Academy of the Artists

Getting Settled In

(I don't even know what I'm doing to be honest) This whole story will most likely be in Bertolt's Point of View because I can do that better I think. Enjoy.

When I woke up, I immediately noticed that I was no longer in Germany. It was a totally different place. It looked a little cloudy, but otherwise beautiful compared to my little town back home. I looked out of the window in awe of the place before me. The one thing I did notice was that most of these people weren't very tan, so I would most definitely stand out from more than just being freakishly tall.

I looked down to my phone to see that my mom had texted me. It was a goodbye message that told me that she would miss me. My dad had told her that I would be back for winter break but she still acted as if she would never see me again. I shook my head at the thought of my mother crying because of me leaving. It always reminded me of dreams that I would have.

I would occasionally have vivid dreams of different ways that I could die. Every time, I would wind up in a coffin, either pale as a ghost, black and blue, or mangled. My mother would be crying her eyes out because of me. The only dream I had like that where she didn't cry was the one I had of me hanging myself. She didn't shed a single tear, just stared at me looking dead inside. I never told them about the dreams. Who would?

Shaking my head clear of those bad thoughts, I put my phone away. I noticed the train station just a little ways up and the train was beginning to slow down already. I stretched and attempted to move my numb legs. I was standing by the time we came to a full stop. I grabbed my bags, which was two small duffel bags that had clothes and a few other important things since toiletries and other necessities would be provided.

I was one of the last few to get off the train, but that was fine. I had to get a map in order to figure out where the academy was, and even with the map it was difficult. I had gotten this small blonde boy to help me, and luckily he was going to the same place. He lived here in England already but was in a run down town. He was one of the smartest people you could ever meet, and was very nice.

He had big blue eyes that would put the ocean to shame. His smile never faulted on the way there, talking about all the things he hoped to learn about. He asked what my talent was and I was hesitant at first to tell him, but then i realized that he wouldn't bully me for being a dancer. He lit up even more when I told him. He started asking questions about where I came from and such. He told me that he had a friend coming from Germany as well, but he lived on an entirely different side of the country.

He told me about how they met online when he was doing some kind of trial for tutoring. I didn't say much until he told me about the different kinds of talents that would be seen throughout my time there. "You'll see kids with wicked painting and drawing skills. Some can sculpt brilliantly as well. There are also a few of musical prodigies, of course. And there are the insanely smart kids like me apparently, and then you obviously have your bloody talented dancers. They don't let in just any dancers here. You have to be bloody amazing for them to even consider. You must have done something good mate."

I blushed at his words. It was weird to hear someone talk with an English accent, and in sure it was weird for him to hear my accent. "What about the room situation?" I asked quietly. He looked up at me with a small smile still on his face. I was honestly wondering how his face didn't hurt from that.

"Well, it's boys with boys and girls with girls. They don't put you with specific people, so don't expect your roommate to have the same talent or likings as you. I think they do that on purpose though so we can expand our social selves." I cringed at the word social. How am I supposed to deal with another person that I don't know anything about. "You okay there buddy?" He asked, showing genuine concern. I was sweating buckets from just thinking about trying to get along with someone. What if the room was really small? What about a bathroom? Do they have to share it?