. I walked until near the middle of the hallway and found what would be my room. To my surprise, in addition to mine, another name was written: Lisa White.

I opened the door and, with a pull, released the suitcases. At that moment, a frightened voice asked, “Who’s there?”

I felt the need to respond immediately, taking off the small hat I was wearing.

“Hello, sorry to startle you. My name is Amelie Johnson, and I believe this is my room.”

“Amelie?” asked a slender girl with long, light hair. “Are you really Amelie?”

“Yes, it’s me,” I replied. “And you must be Lisa White, right?”

“Yes, yes... Oh, how rude of me!” Lisa exclaimed apologetically. “Nice to meet you, Amelie. I’m glad you’re here, and I hope we can be friends.”

Although I wasn’t too keen on the idea of meeting someone and expecting to become friends out of nowhere, I didn’t want to sound impolite. With a small smile, I replied, “I hope so too.”

Lisa was already perfectly settled. She had arrived in the first group of admitted students and, as she explained, had been at the school for almost three hours. In a friendly and enthusiastic manner, she helped me arrange my belongings. When we finished, we decided to find something to eat, as several hours had passed since our last meal.

Lisa offered me a delicious sweet her mother had prepared before leaving, and I shared some apples with her. While enjoying our small snack, she shared many details about her life. It turns out she’s already engaged to a guy several years older than her, a certain Dean Leary. They planned to get married once she graduated.

I didn’t have much to share. My life wasn’t that interesting. It had been a long and eventful day. I felt exhausted. I missed my home, my mother... especially her. The distance became evident in every thought, and nostalgia mingled with the uncertainty of this new chapter in my life.