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04: Memories of the Dark

04: Memories of the Dark

My plan to get out on Saturday was cut off when I overslept and decided I was fine. I put some normal clothes on and walked through the halls, looking around. There were a few places that were really pretty in this school.

It wasn't a rich person school, but it definitely wasn't for the poor. It wasn't for me. But I wanted good education so that I could smart my way into a good college, so I spent quite a bit of my money on being in the school.

There was one faculty member who knew about my financial status, but I would never tell Councilor Lane James about losing my house. He was very understanding—the person students went to when they had to share something.

When some annoying teacher decided I was "troubled" and needed to talk through some things, I was sent to Mr. James. He was my councilor for almost a year before I confided in him about my parentless situation, and my financial instability.

He understood not to tell, although he was rather reluctant when I wouldn't tell him why it was so important it stayed a secret.

But if he found out I'd been kicked out of my apartment building, he'd want to know where I was. I still occasionally had to report to his office, and he would want an update, but he couldn't know anything else.

I found the courtyard in the middle of the school and walked down the pathway. There were vines interlaced in an archway over the pathway here and there, and bushes filled with luscious flowers and leaves.

If you were shown this part of the school only, you would think it was a school for the incredibly rich kids. This spot and the second story of the building, which had the cafeteria and most of the senior classes.

I sat at a stone bench. It looked archaic. There were chips from it, and vines going around the leg at the center of the bottom of the table. It looked dirty, too.

Lots of students ate out here. I didn't know why I didn't.

It had always been ridiculous how much money I spent on school, considering I was at a money level equivalent to a homeless person.

Wait, I was a homeless person.

If you didn't count the school as home.

But education was my priority. I excelled at my classes because I tried to the best of my ability. If I was getting into college, it had to be on scholarship.

So I was willing to be hungry and slightly homeless if it meant getting into a good college for the career I wanted.

I wanted to be a doctor.

After all my AP and college classes, I didn't have room for the stress of being poor.

But screw that. I'd be smart if it killed me.

Maybe I needed a doctor.

The constant thought of how I'd be a doctor when I was constantly having to flee the state plagued my head often, but I ignored that. When I was an adult, people couldn't get away with using child services to come after me.

A voice broke into my thoughts and I whipped around to see a girl standing behind me. "What are you doing here?" she said quietly.

I knew her. She must have been in one of my classes. "Um..." I looked around in search of an explanation. "What are you doing here?" I finally decided.

"Left my math binder here and we had homework," she said, her voice laced with suspicion.

I nodded and got up. "Well, did you get it?" I asked with a frown. She nodded and I held up my hands. "Good. Go home, then. No one should have to be at a school on a weekend." I did my best to keep my tone polite, although I knew she picked up on the hint of defense in it.