My eyes shot open, and the instant my eyelids lifted up, a bright white light blinded me, until the darkness no longer engulfed my sight. I was strapped to a metal table, and was still wearing the tattered ball gown. I felt dirt encasing my legs, and the fabric sticking to my skin because of the sweat. When I tried to move my head, I felt my skin stretch and the dry, crusted blood crackle. My first instinct was to move my arm and brush the excess off my shoulder, but when I tried to lift it I noticed it was bonded to the cold, table. The only thing that wasn't strapped down was my neck. I heard a door in the distance open, and footsteps emerge from the corridor. They were inching closer to me in small, cautious steps, like I was animal about to lash out. A strange man, with familiar features looked over me. I saw that he had streaks of gray hair; they were most likely from stress, because though his physical appearance was beaten down from age, his eyes were young and filled with laughter. I felt that I knew him, even though I had never seen him before. He reached a fragile and shaky hand up to the light, as if to move it, but once his skin touched the luminous bulb, everything went pitch black. I heard his strong voice scream,
"Theo!"
. . .
My eyes opened, as if I was seeing for the first time. I heard voices yelling,
"Ella! Ella!" I didn't know who they were yelling for, until I realized that I was lying flat on the floor, and a girl was kneeled beside me. Then, I knew she was yelling at me. Her eyes were filled with terror; it was Brittany. I looked up from her pretty face, and I saw him again. I heard myself scream. Both girls and boys were surrounding me. Madame Celia pushed her way through the crowd, ordering every group of students she saw to do a different task.
"Bethany, stay here." Brittany blushed, not many people knew her real name, because every month she picked a new one, and the only remainder of her original name was her first initial. She pointed to the boy behind her, I was breathing heavily, just from looking at him. He stared at me, as if he was bored. It was him, and he was standing here in front of me, like I was a crying baby. "You, help me carry her." I pushed myself away from him, trying to get as far away as possible. But he just took a step forward, expressionless. He picked me up off the ground, without any effort, as soon as I was off the ground, I flung my arms around his neck. It wasn't that I was afraid of heights, it was not having my feet on solid ground that scared me. I had always had this problem, ever since I was little, it was the reason I refused to go on an airplane, or ride any rides at amusement parks.
He shook me, trying to shake me loose, but I just held on tighter.
"Loosen up, will yah?" He grunted.
"Put me down." My voice came out squeakier than I intended.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because," He was growing impatient, "That is not what I was told to do."
"Do you always follow the rules?" I asked, not really paying attention to him, I found myself staring at the floor, wishing my feet were on the solid ground. I noticed him looking at me out of the corner of my eye, and I turned my head towards him. His sky blue eyes cut right through me. Whatever I said had made him angry. No, he wasn't angry, he was livid.
"Yes, I do." He growled. I shrunk in his grasp, scared of what he might do next. Madame Celia was facing away from us, yelling at a group of girls for talking too loud.
"Take her to her room, I'll be there after the tour. Since you already know your way around here, I assume you'll be fine staying with her and missing the tour." She seemed to be absolutely oblivious to the fact that he was obviously the source of my meltdown. She turned towards the rest of the students.
He walked, slowly, but gracefully towards the door. I saw Brittany staring at me wide eyed, she gave me a thumbs up, as if I did this intentionally. We were standing in front of the door, I tried to stick my hand out to open it, but he shifted my weight in his left arm; he acted like I was a pillow, and opened the door. I cast a nervous glance towards Brittany one last time before we were out the door. He walked in silence for what seemed like forever.
"What's." Stutter, "Your name?" He stayed silent, and just when I thought he was going to ignore my question, he spoke, whispering,
"Theo." I almost fell out of his arms. I screamed, but we were too far from the main building for me to be heard.
"Put me down!" I screamed, my throat started to burn. "Now!" I flew myself out of his arms and landed face flat on the ground. I felt the gravel press against my face, and the cement scrape my jawbone. He stood there for a moment out of shock, when he took a step forward, I twisted myself and stuck my leg out. I swung it toward the left and tripped him. He fell hard, though, he quickly brought himself up, to where he was resting on his elbows. I did the same. We stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Surprisingly, he spoke first,
"Do you do this to every person you meet?" His voice was calm and quiet, despite the sudden impact from when he fell. There was a hint of sarcasm hanging in his words.
"Only to those who try to kill me." He stood up. I knew that I no longer had a chance to get away, so I let him help me up. He picked me up in one swift motion, and continued to walk. I felt myself stiffen; trying to make myself as light as possible.
"I can walk by myself." He ignored my comment. "At least let me walk by myself." He said nothing, and after a moment I gave up. I also gave up trying to make myself light, I relaxed, but he didn't seem to notice.
As we entered building A, he walked up the grand staircase with no effort at all, his breathing wasn't forced, but came easily, as if he hadn't been carrying anything. He reached the top, and turned right. He walked down the hallway and opened the door to my room and set me on the couch. The door slowly closed by itself.
"Why Ariella?" I sucked in my breath when he said my name.
"How do you know my name?" He laughed, as if it was obvious.
"You introduced yourself, remember." For a moment I believed him.
"No. I introduced myself as Ella, not Ariella." He stood there, dumbfounded, but only for a second. Then, he smiled a beautiful smile, and his eyes were filled with a sort of emotion that I didn't recognize. In that moment he was beautiful, and perfect, but the spell broke when he said the words,
"You're not as dumb as they said you were." I scrambled to my feet, suddenly furious. I swung my fist in the air and it landed on his jaw. He didn't move, but instead grabbed both of my arms and pushed me back onto the couch.
"Well, there is no need for that." I felt like his eyes were staring right through me, lost in space and staring through a ghost.
"A little pre-occupied, are you?" His eyes appeared to materialize back into the present.
"Deservedly so." I grunted, and mumbled a very sarcastic comment under my breath.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll keep your mouth shut." He folded his arms.
"How, may I ask, am I supposed to know what's good for me, if I don't even know what you would consider bad?"
"A little sarcastic, are we?"
"Yes," I began to answer, "that's the exact impression I had of you."
"Nice to know that it's going to be very easy for you to get yourself killed."
"Then why don't you do it? Just to make sure I don't suffer more than I have to." For some unknown reason, I was no longer afraid. The longer he stood over me, the more comfortable I became. "You know, you don't seem like a killer though, to me you seem more like a protector."
"I'm neither."
"Then what," I paused, "Could you possibly be?" My voice was expectant, yet my eyes were innocent. It was a while before he answered, as if waiting for the perfect moment. When he spoke, his voice was raspy,
"I'm a fighter."
"Well," I stood up off the couch and threw my hands up in the air and proclaimed, "I'll make sure to tell the queen." I walked to the door, practically stomping, which I knew I looked ridiculous doing. I opened the door, "It was nice meeting you." All he did was stare at me. He uncrossed his arms, and sat on the couch.
"In case you don't remember, which you obviously don't, I was told to stay until Madame Celia returns from the tour." He simply stated. As he said this he reached for the remote. "Which, luckly for you, last years tour lasted about three hours, due to the lovely commentary provided by your instructor." Three whole hours, stuck with him?
"Wait. How were you at last years tour?" He looked over at me.
"Being the son of the owner has its perks." I let go of the door and it slowly shut. He redirected his attention to the television and began flipping through the channels. I walked towards the kitchen, my eyes on him the entire way. I tried my best to make myself look busy. I began exploring the cabinets. I found everything perfectly organized, there were three sizes of plates, each in there own stacks. The silverware was perfectly polished and there were so many different tools sorted in the mastery of a kitchen, all of which I learned how to use in my first year attending here. One of the first things they taught us was how to cook.
"Not one bloody sports channel." I turned my head and saw him turn the television off and re-cross his arms.
"Well, you are in the girls' building." I stood watching him as he stared at the blank screen. After a few moments he stood up and walked over to me. I stood looking up at him, for he was about a foot taller than me. He sat in one of the bar stools that stood in front of the counter, and spoke instantly.
"Tomorrow night there is a welcoming ball, both the boys and girls are going, so we get to know each other. They usually pair us up, but you're going with me." I stood there, he seemed half bored, and told me this like I had no choice, which reflecting on my experience with him, I didn't.
"And, how are planning to make that happen?"
"Considering I'm the one taking care of you after your dramatic meltdown, I assume it will be easy." I stared at him skeptically.
"Why would you want to go with me, of all people?" This seemed like an obvious question.
"To make sure you don't smart mouth to the wrong people." I leaned against the counter.
"When did they start assigning bodyguards at this school?" I asked, my voice light and sarcastic.
"They didn't. You just got lucky." He stared at me. I stared back.
"Fine then, Ill go."
"What? Don't have some sort of comment to throw back at me?"
"Actually, no." He snorted.
"Well, its not like you would have had a choice anyway."
"I figured." We stayed silent, until a question came across my mind. "Wait, did you say ball?"
"Yes, gowns, tuxedos and all. All those dances lessons we were forced to take are finally going to pay off."
"You took dancing lessons at your school too?"
"Of course. If only the girls learned how to dance, there would be no one to dance with them."
"Gowns?"
"Yes, yes, your princess dreams are coming true, you get to wear a ball gown." Part of me was delighted, yet the other part of me was worried I would swallowed whole by a ball gown.
"But we only have one day, how are every guy and every girl going to find a tuxedo or ball gown? It's unethical."
"Well, I don't know about you guys, but we have already had fittings and bought ours." I vaguely remembered a day when Madame Celia called us all together 8 months ago when a lady with an American accent visited our school. Madame Celia never told us about the ball, but she did tell us that the lady, who's name was Emily, was going to get our measurements, for a "special occasion".
When it was my turn I remember how while Emily was measuring my waist, she complemented me on my eyes. She said the green went amazing with my dark hair and pale skin. I then saw her write the word, emerald green on a piece of paper with my name and measurements.
I hadn't thought of what the "special occasion" could be again, probably because I was caught up in the fact that we got the rest of the day free of lessons.
"I think we had our fittings too, I vaguely remember something like it." He nodded. "Now what?"
"Well, you don't have a proper television." I ignored him.
"This place is huge." He shook his head in agreement,
"I know."
"I mean seriously, did you see those closets? They're almost just as big as the room." He looked confused,
"What?"
"The closets, they're huge."
"No they're not."
"You must be really spoiled."
"By spoiled do you mean three feet long and one foot wide?" I walked towards the bedroom door. I opened it and I felt him follow me to the door by my bed, I opened it and walked in.
"They're huge."
"Well, yours are. Ours aren't nearly this large. And we have three people per apartment, not two." I walked out, and so did he. He sat back down in a bar stool and I stood.
"I still don't like you." I stated simply.
"Good, the feeling's mutual." Before I could stop myself, or realize what I was doing, I walked over to him and lifted the hair off my neck, revealing my scar,
"Why did you do this to me?" I felt a hand on my waist, he turned me around to face him, he was suddenly standing, and his face was two inches from mine. His hand moved from my waist to my shoulder, as well as his other hand; I released my hair, it hid my scar once again.
"That wasn't me."
"Then who's your look alike with the same name?"
"It was just a dream."
"How do you know that it's a dream?"
"Because, if it wasn't, that would mean you remembered, and that is impossible."
"So it was you. Remember what?" My curiosity couldn't hold much longer.
"If you were supposed to remember you would."
"I think I've waited long enough, don't you?" We stared at each other for a few moments, but once I stepped away, he answered in a low, hushed voice,
"Yes, I think you have." I heard a door open. My head snapped towards the sound, and I started walking towards the door. Madame Celia stood in front of the now closed door with a strict look on her face and her clipboard against her hip. I had never seen her so mad. I stood where I was; she walked towards me. Before I could react, she did the last thing I would ever have expected her to do. It happened in a flash, I felt the sting before I knew what happened. Her hand came into contact with my face for only a second, yet I felt all her strength behind the pain. My hand lifted to my face on instinct, and I felt my jaw drop. I felt someone step up behind me. Madame Celia's eyes expanded, she smoothed down her hair, and began fidgeting with her suit jacket, which was unheard of.
"Oh, Theodore, you're still here?" I turned my head, and when I did I saw that he was staring at her, with his eyes stone cold. His arms were crossed and legs slightly spread apart.
"Of course." She cleared her throat and straightened her back,
"Well," Her voice was stern again, although there was still some uncertainty hanging in her voice, "You may go, forgive my violence."
"Don't ask for my forgiveness, ask for hers." He walked out the door and closed it silently behind him. Once he left, Madame Celia lost all composure. She hurried over to the kitchen and collected a plastic bag and filled it with ice. I stood glued to the place I was standing. She hurried back over to me, and handed me the icepack. I lifted it to my face, and stared at her,
"Don't you ever embarrass me like that again, do you hear me?" I furrowed my eyebrows,
"What?"
"You embarrassed me in front of Locke. Don't do that again. Ever." I couldn't stop myself,
"Are you kidding me?" I took a breath, "I coul-" She stopped me,
"Don't you dare talk to me like that, listen, I don't care what's going up in here, "She pointed towards my head," but I do care about your actions. Never, do that again, ever." I simply nodded. She then straitened her coat and smoothed her hair as she walked out the door. "Good day, Bethany will update you on the information later that you missed."
"It's Brittany." But she didn't hear me, for she was already out the door.
So what I said in the last chapter forget it I'm just going to be update here
