They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
And the school looks very ugly in my eyes. It’s a castle-like structure, the gardens are vast and green, everything is spacious and comfortable. But still- I hate it.
It’s a lonely place. I get down from the bus that is ferrying in the first batch of students and soon the grounds are bustling with activity. Other buses join ours and park themselves neatly and students begin to spill out in groups. Ms Sarah strides to the center of the ground where there is a make-shift stage. She grabs a microphone and calls for order.
Slowly, the noise and chatter dies down as the students focus their attention on her.
“Welcome and welcome back!”
There is a cheer. Seems like the people love this school.
“Please find your room numbers on the list pinned to the notice board in the entryway. Your luggage has been taken into your respective dormitories where you’ll have to sort everything out. Your timetables will be out in a while as we are processing subjects for the new students as I speak. Please maintain discipline on the premises and if you require anything, please contact me. Your families have entrusted me with your funds throughout your time here and I will be issuing your monthly stipend so spend wisely. Classes start on Monday so settle in right now okay? See you all soon!”
The silence is overtaken by huge roars and more chatter. I feel irritated by the loudness of it all so I push my way through inside to see my room number.
Kiara Jain Sharma: Eastside Dormitory, room number 10.
As I head to the right side of the courtyard, and climb up two flights of stairs of the Eastern Tower, my dormitory is spick and span and I seem to be the first one to arrive. The common room is a large circular area with cushions, couches and bean bags arranged around a rectangular teapoy. There is a fireplace mantle as well, although why it will be required in Singapore, God only knows. Across the room is a big gallery. The balcony overlooks the forest grounds inside the school compound.
There are ten rooms surrounding the common room. I hastily pick up my luggage from the heap of suitcases piled up in a corner and look for room number 10.
As I enter it, I see my name on the back of the door:
EASTSIDE DORMITORY (GIRLS), ROOM NUMBER 10-
1. Ema Saito
2. Kiara Jain Sharma
3. Olivia Smith
Three tester beds are arranged perpendicular to each other with a study at each side. I pick the bed near the window. On the other side of each bed is a cupboard. On the left side of the door is a walk-in-closet and on the right side is the bathroom. The room is spacious and neat, comfortable for three girls to live in for years as long as there were no problems.
I’m not eager to meet my roommates.
I don’t know what kind of rubbish I’ll have to deal with.
As I finish unpacking and giving space to all my possessions, the two girls walk in with huge luggage of their own. I notice one of them is that irritating excitable girl I met earlier in the afternoon.
“Hi!” She says, “I think we met today!”
I nod at her and continue to sort my clothes.
“I’m Ema!”
“I figured.”
Well, it wasn’t hard. Ema has pink strands of hair that clash uproariously with her dark brown hair, and she pretty much looks Asian. There wasn’t a good chance of her name being ‘Olivia Smith’.
Meanwhile, the actual Olivia Smith is a curly, short haired blonde. She notices me staring at her murderously so she takes her eyes off her phone for a moment and greets me. “Hey, I’m Liv, nice to meet you!”
Typical Americans. They’re always shortening their basic names to sound unique.
I grunt and take out my phone myself.
A loud squeal interrupts my inner peace and Ema shimmies up to me. “Kiara, follow me on Insta! Are you on Insta?”
I sigh in resignation.
I give my ID to her as she sends me a request and I accept it. It’s not like I post anything anyways.
But Ema makes me go through her account which seems to be very updated.
@emasaito_998
-this is ema saito official!!! I’m young but i’m crazy and i love youuus#saitobankcorp
Liv joins us, unfortunately at my bed and then I’m forced to exchange socials with her as well.
@livforme.smith
-DM me for collabs, IBIS 2016, for business enquiries contact through official SmithBakes website.
Looking at their socials, I feel like I’ve made very bad roommates although Liv seems much better now.
I pull the curtains from my bed down so I can avoid the other two and I pretend to sleep so they'd leave me alone.
The dinner bell rings but I don't respond. I lie still on the mattress like a corpse, hidden from the rest of the world. Truth be told, I like it this way.
YOU ARE READING
This Is Ours
General FictionWhen her dad sends Kiara to a prestigious boarding school for artists in Singapore, she is determined to hate it. Just like she hates everything. But slowly, bit by bit, she begins to fall in love with the theatre, something she swore to condemn for...
