Ashley.
Walking into school was terrifying. I didn't know what to expect anymore. When I got out the limo I was confident, but then I looked at the school. It was big. Posh. And pure white, no stains on the buildings. Nothing. The windows were immaculate, positioned symmetrically.
I felt so small, so immature. Walking up to the doors I was shaking, my knees felt as if they were going to give way. The headmaster was waiting for me, and opened the doors for me as I walked past him. For a private school it was pretty big. The headmaster didn't speak to me, he just followed me inside. I didn't even know his name, let alone his last name.
'Hello, my name is John Critcher, its Ashley Smith isn't it?' He asked, formal. He was facing me, as the doors closed behind him.
'Um, yes, it is.. When do my classes start?' I asked, hesitant.
'We have special orders for you Ashley, you must follow me. You won't be with other students and will not be doing your original lessons, I do apologise that you only just found this out' Mr Critcher said, his voice hoarse.
'What?!' My voice was tight, worried, not how I expected it to.
'Okay, firstly, I'm not just a headmaster okay? I have orders, and one of them is to look after you' He stated, as he started walking down the corridor.
'Umm..' I followed him 'Where are we going? This is a dead end..' I was confused and it showed in the tone of my voice.
'Just watch and learn' He said, tracing over scratches in the wall.
The wall slowly came apart. Like one of those bookshelves, but it separated where the lines were. It was incredible. I could hear students moving around above me. The hustle and bustle of lessons. I was surprised that I wasn't terrified, but I was excited.
My heart was racing. I could see a corridor, with several doors on the sides. I slowly walked towards each one, reading the signs. Each one said 'Subject' and had a number next to it. A shudder went down my spine.
'Am I..' I gulped 'A subject as well?' My hands started shaking, I was falling into an abyss of terror.
He laughed. 'No, you aren't. You are helping us with them. You are not whom you think you are Ashley. You are not normal. Have your likes and dislikes changed since you moved here?' He asked, and it all clicked. I wasn't normal. Or mental. I was meant to be this way. I felt a warmth spread through me. It was all okay. It would be okay.
But then again, what was this? I looked through the small gaps in the doors, the iron bars rusted. A shiver fell down my spine. I could see a plain white room, a small barred up window. I slipped a finger around one of the bars, expecting it to be warm, but all I could feel was a cool rust rubbing against my fingers. It felt strangely calming.
I felt a presence among myself, pins and needles spread through my hand and shot up my arm, making me jump. Then my arm went numb. But I didnt let go, I was intruiged. I felt no pain, but I couldnt look. My eyes were glued to the sign. I almost collapsed. Carol Smith. My mother. Her room. A subject.
I closed my eyes and took an exagerrated breath. My heart was beating, painfully. I looked at my hand. Blood dripped down it, snatching my hand away I tried to wipe the blood away. It kept coming. asI inspected my hand I heard John walk up behind me, even though I knew he wanted me to keep walking, I was frozen to the spot. Small pricks were on the top of each finger. How? I looked through the bars, the room was empty, not even furniture. And the bars hadnt done it to me, no. What was happening this time?
John coughed, turning around I saw his eyes, they were bloodshot.
'Sorry, I forgot to say your mother stayed here once before-' He said, looking at the floor guiltily. I cut him off.
