The Destined

Chapter Two: Melissa

    Melissa    

I sit alone at the front row of the coach bus, holding some random book I pulled from my shelf in my lap and listening to the tenth replay of my entire music playlist as I stare at the dull life outside the window, exactly like I do every year when I have to go to Brookfield. I brought two bags; one is holding my books and my school supplies, and the other extra clothes like sweatshirts and underwear, along with the standard uniform we have to wear.

My mother is this big time, popular artist back in New York City. My father works for this large medicine-producing company. We rent out a large apartment near Central Park, close to the subway station so we can get around quickly, and we rarely even stay home. My mother would be out at galleries all day, my father would be at a business trip for months at a time, and I would either be at my friend's house or out at the pier. That's probably one of the main reasons why I have to go to this school. There's nothing ever to do at home.

The bus suddenly turns into a hilly road. The road is bumpier and makes every passenger jump every time we drive over something. There doesn't seem to be any nearby towns or cities around here, just the dry grass and the rising sun in the horizon. As we drive further and further, we go deeper into an evergreen forest, a remarkable display of large trees that are probably as tall as the redwoods. Or at least they seem to be.

I remember my first grade year, when I hated the long hour ride towards the school for the first time, and I got so nervous about the thought that we were getting kidnapped into the forest that I started crying on the bus. I still don't like the school, with the strict dress code and all the work we have to do.

After passing the dried up, lame excuse of a lake and the dull, lifeless forest, we reach a clearing where the large school stands. Beyond it is the edge of a cliff, with a long drop down, which is weakly fenced off in some areas. Three deaths caused by kids falling off weren't enough for them to get it fixed, but I guess the new headmaster this year will have some new plans in mind. They have, however, added new rules to reinforce the "safety" of the school.

We have to wait for a long time before the buses in front of us unload kids from other cities. These buses are old, and they don't have storage to hold the people's bags, so it's pretty funny to watch people struggle bringing loads of stuff they probably won't even have time for.

Finally, though, it is our turn to get off. I stumble outside and have to squint as I adjust to the bright sunlight. The air up here is different, fresher I guess. The dusty ground and the wall of trees around the road have a sort of protective feeling. It feels almost like home.

☾☾☾

"Melissa Pedrova," I mumble my name to the frantic Mrs. Edwards. The minute she sees me, she gives me a look of exasperation, but then, as if it's going to take her a millions of years, she rummages through the large pile of papers in her hand. She sighs and hands me a note card-sized piece of paper with my dorm number and schedule written in ink on it. Except, it's not my name that's scribbled hastily on top. Before I can protest, however, Mrs. Edwards finds a way to disappear out of sight. I look around frantically for her, and find her talking to a clamoring group of girls.

"Mrs. Edwards!" I yell out, raising the schedule in the air as I try to move past the crowd of people.

"Attention, students." Oh no, I think, it's the headmaster. He is standing at the top of the stairs, above the crowds of girls, just by the entrance of the school. "Schedule in hand or not, you must find your way to your dorms immediately. You will have to skip breakfast and move on to your classes. The staff here will continue passing out schedules if every thing goes smoothly."

Getting my schedule will be difficult now. Everyone will want to get her schedule, especially since the morning bell for breakfast rang a while ago. Last year, the same thing happened. I was left without a schedule for a full day with begging the people who work here to find it for me. I was sick of poking my head in every room to ask if it was my class. I'm determined that it won't be happening again this year. I push my way through the people around me until I reach the nurse again.

"Excuse me?" I ask, tapping her on the back. When she doesn't answer, I try being louder. "Excuse me?"

"What do you want?" Mrs. Edwards turns around, her teeth gritted. "Can't you see I am busy right now?"

"It's not my schedule." I hold up the piece of paper, getting a little scared. "I need my schedule." Mrs. Edwards takes a deep breath, and then calmly looks through the pile again, mumbling my name as she goes along.

"Here, Melissa." Her voice is like ice.

I grab my schedule out of her hand, and begin running up the stairs towards the eighth grade dorm hall. I find our room just at the beginning of the stairs. It's an uglier color than the rest of the doors and the doorknob is red and rusty. The room is unlocked, so there's no need for me to get a key yet, but I'll have to get one later.

As soon as I step in the room, I just-

Wow.

This is nothing like the last seven school years stuck in this school.

The warm color of the walls wrap around the cozy little room, which looks bigger by the mirrors hung on each side. The beds look brand new, with the wood shinier. I take in a few more steps, and there's the faint smell of paint and earth at the same time. The opened window at the back of the room has its pane painted blue. The auburn color of the rugs makes them appear even softer than they already are, and they blend in with the soft, cushiony bedding of the beds. I drop my bags on the floor and climb up on my bed, hugging the massive pillow as my legs dig into the blanket. For the first time today, a smile creeps on my face.

Then I notice something shiny out of the corner of my eye. I blink twice just to make sure it is there and worth leaving the bed to go check it out. I climb back down from the top of the bunk bed and walk over to another girl's bag. It's nearly empty and placed neatly by her bed, with the small corner of a silver picture frame peeking out. I pull it out and look at the photo. The girl in the image has dark skin and hair, with brand name clothes and a mansion in the background. It's no doubt that's Avani, one of the popular, snobby girls here. I frown and throw the picture back in her bag.

☾☾☾  

I sit in Ms. Darling's classroom, biting my lip. This class, aparently, is actually rumored to be the cave of the she-devil, also known as the erratic, arrogant science teacher who was supposed to be fired ages ago.

I catch a glimpse of Avani sitting at a large table with her friends. They are all laughing, making jokes about stupid stuff. They all look fake, like dolls, with pounds of makeup caked on their faces. It pains me just to hear them talk, because their speech is exaggerated, making sure to say "like" and "totally" at least a hundred times in each sentence. The bell rings, but nobody sits down or stops talking. I hear the click-clacking off high heels in the hallway, stomping against the wooden floors.

"Shut up!" The door slams as Ms. Darling barges in. "You should all be ashamed of yourselves! It's the first day of school, for goodness sakes!" This is almost like a cartoon. Ms. Darling looks like Ms. Gorf, with her green diamond glasses and insane makeup. She goes over to her desk and picks up a clipboard. Then she faces the class again, sticking out her chin as she begins to talk.

"The rules of this classroom are no laughing, talking, making annoying sounds, whispering, or interrupting me! You are going to talk only when I ask you to. Now, we will start a lesson today on –"

Before Ms. Darling can finish, the class begins to groan. Ok, so maybe the myths are actually true. This woman seems crazy, insane even.

"Silence!" the teacher snaps, scribbling something on her clipboard. "Now, writing utensils are at the front of the room, help yourselves as I pass out your pre-tests of chapter one in your textbooks." She looks out to the class and clenches her jaw, her eyes never settling on anybody.