The heir's predator

III: Blue eyes

Taitu

The alarm pierced through the silence blaring into the room. " Fuck off," I groaned as the music blared through the speakers. Without looking, I tossed the alarm on the floor. The music instantly stopped. I slowly opened my eyes to a dimly lit room. The sunlight filtered through the curtains. A cold metal slightly brushed my skin as I shifted. Drawing back the duvet, a butchers knife laid on my side. Memories from last night came flooding in. Springing out of bed, I clutched the knife and stealthily approached the curtains. Yanking them open, I observed the outside world, everything seemed normal?

The sky was blue as ever and cloud-free. There were a few people strolling on the pavement and cars passing by. I looked ahead over the other houses to the woods at a distant. Everything was fine.

Dismissing the lingering unease, I decided to take a shower and selected my clothes for the first day of school. Recalling my mother's mantra, "First impressions are always important," I begrudgingly adhered to the notion of dressing to impress. My wardrobe options narrowed down to white shirts, plaited skirts, and black formal trousers. Opting for a long-sleeved white shirt and a red and grey plaited skirt that fell just above mid-thigh, I completed the ensemble with black knee-high socks and slipped into my all-black Vans, eschewing the formality of traditional shoes.

I pulled my long braids into a high ponytail and grabbed my maroon blazer , dark red tie and bag. "Ready for your first day?" My father greeted as I entered the kitchen. "Nope," I poured the hot milk then the cinnamon crunch in the bowl. Jordan, seated across from me, chimed in, "Me neither, we just moved two days ago."

"Too bad. I'll drop you two off since you don't know the way." He jugged down his coffee, before heading to the garage.

The drive to school took a good twenty minutes. Upon entering the parking lot, the school swarmed with students. The imposing sign of the institution loomed at the apex, proudly declaring 'Alastair Academy.' 

Exiting the car, we bid our farewells. Opting to release my hair from its ponytail, I noticed that it framed my face more softly than usual. As we walked towards the main reception, occasional glances and hushed whispers followed us.

"Excuse me, my sister and I are new students here. Today is our first day. Could we please have our timetables?" Jordan inquired.

"Ah, we've been expecting you. Names?" responded the receptionist, her fingers deftly navigating the keys on her computer. We stood patiently as she processed our request. Returning with our timetables in hand, she warmly said, "Welcome to Alastair Academy; we hope you'll enjoy your time here.  Now our tour guide should be here..." she trailed off.

"It's okay, we'll find our way around," I offered our thanks before she interjected.

"Nonsense. Oh, here's Principal Howell. Good morning, sir. These are our two new students."

"Ah, yes, nice to meet you. I see that the tour guides are not here; I guess I will be giving the tour," he chuckled, and I forced a polite smile. "Now, this way," he guided as he led us into the hallway. "Alastair Academy opened its doors in 1970, founded by John Alastair and Wahkan Underwood. The school has been running for 44 years, standing as one of the best in the country. Our students leave equipped with the confidence, determination, and qualifications to tread their chosen paths, guided by the values of courtesy, commitment, and a belief in achieving excellence in whichever future pathway they choose," he continued his spiel as we toured the ground floor.

"We take great pride in our science and sports departments. Do you play any sports by any chance?" he inquired as we ascended to the first floor.

"Football and muy thai," Jordan promptly answered, eliciting enthusiasm from Mr. Howell.