Chapter 1
Dear Harper,
We are proud to announce that you have been selected for a special training course in Lancaster, England. Of course, all expenses will be paid for by us and we truly hope you have a great time in one of the best academies in the world. Your plane will leave at 8am and you will be expected in the airport at 6am sharp on the 20th of March.
Although you will be staying for a year, we ask you to only pack the necessities, as the school will supply you with a uniform, cutlery, plates, etc. Your daily routine and class schedule is contained in this envelope and we wish you the best of luck during your year here. We truly hope to see you next year as well.
We will have a student set up to show you around, and she will also be your roommate. We do not tolerate bullying, talking back to teachers, cheating, lying, or any other antisocial behaviour at such a prestigious school. Just remember how lucky you are to be accepted, and watch out for your fellow Tribeccians!
Yours truly,
Emilia Drew,
Tribecca School for Girls.
As I read, I could feel the scowl crossing my features. It was typical, really, for me to get into such an elite school without even having to test for it. It showed how much of an “important governmental figure” my father was. Looking on the bright side, though, I remembered that this meant that I would finally be out of this hell hole we call home. Throwing the letter on my bed, I mustered the energy to get up and go to find my mother. Hearing her in the kitchen, I remembered the brief acting faze that I had gone through when I was 14. I took a deep breath and remembered the teacher's words: Always imagine yourself as the person you're acting to be.
I plastered a grin on my face and strolled out to where my mum was eating her breakfast. “I got in!” I yelled, trying to sound as happy as a normal girl would be for this opportunity. She looked up and hugged me, saying, “I knew you would.” I sat down, imagining what the school would be like. Or what it would be like to stay away from home for a year. I decided I wouldn't mind it. Although I hated English weather, it had to be better than America. But my problem was this: I hated making new friends, and having to share a room with somebody that I just met would be difficult. I heard my friend, Amy, honk the horn of my car outside, meaning she wanted a lift to school. I sighed and prepared for the waterworks as my mum ushered me out the door.
My mother, Elise Thomas, was a tall woman, with flowing black hair and shockingly blue eyes. She was thin, but also nicely curvy. I, unfortunately, got a mixture of my parents’ looks. I was average height, average build, and had average looks. My hair, although long and dark like my mother’s, did not fall in her glossy ringlets. It was always slightly knotty, and very bipolar. One day, it would be wavy, the next, corkscrew curls. My eyes were an odd blue colour with hazel-gold flecks in them, and my skin was pale.Since my father was so rich, my mother and I didn't have to work, but I think she didn't want to be thought of as a stereotypical rich housewife, so she has a job cooking at the belle vaisselle, a restaurant down the road. I just didn't like being bored, so I waited tables there. In many ways, I was an average 16 year old from Minnesota. Or so I thought.
That day, I was told to go to school as I would on any other day and say goodbye to my friends. As I suspected, there were a lot of tears, none of which were mine. The day passed slowly, and I was, as usual, bored out of my mind. the only interesting thing that day happened after school. As I walked out of the school and towards my mum's old car, saying my final goodbyes, I noticed something odd.
There, sitting on the windscreen of my car, was an envelope, stamped with the initials JT. My father's initials; James Thomas. I reached for it, and shivered, despite the warmth of the day. There was something about this envelope that I didn't like, but I couldn't pinpoint it. Shrugging that eerie feeling off, I reached into the envelope and felt something metal. I pulled it out, realising it was a necklace. That explained it. My father was probably out working, and got somebody to drop this off as a way of saying goodbye and sorry I couldn't see you off myself; I'm too busy.
I rolled my eyes; it was typical, really, for this to happen. I would be gone for a year and my father thought expensive jewellery would make up for it. Though it was selfish of him, I put on the necklace, the orange gemstone seeming to glow in the sunlight. I sighed. At least he was nice enough to get me something. I reached in the envelope again to make sure I hadn't missed anything and found a small slip of paper in it, with rushed, sloppy writing on it.
I frowned. It was hardly the heartfelt letter that I was hoping for, and it looked like it barely took up one line on the page. But maybe he thought he would finally tell me what he did for a living, instead of leaving me in the dark all my life, and he thought that he didn't have to make it neat. But I had to squint to even figure out what the letters were.
Looking closely, I could make out the words: The Relentors enter at their own risk. I shook my head, sure I had read it wrong and it was actually something that made sense to me. With a final wave to my friends, I got into my car and looked at the note in my hand. When I lent forward to read it, however, both the piece of paper and the envelope burst into flames and disintegrated in my palm, left nothing but a pile of ash.
A/N:
Hey guys! Since the comments on the prologue said it was waaaaay too short, I decided to make this one a little longer, and updated sooner than I usually would to make up for the shortness. Well I hope I made it long enough, anyway. And I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading! :D
~Ella~
