Bad Life 불우한 삶

Chapter 1 The Boys on the Top Floor {Part 1}

The school was once a monastery. However, it was built in the 17th century and only functioned as a monastery for about a hundred years. 
 
In the late 18th century, its role as a monastery ended and it became a private school only attended by children from noble families or wealthy merchants could afford the high tuition fees.  
 
The school was located in a small rural village called Bluebell in the northern province of Forkland. Except for 3 or 4 months of the year, it was always cold. Everything within a 15km radius was filled with dense forests and with no houses nearby, the area was completely isolated.  
 
All students lived in dormitories. The faculty and staff also lived in the school's dormitories or in Gorun, which was an hour and a half away from Bluebell by car.
 
The school was a quiet and peaceful place. 

The highly qualified teachers skillfully handled the students, and because the school rules were lax, it was rare to see conflicts between faculty and students. The students also had similar family backgrounds and educational environments, so they were familiar and comfortable with each other. Because it was more or less common to see people move away or transfer into the school, outsiders were accepted with little resistance.
 
This place was probably the closest thing to the life described in Thoreau's 『Walden』. In fact, in the forest surrounding the school, there was a swamp that everyone called 'Kelly'. The older teachers called it a lake. Perhaps it was a real lake in the past, but now, it could only be called a swamp. 

That was the brief impression of my first month after transferring to this school.

It wasn't until I was fifteen that I found out that I was the illegitimate child of the actress Julia Goodman. Julia Goodman was a famous actress who had won 2 Oscars for Best Actress, and she was a classical beauty with luscious brown hair and chestnut eyes. She was now turning 33 years old and had gotten married a few years ago, having three-year-old twins. 
 
The fact that she had a 15-year-old child was a secret that even I, her child, did not know. Perhaps I might have never known. The only reason I found out was because she revealed herself after my father died in a car accident. 
 
Julia did not even attend my father's funeral. It was only a couple of months after I buried my father that Julia came to get me. 

Julia and I were remarkably alike. But unlike Julia, who was always managed and neatly groomed, I had just gone through puberty and shot up in height like a beanpole, looking unattractively thin and lanky, with doughy cheeks. So, when we first met, we thought the only similarities between us were our hair and eye color. 

But during the five years I spent in Julia's jaw-droppingly luxurious mansion, I gradually began to change. 
 
After living the affluent life for a few years, we eventually became so similar that anyone could recognize us as mother and child when we stood next to each other. 

It was then that Julia decided she could no longer live under the same roof as me. Once I was past the age of requiring parental oversight, Julia sent me off to this school. On paper, I was still an orphan with no parents. Even the name of my guardian was listed as Julia's secretary. Shortly after arriving at this school, I realized that it was filled with kids in similar circumstances as I. 
 
I guess you could say this place was more of an exile than a school. 

Just as my very existence was my mother's weakness, all the students at this school were a stain to their parents or families. They could be someone's illegitimate child, a troublemaker who committed crimes at a tender age, or the youngest child who was driven out due to inheritance disputes. There were students as young as 16 and amateur college students like me, who had just turned twenty.
 
We were all exiled to a backwater school to begin our boarding life under the excuse of preparing for Oxford or art school, more rarely, a grande école. Because of that, the school frequently accepted transfer students. And since just as many students were trying to escape from here, moving away or dropping out was common. 
 
In fact, it made sense. Who would want to destroy their precious child by exiling them to a nameless isolated backwater school? Unless that child was a useless prodigal son and a thorn in their side, there was no reason not to find another way, such as shipping them to London and hiring a private tutor or steamrolling their admission into university through donations.
 
The students at this school were useless prodigal sons and thorns in their parents' sides. 

I was no exception. 
 
* * *

It was April. 
 
But even for April, it was terribly cold. I arrived at Bluebell with all my luggage packed in a single suitcase. It was six o'clock in the evening. Since all I had on was my uniform, my teeth soon began to chatter. 
 
I sat on my suitcase in front of the old Bluebell pub and waited for about an hour until the Cadillac sent by the school finally arrived. The driver was kind. He gladly loaded my suitcase into the car and opened the rear door for me. 
 
Once I got into the warm car and sank into the soft and fluffy cream-colored seats, I was quickly overcome with drowsiness. My frozen and stiff body slowly melted.  I watched as the spiky-leaved trees flitted by through the window and at some point, I drifted off to sleep. 

The driver allowed me to sleep until we arrived at the school.
 
The school was grand. It was so vast that I felt I might get lost. The main school building, which was just the old monastery as is, was only two stories tall but incredibly wide with very high ceilings. The dormitory appeared to be somewhat hidden in the forest, a bit removed from the school. In addition to that, there were stables and other farm buildings, as well as well-maintained polo fields, cricket grounds, and tennis courts; although I wondered how they could play games in such a cold region. 
 
I left my suitcase at the door and walked into the school that used to be a monastery. Since classes were over for the day, the school was not just quiet but eerie. Because of the cold weather, even the air seemed frozen, making it very still. 

I walked slowly, not wanting to make a sound. But despite my efforts, my footsteps bounced off the empty stone walls quite loudly. The ceiling mural depicting Jesus with a halo and his disciples extended all the way to the end of the corridor. It was opulent and beautiful. I walked with my eyes glued to the ceiling, not even realizing my neck was sore.
 
It was still a little cold, so my shoulders were drawn in but as I walked down the hallway, my nerves eased, and I began to grow fond of the school. I particularly liked how quiet it was. Even the sense of isolated quietness gave me a sense of stability. 
 
Soon enough, I was at the end of the hallway and stood face to face with a large, thick wooden door. As I opened the door and walked in, warm light and voices spilled out. I sat quietly on a chair, massaging my cold hands while the staff searched for documents. 

After completing the transfer procedures and signing various consent forms, the staff member told me which dorm room I was assigned to.
 
I took the documents and key from the staff and began to turn around when the lady suddenly spoke up behind me. 
 
"Wear a scarf. Unlike California, it's practically winter in Bluebell till May."
 
I stopped and looked back at her. 

She was holding out a green scarf towards me. I took the scarf and glanced at the name tag on her chest. It said Anna. She was the first person at this school whose name I knew.
 
The driver took me to the dormitory. Although it was a walkable distance from the main building, it would have been difficult to carry the suitcase all the way there. 
 
The dormitory was also a stone building. 

As I walked past the garden decorated with statues and fountains, I entered a spacious lobby lit by electric lamps, where a staff member, who seemed to be the housemaster, was waiting for me. 

I was assigned to the top floor. 

As we climbed up to the 4th floor, the housemaster and I took turns carrying the suitcase.