AWCN - Chapter 3 - A terribly beautiful thing.

Zephira swallowed hard, her palm rested on her lower abdomen and she squeezed the leather handles of her bag. The grainy feel of the leather rubbing on her fingers suddenly made her realize it was the only thing she had in the world. Gingerly stepping inside the room, her eyes flicked from one face to the other but her eyes couldn’t seem to focus on either face. She’d never even thought to ask a single question about whom she’d be expected to live with. I mean, why were they here? Had they slashed their own wrists, too? Or worse, cut some unsuspecting family members throat in their sleep? Shit, shit, shit. She attempted a smile but the way it sat on her lips felt wrong. She took a deep breath and attempted to search for a sign on either of her roommates faces, anything that may help her feel at ease. Unfortunately, the arched brow of the chocolate skinned, pretty girl, slouched on her bed and appearing disinterested spoke volumes.

“I trust you’ll both help her settle in,” Miss Williamson spoke in a high-pitched voice that didn’t seem to carry much confidence, it was more like an order than a request. “Lights out in one hour so you’d better get moving if you wish to unpack before morning. I bid you all goodnight.”

With a quick shove of Zephira further into the room, Miss Williamson was gone and the door slammed shut behind her.

“Oh, bloody charming ain’t she.” The blonde tutted from the corner.

Zephira’s eyes darted toward the voice, her breath quickened with fear, or was it anxiety? She was yet to figure it out. Then, a warmth passed through her veins where the aching chill had been previously. It felt like sunshine on her face at a happier time, when all was right with the world.

“Oh, yeah, as charming as a body snatcher.” Zephira sniggered, feeling much more like herself. She kept her eyes on the blonde. “Which bed is mine?” she asked, afraid of pissing the other girl off or even making eye contact with her after the painful look she’d shot her from the doorway.

“It’s that one.” The blonde said, flashing a radiant smile and pointing to the bed with a worn pink comforter over it. Zephira struggled toward it with her bag, her cheeks pinked as she felt the other girl in the room eyes boring into her.

“Kesia, aren’t you even going to say hello?” The blonde asked, as Zephira placed her bag beside the bed.

“Why are you here?” Kesia directed a hooded glare in Zephira’s direction.

Her mind spun with a million things to say, after all she had a plethora of reasons she could offer her disgruntled looking roommate. “I could ask the same of you.” Zephira said in attempt at being smart, fight fire with fire. It had been her experience that if you treat mean girls with your own helping of meanness it tended to shut them up, if only for a short time.

“Suit yourself,” Kesia said before pressing her lips together and looking back down at her book.

“That’s your wardrobe over there and your uniform is in it.” The blonde pointed at the dark oblong with thin doors. “We’ve been speculating who would turn up. You’re late, you know?” The blonde girl babbled making Zephira shake her head quickly in an attempt to process all the girl had said.

“Why am I late? I’m here before the lights went out, isn’t that as good a start as any?”

The blonde giggled. “I meant for the start of term, silly.” She flapped her hand toward Zepira as though she was a moron.

“Term?”

“Yes, term.” She nodded, smiling as if to say her previous comment had not at all been intended to offend.

“They call it a semester over there.” Kesia offered in a barely audible mutter without glancing up from the book she was clearly pretending to read whilst eavesdropping on the conversation in the room.

The blonde appeared to ignore Kesia and continued to smile and stare with sparkling eyes in Zephira’s direction. She’d never been attracted to girls, it just wasn’t her thing, but this girl made her feel so at ease it was difficult to explain the warmth inside, even to herself. Even with the moody Kesia in the room she’d experienced a strong sense of well being since she’d walked into the room and took one look at the amenable blonde girl. It was the last thing on earth she expected to feel.

“What’s your name?” The blonde rose from her bed during her question and leapt towards her like a gazelle. “Mine is Brooklyn, pleased to make your acquaintance.” She giggled and shoved her hand towards Zephira’s stomach.

Zephira gingerly took it and gave it a limp shake.

“Here, let me help you.” Brooklyn heaved the bag onto the Pepto-Bismol coloured bed cover and began unzipping it. In usual circumstances Zephira would have given the girl a shove and told her to get away from her stuff, but for some reason she didn’t feel the need to at all, in fact her mind welcomed the help from this girl. The place was having a weird effect on her, that much she’d fathomed in the few hours of arriving.

“They took my phone.” Zephira whispered, not wishing for the silent Kesia to interject with any smart comments.

“I know, they take every ones.” Brooklyn replied utilizing the same hushed tones as though she’d fathomed the reason for Zephira’s whisper.

“Do you know how you’re meant to earn it back? I mean, what am I supposed to do if I don’t want to do their goddamned stupid work?” Zephira heard her own voice pitch high, her throat swelled again and her eyes stung with tears.

“Shhhh.” Brooklyn soothed rubbing Zephira’s arm. “It will be okay. This place isn’t all that bad once you get used to it. It’s definitely better than where I’ve come from anyway.”

Zephira’s interest piqued, exactly what did it take to end up in a place like this? Her eyes fell to Brooklyn’s wrists in wonder if it took cutting them to get into here, her long sleeved pajama top rose and fell with the movements involved in extracting Zephira’s clothes from the bag. White silvery lines marked even the top of the wrists and Zephira struggled to tear her gaze away, wanting to see the extent of what Brooklyn had done to herself. Brooklyn flinched and took a step back, tugging at the cuff of her top.

“Sorry.” Zephira held her palms up to Brooklyn who was quickly retreating backwards toward her bed.

“It’s okay, I’d better get some rest anyway, it’s my first test tomorrow.” Her head was lowered as she sat heavily on her bed at the other side of the small room.

Shit…find a friend and then manage to alienate them within ten minutes. Way to go, Zephira thought shoving her clothes into the drawers in the bottom of the wardrobe beside her bed. She changed quickly, glancing at the clock and realizing it was almost ten o’ clock and she’d soon be shrouded in darkness. She kicked the empty bag under the bed and hopped in, pulling the covers up around her head just like Brooklyn had done after Zephira had mortally offended her.

There was a weird fuzz of electric before the room went black, the lack of noise was amazing, her breathing sounded like that of an asthmatic in the deafening silence, she couldn’t even fathom her roommates noises over her own. She fidgeted in an attempt to get some heat into her bones, she didn’t figure the room was cold, it was the chill that seemed to reside within her no matter what she tried to rid herself of it. Her own father had been afflicted in much the same way, once he’d gone she knew she’d never have anyone else to turn to that would understand the dark clutches that crept in through your skin and attacked your heart and soul leaving only blackness in its wake. Her mother had been left in despair when she’d placed a silvery blade against her wrists and pressed down watching with fascination as the knife entered through her pale skin and crimson trickled around to her forearm like a blanket of warmth. Flashes of light and her mother’s raised voice in pinches of shrill words were the only thing that managed to get through after she’d sliced her skin. Beyond that was whispers in the hallway, blank-see-through-me-stares from so called friends she’d had since kindergarten and a text message calling things quits from a boyfriend she’d shared play dates with as a kid. She guessed her wrist slashing activity wasn’t socially acceptable in the circles of clean white kids that lived in oversized houses and drove cars way out of their league. Well, they just hadn’t lost what she’d lost, how would they ever be able to understand why she’d done what she’d done? Her breathing steadied along with her rabid self-destructive thoughts as she brought herself to the white sandy beach she’d long since pictured as her safe place, the only thing the three-hundred dollar an hour therapist had taught her that was anything of worth. She hoped, deep down, that this school could, at the very least provide her with something of value at the end of her mother’s six month tour when she could go back home and lock herself in her bedroom.

***

Behind her eyelids flashed a light red, her fists balled and her jaw locked. The jerk of her body in the dorm room at Winterbury found her standing at the foot of the bed in a musty smelling room. The same room she’d been standing in the previous day, her mother’s cheap hotel room.

“We’ll have to cancel.”

“We can’t, I need this tour and so do you or we’re both done.” Her mother drawled in a surprisingly coherent manner considering the slowness of it and her closed eyes. She took a sleepy deep breath before continuing. “Make-up will cover it.”

“You ain’t seen the state of you,” Ted said as though he hadn’t been the one to afflict it, she knew given the last scenes of the last vision only too well he had been the perpetrator of her mother swollen cheekbone, already aubergine coloured eye socket and bloodied lip. Judging by the stench of cheap wine in the air she figured her mother, and probably Ted had drank away their shared sorrows following their argument.

“Listen, I--,”

“Yeah yeah.” Her mother lifted a hand from atop the bed cover and flapped it toward him. “I know…you didn’t mean to do it…it won’t happen again.” Her tone dripped with sarcasm. Ted’s head whipped around to view his victim through narrowed eyes. “Fuck you.” His teeth were bared. Zephira wanted to stay as the room seemed to wobble around her but she knew she couldn’t wait to see how this one panned out, her head slammed against something hard and her body continued to convulse as she swam out of the vision.

“How long has this been going?” A sharp male voice pierced the here and now, Winterbury air, as the involuntary twitching in her limbs ceased.

A chorus of female voices answered him but none seemed to know the answer, either that or her brain couldn’t comprehend their voices apart from one another.

She prised her eyes open to find a dark haired male hovering over her.

“Hello.” His face morphed from the crumpled look of concern to a cheery trustful smile. “Nice to have you back with us, Zephira.”

Her throat produced a weird gargling noise as she glared at the guy who could have been her father’s father, but she knew that was impossible as he’d died long before him and was American, this guy had a Southern Irish twang that could have belonged to a fully grown Leprechaun that had smoked too many cigarettes to give him a sexy husk. She glared at him unsure of what to say, what would he do now? Electric shock therapy? A hypodermic needle filled with sedatives?

“When was the last fit?”

She pursed her lips and gathered her brows, the way he’d said the word fit was lingering for such a short word.

“Yesterday,” she whispered, exhausted from the vision, much the same way epileptics are tired from their seizures. She’d always known what she experienced were not true seizures. In a way it felt like an insult to the people that truly suffered with that particular medical problem. The things she saw out of her body were in real time, they were happening, and she witnessed them. She knew that for sure without another soul having to tell her. The first one she’d had was aged thirteen and on the worst night of her life, the night that had changed everything, for both her and her mother. This wasn’t the first time she’d watched her mother crash and burn, the tour had been the wrong choice for both of them. She’d slipped back to sleep, but the soothing tones of the mans voice stirred her.

“I’m sorry, I’m so tired.” She replied groggily having not took in what he’d said.

The man smiled. “Seizures will do that to you.”

There it was again, though now he used the medical terminology.

“They’re not…” She began before bumping her lips together. Who was she kidding, and why did she feel the need to trust the people here so much? She had no idea.

“Sorry? What were you saying?”

She detected glee in his voice.

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter.”

“Do you feel well enough to get dressed and go for breakfast?”

She nodded and reached for the side of the bed to aid herself to her feet, her eyes shot open as he placed a warm velvety hand over hers.

“We’re all here to help you. You mustn’t forget that.”

She nodded again before he grabbed the other hand and helped her to her feet. She looked at the faces of her roommates. They seem to have been silent, or at least she hadn’t noticed them making a sound since she come around. Despite how the previous night had ended with Brooklyn she smiled at Zephira and the man who’d rushed to her aid whilst he’d helped her up off the bed. “Don’t worry Mr. Raferty, I’ll take care of Zephira and I’ll get in touch with you as soon as anything else happens.” A blush spread over her cheeks as her eyes flew wide and her fingers smacked over her lips. “I mean, if anything actually goes wrong that is. Sorry.” She glanced at Zephira and back to Mr. Raferty. A laugh as velvety as his hand escaped his throat and Zephira suddenly realised the reason for poor Brooklyn’s nervous display and was unable to hide her smile in response.

“It’s okay, thanks, Brooklyn, I’d appreciate that. Take care of yourself and I’ll see you around, but hopefully not too soon.” He flashed Zephira a warm grin and left through the wide open dormitory door, closing it behind him.

As soon as he left Brooklyn slumped as though she’d been holding herself up straight throughout the entire time he’d been there inspiring a giggle from Zephira despite her desperately trying to swallow it.

“You noticed too then.” Came the monotone voice of Kesia from across the room.

Zephira just nodded, not sure whether Kesia actually wanted to engage in conversation with her or not. Brooklyn had been welcoming and kind and the last thing she wanted to do was annoy her again.

“Notice what?” Brooklyn glanced wide eyed between the two other girls with her palms skyward and her shoulders hitched around her ears.

“I hate to tell you this if you hadn’t realised it, girl…but you’re hot for him.” Zephira quickly looked in Kesia’s direction to find her smirking, her head seemingly pointing toward a book.

“I am not.”

Zephira almost expected Brooklyn to stamp a foot she looked so mad, her face was puce and she continued to look wildly from Zephira to Kesia.

“It’s okay.” Zephira smiled walking over and patting Brooklyn’s shoulder reassuringly thinking she looked like she could use a hug. “I guess that’s just what happens when you’re cooped up at a school with no boys.” Even Kesia made eye contact with Zephira following that comment.

“What made you think that there’s no boys here?” Brooklyn tilted her head to one side as she asked.

“Well, I just…what, so there is boys here?” Zephira’s brows drew in and her jaw tightened.

Brooklyn smiled and slung her arm around Zephira’s shoulders and guided her to the window. She gingerly looked down and saw the window faced the courtyard that she’d been brought through the night before. Across the courtyard stood another building that she could swear was an exact replica of the one she stood in, though it was hard to tell from the inside. “That’s the boys dorm. The school used to be all girls and was all in the main school over there.” Brooklyn jabbed a finger in the direction of the main building where she knew the headmaster’s office was, she could tell because it looked a lot grander than the dorm house that she’d been led to the night before. Her eyes darted from one intricately carved piece of stone to the next, set out like memories, each one as important as the next. It was as if the building had once been ordinary, built of stone, but then something magical had occurred and the artist, or artists, had carved spectacular visions onto the stone and made it special and somehow important. Swirls reigned next to squiggles, next to lines and they all joined together so that in the light of the autumn rising sun they appeared deeper etched into the building like a part of what it had become.

“What is this place,” she whispered, her eyes still dancing with the beautiful spectacle before her, this place was far more than met the eye.

Brooklyn laughed and Zephira turned to meet her smile, her brows scrunched with confusion.

“What just because there are boys here? You yanks think we’re all frigid or something?”

Zephira smoothed her features out, realizing Brooklyn’s misunderstanding of her rhetorical question. She shook her head and gazed back out of the window. “It’s time to get dressed, we’re going to be late.” Brooklyn stood up straight again and marched toward the wardrobe beside Zephira’s bed. Your uniform is here, pop it on and we can head for breakfast. Zephira’s open-mouthed expression seemed to have amused Kesia as she laughed for the first time since her arrival.

Phew I was only 4 weeks and 30 minutes late! I am so sorry! I have been through as much hell as Zephira, but I'm hoping to be back on track now. I don't promise a thing! 

I would love it if you would think about what Winterbury's uniform looks like during this week? I'm popping this on Wattpad as well now.

I'd be very grateful for some followers by e-mail and/or comments it makes me feel like I have a purpose to write! 

Thanks for reading!

L.T. Kelly © 2017

AWCN - Chapter Two - Welcome to Winterbury

Chapter Two

Welcome to Winterbury

What she’d seen remained on a sickening repeat cycle until she spotted the bank of buildings to the left illuminated by the eerie glow of floodlights. There was nothing else around, not a house, a shop, nothing.  A large sign at the roadside indicated they had arrived at Winterbury College.

The college was set smack dab on remote moorlands. The car swung up to a set of back iron gates, easily the width of six buses. The gates were held up by weathered grey stones, and guarded by creepy looking gargoyles. The dumb ass henchman inspected the stone from the open car window, presumably looking for some sort of intercom. Zephira’s jaw felt as though it was about to snap because her teeth were clenched so tightly together. Bile rose to her throat as the gates slowly creaked open.

Her breathing quickened when she spotted frown lines worrying the henchman’s forehead in the rear view mirror as he peered out of either side vehicle before driving through the opened gates. The tyres crunched across the gravel toward the school entrance where a tall slender figure loomed at the top of the front steps. Her face was illuminated in the burnt orange glow of the floodlights.

Zephira inspected the building surrounding the lone figure, but her eyes constantly drew back to the women. The woman’s face appeared to be etched with lines that matched the gargoyles that were carved into the stone around the twelve foot wooden doors, with cliché black metal studs lining the joins.

Zephira’s stomach lurched repeatedly, her hand flying to sooth it with a rub as the henchman grunted toward the backseat after bringing a car to a halt. She glared at the woman she guessed was waiting for her, but the woman stared straight ahead, unflinching and seemingly unaware of the car stopped at the bottom of the stone steps below.

“Go on then, love. I ain’t got all day.” The driver grumbled, making her tense, aching shoulders shoot up. She was like a great big ball of nervous energy, and no matter how many times she willed herself to relax, it just wasn’t going to happen. He growled and her fists balled in response, her shaky fingers searched for the door handle in the fear that she really would give the driver something to grumble about, like a smack in the back of the head.

The figure at the top of the stairs still didn’t move at the sound of the car door opening. She became disinterested in the building and focussed on the woman, unsure if she was actually a statue and a part of the weird décor.

The rush of the icy September air flooded Zephira’s nostrils and her shoes hit the gravel, still the woman remained as still as stone. She headed for the trunk to collect her belongings seen as the driver didn’t seem as accommodating as he’d been in front of her mother by shifting her bag to the car. With her single piece of luggage slung over her shoulder, she headed up the twenty or so steps that the figure stood at the top of.

“Ahh, good evening. You must be Miss. Laceby?” The woman’s voice was a nasal whine. The formidable female statue seemed to have been motion activated as she’d become closer, her head dipped along with the greeting. Zephira peeked behind her at the car that was moving away from the building, the bottom of the steps weren’t that far away. It wasn’t as if the woman wouldn’t have seen or even heard her arriving. Zephira shifted from one foot to the other, uncertain if the chilly weather was giving her the heeby jeebies, or whether it was the woman.

“Well young lady?”

Zephira flinched, not expecting of her voice that was pitched higher than her initial question.

Zephira cleared her throat and attempted to maintain eye contact with the woman’s avid stare. Her eyes were a weird grey colour and her clothes were willowy and black with a collar that came up to her throat before it curled out a little. Zephira glanced behind herself again checking that she hadn’t stepped through some sort of time warp.

Zephira’s breath caught in her throat, scratching at it and rendering her speechless. She quickly nodded as the woman’s mouth opened to speak again, and judging by the disapproving look on her face her words weren’t going to be of the welcoming variety.

The woman raised a brow and clasped her hands together in front of her. “Very good. Follow me.” The woman spun and took large steps toward the gigantic arched oak doors.

Zephira struggled to keep up with the woman. Her mind reeling that she hadn’t even bothered to introduce herself. Her confusion morphed to anger. “Where the hell are you taking me?” It was only a second later that she realised she’d spoken, she thought that it had stayed inside her mind which is fully where she had intended it to remain. The woman stopped dead and spun back to face Zephira’s reddened cheeks.

“I beg your pardon, young lady.” She flashed a sickening smile as though she’d fully expected Zephira’s minor outburst.

Zephira balled her fists, her cheeks burning fiercely. “You heard me,” Zephira muttered through gritted teeth figuring that it had escaped her mouth so she may as well stand by her question.

“You’re going to be processed into the school the same way as everyone else is.” The woman spoke calmly but firmly.

“And what the hell does that involve?” She raised her voice a little trying to tone down the anger that she could feel bubbling ferociously.

“You ought to watch your language, young lady.”

Zephira huffed and squeezed her eyes closed, if there was anything she hated it was being referred to as a young lady. She knew she was anything but that.

“I don’t even know why I’m here,” she whined, again a comment she’d meant to internalise but failed. Zephira shook her head trying to fathom what on earth was it with this woman that forced her to voice her thoughts?

“I’m scared.” There she went again saying the precise thought that popped into her head as soon as she’d thought it.

“I know, dear.” The woman’s entire face softened as she unclasped her hands to place one on her shoulder. “First you’ll meet the headmistress.” Her face rearranged back to stony in a nano second as though she’d suddenly remembered her persona should be stern. “Come along, it’s getting late and there’s much to do before bed.”

Zephira didn’t even get chance to ask what it was that they’d be doing because the woman strode through the doorway into a cavernous stone entrance lined with polished dark wooden doors on either side of an enormous sweeping staircase. The place was eerily silent as though her and the weird woman were the only ones there. Zephira struggled to keep up, her bag feeling heavier and heavier as she ventured up the staircase. The tapping of the woman’s heeled shoes banged through her brain until she stopped abruptly outside of a large door.

“Wait there.” The woman pointed at a dark wood bench cushioned with red velvet upholstery.

Zephira’s bag slammed on the floor beside the bench at the same time as the office door closed behind the woman.  She slouched down on the bench and glared between the balcony spindles at the wooden chandelier hanging above the great entrance hall below. She sighed heavily in an attempt to break the deafening silence of the place. The bare walls freaked her out, she wondered how the hell people didn’t get lost because everything looked the same. The bare stone walls and dark wooden doors were uniformly spaced out along the wall about four metres apart. Where was everyone? This was meant to be a school. You could have heard a mouse fart in there because it was so silent. She almost suffered whiplash when the door reopened and she saw a short dumpy lady with thick grey hair bundled glamorously on top of her head.

“Good evening Miss. Laceby. Please join me in my office.”

Zephira had already jumped to her feet as soon as the door had opened. Everything so far had been weird, her stomach churned and her mouth was so dry. She suddenly wished she’d eaten something in the last few days instead of throwing a tantrum and going on a hunger strike, well, that’s what she’d called it, but really she just didn’t think she could stomach anything. Zephira stepped slowly toward the lady but her eyes darted toward her luggage and she held up a palm to stop her entrance. “Bring the bag, too.”

Zephira looked up and down the empty corridors, it was hardly as though anyone was going to steal it, the place was deserted. She shrugged, rolled her eyes and snatched it up charging through the now empty doorway.

“Are you at least going to tell me why I’m here?” Gees, why the hell do I keep coming out with this stuff? She asked herself, glaring at the woman who’d she’d met on the front step as though she was suspicious that she had something to do with speaking her thoughts out loud. The grey haired lady positioned herself behind a desk on the far side of the room, her back was to a window lined with lead crisscross shapes and a plush red captains chair awaited her bottom behind her.

The grey haired lady pushed her fists onto the desk and leaned on them, peering at Zephira with pursed lips. “I see you’ve met Miss. Williamson, she will be your main tutor here. If you should have any issues then it’s her you’ll need to make an appointment to see. I do hasten to add that you may speak with any tutor if you feel the need to. I am the head mistress, Miss Crowther. We want to help you to get better here.

“Why are you saying that? Better? There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“We are quite aware of what’s been happening at home. We believe you coming to the United Kingdom, no matter the perceived main reason, was so you could attend this school and we could help you achieve your potential.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me.” She insisted, slamming her bag to the highly polished floor. She stood straight, fighting the urge in fan her burning cheeks.

“Quite.” The grey haired lady spoke in a whisper. “Lift up your cuffs, Zephira, show us how well you’ve been.”

Suddenly she was staring at the bag before her feet, her mothers face looking all serious, the strip lights of the hospital corridor whizzing by above her head as the trolley from the emergency room rushed to the cubicle, the doctors and nurses calling out requests as the pressure on her wrists became too much to bear and she struggled against them wishing for a different kind of light. “Daddy,” she whispered, not just then but there in the school office right in front of Miss. Williamson and Miss. Crowther.

“We know, Zephira, we know, and we’re going to help you see exactly what you can be so you never have to consider doing anything like that again. I’m sorry but we need to move on to the formalities now. Please bring your bag to my desk.”

Zephira’s head snapped back and her eyes narrowed. “What the hell do you want with my bag?”

“We need to check for yours and everyone else’s safety that you’re not bringing anything here that could harm you or anyone else.”

“Well, there’s nothing in there.” She huffed and folded her arms across her chest in a stance of defiance.

“Then there shouldn’t be an issue with allowing us to take a look then should there? Besides we also need to produce an inventory of your belongings.”

“Shit,” she hissed. “This really is the nut house isn’t it?”

Both teachers glared at her stony faced, not a flicker of shock marred their features. Seeing that she had no choice, she lifted up her bag, took three steps forward and flung it on the desk.

“Thank you.” The grey haired lady turned to Miss. Williamson and said, “Shall we?”

Miss. Williamson rose with the grace of a peacock in full bloom and proceeded to unzip the bag. Soon the contents were laid out. The bottle of vodka she’d wrapped up neatly within a bundle of clothing mocked her from the center of the desk, Miss. Williamson lifted it and strode to the other side of the room without comment.

“Now that little issue is ironed out Miss. Williamson will take you to your dorm room. Please repack your belongings and follow her. Quick as you can.” She flapped her hand as though Zephira wouldn’t understand the concept of speed without a hand gesture. “It’s getting late.

Zephira’s cheeks still burned from the discovery of her little problem, downing whatever alcohol she could get her hands on seemed less far fetched than taking a blade to herself, so she’d used it to fight the desire. Now, so it seemed, that particular crutch wouldn’t be available to her. She shuffled up to the desk and shoved the remainder of her belongings back into the bag.

“What about my cell?” She asked in a small voice.

“We will call your mother to let her know you arrived safely.” The headmistress mimicked her low voice.

“That’s not what I mean. I mean, I want it back, it’s mine.”

“Winterbury College isn’t like other places, Miss Laceby, if you want things you have to earn them. It really is as simple as behaving and applying yourself to the work you’re given.”

 With that said the headmistress left, her exit clearly marked with the click of the door leaving an air of stony silence behind her. Zephira glanced up to find Miss. Williamson beside her.

“Come along now, Miss. Laceby.”

Miss. Williamson charged along the corridor and down the stairs she’d earlier ascended and headed towards a large dark wood door that appeared to match the one at the front. The chilly Northern English night air bit at her cheeks as Miss. Williamson pulled the door ajar. It certainly explained why the building was so quiet if the pupils resided elsewhere. The orange floodlights bounced off the old stonework of the buildings either side of the gravel courtyard set fifty or so metres back from the school. Miss. Williamson charged on, calling back to Zephira as she stood stock still with the wind blowing around her ears as she gaped at the large buildings. It didn’t look anything like the prison she’d been envisioning in her mind for the past few days, far from it, it even looked palatial to some degree. She took a few strides, becoming irritated by the nasal whine coming from the Miss. Williamson. She followed her through a small door that could have been a servant’s entrance from back in the day it was built. The corridor swept around the corner and away from the door the parquet floors glistened with polish in the dim light and was only marginally warmer than the courtyard they’d just passed through. Her eyes darted, following the sounds of laughter intermingled with a few harrowing screams. No, she’d been wrong, just because it looked like a stately home spa it was anything but, the sounds alone told her that.

Half way down what appeared to be a mile long corridor Miss. Williamson wordlessly turned sharply and started up a set of narrow stairs. Whilst it looked like no expense had been spared on the decoration of the main school this place was quite the opposite. With the exception of a bit of polish on the floor and dimly lit plastic globed light fittings it was bare and uninviting. She questioned whether it was actually cold in there or if the place simply brought about an eerie chill that travelled to the core of her body. Tiredness overwhelmed her as Miss. Williamson turned toward the next set of stairs. “Stop,” Zephira said breathlessly, throwing her bag two steps ahead of her as though it was a disgusting beastie that was about to attack her.

“Whatever is the matter?” Miss. Williamson shook her head with wide eyes as she spoke, when Zephira failed to respond she huffed and glared at her. “It’s not much further so you must continue.”

“Haven’t you guys heard of elevators?” Zephira wheezed, clinging to the banister.

Miss. Williamson rolled her eyes and continued ahead of her albeit seemingly slower than she had previously.

Zephira willed herself to continue as Miss. Williamson disappeared from sight. Breaching the top of the stairs, her breath burned her throat and an icy chill made her aware of the sticky perspiration covering her skin. A hollow pain shot through her stomach and seemed to go through to her back like a spear doused with pain in liquid form as Miss. Williamson pushed the door in front of her ajar and announced Zephira’s arrival with a statement. “Miss. Laceby, please meet your fellow students and room mates.

© L.T. Kelly 2017

Phew, it was a close call this week, but I finally got it out on time! Thanks so much to Victoria Skye...Marianne was the name I had in my head for Zephira's mother, but Mary-Anne it is!

What weird and whacky suggestions can you come up with for a particular item in the dorm room? That's this weeks challenge and I'm looking forward to reading your comments and suggestions.

Have a great week! Thanks for reading :)

L.T. Kelly