School of Broken Souls

by C. R. Jane

  “Although I’m not sure that’s appropriate to ask your Professor, I’m 21,” he says nonchalantly.

  “Twenty-one? How are you a Professor at that age?” I blurt out, wanting to kick myself at the fact that I just can’t play it cool with this guy.

  We round a bend and I can see rows of doors going down the entire hallway. We walk to the very end of the hallway before we stop before a nondescript wooden door.

  Professor London pulls out a key from his pocket and slips it in the lock. It unlocks with a click and he opens it to reveal what I realize must be my dorm room.

  “I’m a prodigy. I was already teaching some of the classes before I left here. College and a doctorate didn’t take much time after that,” he says as I look around my new room.

  Coffee colored wallpaper covers the walls, a small black chandelier swings slightly overhead as if those in the room above had been jumping about, except it’s dead silent. An upright wardrobe sits in one corner with floral carvings along the top and edges, matching the old-fashioned mahogany desk in the opposite corner. I might as well have stepped into a fantasy world because nothing in this room feels modern. No phone or television either.

  “Welcome to your new home, Ms. Jones,” he says, a whisper of a touch across my back again, so light this time I might as well have imagined it.

  He sets the folder down that Cassie had given us in the Admissions Office, and motions to two closed doors. “Your bathroom and closet are through there. That folder contains your class schedule and other information you will be needing. You’re very lucky that your scholarship came with your own room. You’re one of the few that doesn’t have a roommate in the school.”

  I’m happy to hear that I won’t have to share my space. Although it probably would have made making friends a bit easier.

  “Curfew is at ten. That means that any members of the opposite sex need to be out of your room at ten,” he says, ending his sentence with a slight growl as if the statement offends him.

  I nod thinking that won’t be a problem since no member of the opposite sex has really ever paid me any attention before. Although I am suddenly beginning to feel awkward at the fact that a member of the opposite sex, a crazily gorgeous one, is standing in my room right now, staring at me.

  “As your liaison at the school, feel free to come to me with any of your concerns. I think it might be best if you met with me in my office for the next couple of Fridays until you’ve settled in.”

  I nod again gratefully, glad that he isn’t just leaving me alone. He lifts his hand and picks up a piece of my hair, an intense look on his face. I feel shaky, feelings coursing through me that I’ve never had before.

  “You can call me Braxton in our meetings,” he practically whispers as he moves his hand away from me. “I’ll see you soon, Ms. Jones. Welcome to Raven Academy,” he says before striding out the door.

  I sit down on my bed, feeling like I’ve just had an out of body experience.

  “Welcome home,” I whisper to myself.

  Chapter 4

  “Don’t!” I jolt upright in bed, my eyes fluttering open. Sweat trickles down my neck, my spine, and I’m gasping for air.

  What the hell did I just dream?

  Darkness permeated my dreams, it swallowed me, owned me, and I breathed it inside me. I was suffocating.

  And now I can’t shake the dread that clings to my insides like tar.

  I rub my eyes, and it takes a few moments for me to remember this isn’t home or my bedroom.

  This is my dorm at Raven Academy, my new school, my new home.

  A light pattering of rain taps at the window, and I push my legs out from under the blankets and out of bed. The floorboards are cold under my bare feet, and the boards groan from my steps toward the window where clouds darken the morning sky. An open field spreads out before me, trees and other dorms dot the land. Down below, two girls are power walking along the winding track, taking them into the nearby woods.

  Being here feels foreign and wrong. I no longer wake up to the aroma of coffee and eggs Mom makes most mornings, only the smell of a library floods this dorm. The place is old, ancient, with a ton of history I would presume...yet no one can give me details on it. And despite my tour of the school and the fact that I have my own room while others share, I don’t feel comfortable here.

  I glance over to my cell on the bedside table, and not waiting a second more, I ring home.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey Mom. You missing me yet? How’s Dad?”

  “Adeline, it’s wonderful to hear your voice. Dad’s well and he begins his new treatment tomorrow. Hope you’re settling in well. Wish we could talk, but your dad’s sleeping, and I’m already late for work. I’m on a morning shift at the hospital. Love you.” With that, the phone clicks off.

  “Okay.” I toss the phone on the unmade bed and reach for my journal that’s in the drawer along with a pen.

  Four years ago, my best friend in the whole world died from Leukemia, and she made me promise that when she was gone, I would write to her in my journal. I have no idea if she’s in the afterlife, reading my words, but it makes me feel closer to her, like a part of her is still around. I flop onto the bed on my stomach and open to a new page.

  Hey Ash,

  First day in my hellish new school. Bed is hard as iron. My room smells like books. And I wonder if anyone will notice if I don’t wash in the communal girls’ shower? It freaks me out since I’ve never undressed in front of anyone. But like you always used to say, I’ve got to stop being so scared of everything and try new things. So, I’m doing this.

  Speak later, babe. Miss you always.

  I sit up and tuck the book back into the drawer, then decide to wash up before the showers are overcrowded.

  Half an hour later, I’m standing in my room in a crisp new school uniform and running a comb through my wet hair that now reaches down to my chest. I haven’t cut it in months, despite Mom’s insistence, but I want to grow it longer. With no mirror in sight, I use my phone camera to apply eyeliner and mascara, and then I pout my glossy lips. I push back a golden lock that keeps springing over my brow, and I’m ready. No idea if this Academy is strict on makeup, but my last school had no problems.

  I turn to the door and hesitate. I’m doing this for Dad, for his treatment, I tell myself. It makes it easier to move. I lift my chin and grab the class schedule from the table along with my backpack, then I head into the hallway, making my way to the cafeteria.

  Cobblestone walls darken the corridors, but torches on the wall lighten the school. Shadows are everywhere and I can easily mistake this place for an old castle.

  There’s no one else around, and I pull out my map to check that I’m going the right direction. Yep, turn right at the end, cross a courtyard, and then left. Only the clip clop sound of my shoes echoes around me, and I hurry until I reach the open courtyard. In the center sits an enormous stone fountain on a thick pedestal that I hadn’t noticed the day before. A dragon, the color of night, is curling upward from the basin, water pouring out of its mouth.

  A circle of open corridors surrounds the yard, and I spot two guys in black pants and shirts hurrying toward the cafeteria. A breeze blows past, and rain speckles hit my nose. My pleated school skirt glides around my thighs, black, like the uniform at this Academy.

  I hurry after the boys into the cafeteria. I’m happy to see that there’s tons of windows in this room, allowing a lot of natural light to pour in. At the end of the room is a counter, filled with stainless steel platters. A dozen students are eating their breakfast at tables and the smell of eggs and bacon finds me. I stumble forward, my stomach grumbling, and I grab a plate.

  There’s more food than I’ve ever seen before outside of a restaurant and I waste no time filling my plate with eggs, toast, hash browns, dumplings, and sausages... and I’ve only reached halfway along the buffet table.

  The foodie in me gives a little jump of happiness at the fact that I’ll be
back every day to try everything. I grab a waffle from a plate that’s stacked high and look around for where to sit. Deciding to play it safe, I choose a seat against the wall where no one else has sat yet.

  No one seems to notice me; they’re all staring at their barely filled plates. A couple of girls across the room are knee-deep in a conversation, so I dig into my food until I’m full, and chase it all down with a glass of apple juice. Three more students enter, one with tight black curls smiles at me as she passes, but she doesn’t say anything. I get to my feet, place my empty plate in the dish bucket, and head to my first class. One last glance into the cafeteria but no one is looking my way. I feel a little hopeful about that. Maybe this was different than my last school where the whole school gossiped about new students before they stepped foot in the place.

  I leave the cafeteria and follow a cemented path amid the lush lawn. A light breeze whistles past, rustling the trees that pepper the grounds. Something about this place feels abandoned and lonely. Like all the life has been zapped out of it. Several students join my journey. Hardly anyone speaks, and I can’t understand why everyone’s so solemn, so distant, so quiet. Or is this what life in a private school feels like—all dull and focused. I mean, sure, I love the absence of idiots and bullies like Alexia, but I need some color in my world.

  Up ahead a tower comes into view—tall and made of cobblestones, looking more like it belongs in a castle from a fairytale, not on school grounds. My mouth drops open as I lift my gaze. An enormous dragon statue is curled around the building, its chin resting between two crenulations on the top of the structure.

  “Holy crap!” I’m frozen on the path, blown away by the grandeur and beauty of it. I have no idea why dragons are so prevalent in this school, but I’d take them over my last school mascot—a freaking raccoon.

  A guy brushes past me, rushing forward. His shoulder grazes mine, but he doesn’t notice and keeps moving, his head bopping to whatever music he’s listening to on his headphones. By the time I reach the two front wide-open wooden doors, students are rushing inside as if they’re late. I pull out my schedule to double check.

  9.00 A.M. Mythology Explaining History. Dragon Tower, room 307 Mr. Dusk.

  I almost burst out laughing at the name as I step inside where the cobblestone decor continues. Now I’m more curious than ever to discover the history of this place. It’s enormous inside the tower, and a central hallway leads to more hallways and rooms, and this is just the ground floor. A wrought-iron chandelier dangles overhead, filled with lit candles, dozens of them. Despite the breeze on my back from outside, they aren’t flickering at all. Strange.

  Students are everywhere, running about, chatting, and suddenly this feels like a real school. Unlike the cafeteria, everyone in here is lively and hanging out with friends. I turn toward the set of grand stairs curving around the inside walls, and nerves begin to crawl up my spine. What if I don’t fit in here? Not as if I have a chance to leave, but still...

  I just need to make it work no matter what it takes.

  Oversized windows are tinted blue reminding me of a church, casting everything in a bluish tinge. I follow the steps, higher and higher. Students run past me, others stand in my path and I step around them. But no one stares at me, the new girl, so maybe I’m not the only student who’s recently been invited to attend Raven Academy.

  Up on the third floor, I catch my breath and stare at students going off in every direction. I take hurried steps down the dark hallway, scanning each room for numbers. But the doors have no numbers, so I keep moving and opt to veer right, following a girl I spotted in the cafeteria heading in the same direction. Natural light doesn’t reach this passage and only faux torches on the walls light the path. Coupled with the dark wooden doors I pass; I can’t help but wonder if this location was once used as a dungeon.

  The girl ahead vanishes in the shadows and when I arrive at a fork in the passage, I have no clue where to go next.

  A door to my right creaks open, and a young guy with golden locks sucked behind his ears stumbles out as if he were still half asleep. The door shuts behind him, and all I catch is darkness inside.

  The guy stares up and down the hallway, looking confused, and when he catches me staring, he murmurs, “Where’s the exit?”

  I point down the hallway I’ve just come from. “Just down there. Are you all right?”

  His cheeks look sunken and shadows creep under his eyes. “Just need some air.” He swallows loudly and moves on wobbly legs down the corridor, staring at every door he passes as if he’s walking through a fog.

  I turn and decide to go left since it looks brighter. I rush my steps. My phone shows 9:03 A.M. Crap, I’m already late to my first class. I move faster, except there are no doors on this passage. Looks like I went the wrong way.

  Soft voices reach me up ahead, so I power walk, holding my backpack tight over my shoulder. I careen around the corner, cursing myself for not leaving my room earlier. Though I thought I had left with plenty of time...

  “What the hell!” a girl calls out, and I rock back on my heels, pausing in my rush. It takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust to what I’m seeing in the dim hallway.

  A student in a mini black dress, adorned with a gold raven school crest over her heart stands up from her kneeling position in front of a student who has his back to me.

  “Are you fucking blind?” she snarls at me as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “I-I’m lost.” The words fall from my mouth as I stand there frozen, watching the red-haired beauty with a twisted expression marching toward me. My gaze meets the guy’s when he turns his head to look at me. All while he’s clearly adjusting himself to zip his jeans back up.

  Holy crap, he’s hot. Strong cheekbones, square jawline, and the most intense eyes crown a heavy set of brows. A silvery hue seems to shine behind his eyes. He smiles, winking as if what I’ve walked in on is perfectly okay. It isn’t because I don’t want to see this shit. I don’t need trouble.

  The redhead shoves a hand into my shoulder, sending me reeling backward with such force, I trip over my feet and fall on my ass. My bag slides across the floor. “No one comes down this passage, ever!” she yells. “And stop gawking at him that way. You’re such an idiot, creep.”

  I scramble to my feet and grab my bag off the floor, wanting nothing to do with the girl who was giving Silver Eyes a blow job. I saw Alexia do the same once at the back of the gym with Jake, one of the hottest guys in our school...but luckily, she hadn’t seen me. Unlike now where I’ve full blown walked in on the act.

  With one last look at the man who is now turned all the way toward me, dressed in jeans and a black button up shirt, I run back around the corner and down the hall, taking the passage I should have gone down in the first place. The doors have numbers now, but I run past room 307 and push into the bathroom, needing to catch my breath.

  What the hell?

  My breaths come too fast, and all I can picture is Alexia, and the way she would shove me around at school. I can’t do that again.

  I’m hunched over the bathroom sink, breathing hard. I switch on the cold water. I let it run and stare at it curling and revolving around the drain. I don’t want to face that shit again. Not again. And here I can’t escape by going home. I’m stuck in this Academy.

  “They’ll never give up,” a female’s voice comes from across the room. I twist around to the row of toilet cubicles behind me and find a girl, about seventeen or eighteen years old, with short, dark hair that’s spiked across the top. She presses a hand against the frame, her shirt untucked and hanging over her tiny school skirt. “No matter where you hide, they’ll find you. This is their playground.” She pushes away from the frame and crosses the room.

  “What? Who are you talking about?”

  But she doesn’t respond and continues sauntering out of the room. The door swings shut behind her with a thud.

  Wonderful. It’s a school of weirdos. I splash
my face and wipe it dry with paper towels and then glance into the mirror. My cheeks are flush, pupils wide, and my hair is wild. I pat it down, taming the waves that are sticking out everywhere.

  “You can do this. It’s just a school. And it’s for Dad. Nothing else matters.” I keep repeating the last line in my mind, grabbing my bag off the floor before heading out and going to class.

  One step in front of the other. I can do this.

  I push open the door to 307 and enter, keeping my head low to somehow sneak inside. The class is full, and I avoid looking at anyone as I search for a seat. Luckily, I spot a spare seat in the back row. Perfect. Then I lock eyes with the blow job bitch. She’s bouncing her crossed leg under her desk, chewing on gum, smirking my way like she knows something I don’t.

  “Let’s all welcome our newest student, Adeline Jones,” a male teacher says, his voice filled with mirth.

  I sigh and look his way, ready to explain that I got lost, but when I lay eyes on him, I lose my voice. My breath vanishes too, and my face must be pale because I hear someone laughing.

  I’m staring eye to eye with the teacher who I caught getting a blow job from his student in the hallway.

  Chapter 5

  Mr. Dusk stands in front of the class, tall and so damn handsome, holding onto a leather-bound textbook, his gaze full of amusement.

  I remain immobile near the door, the whole class staring at us. And all I can picture is his grin back in the corridor as he zipped up his pants. No shame at being caught, and just like then, he’s gloating with his smirk, almost proud. Why isn’t he embarrassed or scared of being busted with a student?

  Already there’s so many things that confuse me about this place...like why are we studying mythology in a history class? How is this building filled with students when there was barely a dozen at the cafeteria for breakfast?

  The room is silent, and my face is burning up while sweat drips down my back. My first instinct is to run from the class, hating how everyone stares, judging me. Instead, I lift my chin and head down the side of the room, past a cute guy, then another. I don’t lose my smile until I pass the redhead who licks her lips at me. I cringe. If she enjoys giving a blowjob, good on her, but I don’t need the image in my head. Even if Mr. Dusk is super hot.