School of Broken Souls

by C. R. Jane

  I hurry and slide into my chair, dumping my bag near my feet.

  Eyes are on me. So many, and instead of cowering, I remind myself I’m new here. They know nothing about me. I might be a kick ass ninja for all they know, so I square my shoulders and slouch in my chair.

  Confidence, Ash would say. Show them you’re confident and they’ll believe it.

  “Who can tell me what mythology is?” Mr. Dusk begins, and everyone turns their attention away from me.

  All except for a blue-eyed guy with raven black hair cut short along the sides of his head, longer on top. Here I thought Mr. Dusk was hot, Blue Eyes… he’s just freaking blown the teacher away with his looks. Powerful features, a face perfectly aligned, and maybe I’d missed the part where the school was filled with models. Who in the world looks so divine? Most days I’m lucky if I remember to comb my hair, while he doesn’t have a strand out of place, and in his pristine and crisp school shirt, he carries an air about him. I’ve seen this look on Alexia. He’s used to getting his way at any cost. But I can’t stop staring, and something in my chest stirs, like it does every time I see a handsome guy I drool over. But like the others I’ve seen, they’re way out of my league.

  His brow pinches, pulling his thick brows together. The hairs on my arms lift with the way he stares at me as if I’m a deer and he’s the wolf about to attack.

  Eye to eye, I’m uncertain what he wants. Is he staring at the freak new student? Am I that unusual?

  “Alexander,” the teacher snarls. “Grace us with the answer.”

  His gaze lingers on me a moment longer, and I stare into ice blue eyes, so hauntingly deep, he makes me shiver.

  I stupidly smile and even wave because I clearly have no control of my limbs. After that I want to die, I want the world to open up, and I want to disappear.

  Without a response, he turns around in his seat and faces the front, hands stretching out over his desk, fingers tapping the wooden surface. “It’s people’s interpretation of ancient fables and stories.”

  “Yes, but why do these myths exist in the first place?”

  Several hands shoot into the air, and someone answers, “It helps people try to answer the question of why we exist.”

  “Exactly. Now turn to page ninety-six.” While everyone opens their books, Mr. Dusk saunters toward me and places an ancient textbook on my table that’s so big it could easily break my toes if I were to drop it on my foot.

  He bends over at the waist and whispers, “You’re coming in a bit late to the semester, but you can easily catch up. I’d suggest focusing on reading up to chapter eight.” He lowers closer still, and I inhale the strong scent of frankincense and something musky. He murmurs, “Rather than wandering down dark corridors. And then we’ll have no problems.”

  His words leave me shuddering as his mouth spreads into a smile. As he walks toward the front of the room, I catch the red-haired girl glaring my way.

  Okay, so he just threatened me. Perfect start. I shift in my seat, making a mental note to avoid that wing of the Tower for eternity. I swallow hard and curl in on myself.

  Everyone concentrates on the lesson, and that’s when I can really look around at the faces of the students, their styled hair, perfect makeup, and even how some of their school uniforms are different than mine. I’m wearing a black pleated skirt and button up shirt, while most of the girls look like they’ve stepped off a runway show for uniforms. Mini dresses, tight short skirts, V-neck knitted tops, all black, all with the golden school crest with a raven. Where did they get these clothes from? The only clothing left in my room as part of the scholarship looked like the one I’m wearing. I only recognize two other students in the class from morning breakfast, and they’re dressed like me.

  I stare down at my textbook and try to refocus on the lesson. The uniforms must be a way that they separate the scholarship students from the non-scholarship students.

  The rest of the lesson drags on. When the bell rings, I hurry to pack my bag and leave class, noting the red-haired girl making no attempt to move. I go even faster. I don’t want to be the last one in the room with her and Mr. Blowjob.

  Next is a double period of Calculus, and for some reason none of the beautiful students are in this lesson. Maybe they have an aversion to math.

  Something about their absence has me relaxing in my seat and getting on with my studies.

  By lunch time, I’m starving, and I join the river of students moving toward the cafeteria in the Dragon Tower. According to Ms. Lenuta, my calculus teacher who reminded me of my grandma in her knitted cardigan, every building has food, bathrooms, and first aid facilities.

  Yep, the grounds are that enormous.

  I walk into the Dragon Tower Cafeteria that’s now filled with students. Benches and long tables are everywhere, and oversized landscape images of mountains and landscapes cover the walls, giving the impression we’re anywhere but indoors. Soft music plays overhead, a violin tune, and my breath is stolen by this place. The rush of bodies behind me drives me forward, and I’m in awe as I look around. I make my way to the line for food, taking in how many beautiful people attend this school. Most seem to sit towards the back end of the room, while the remaining seats are taken by ordinary students like me. The more I study them, the more I’m convinced this is a place where the rich send their kids.

  Moving up in the line, I reach the food. All of the meals are pre-packed in paper containers, just like the ones we’d get at home when we ordered Chinese takeout. A sign sits in front of each row, and I find myself reaching for the peanut satay beef with fried rice. The drinks come in small cartons as well, with no markings or labels, just the tiny signs indicating what flavor each row is. I grab one that’s labeled diet coke along with an apple. I’m pretty sure I’m going to put on ten pounds in my first week here with this array of food.

  I take my tray and sit at the end of an empty bench. Yep, being new sucks, and I guiltily remember Mom’s parting words about not being shy to speak to people. That will have to come later.

  First, I dig into my meal, scooping a mouthful of beef and rice into my mouth, the peanut sauce melting on my tongue. I stop myself from moaning out loud at how good it tastes just as two students walk up to me. I glance up and almost choke at seeing that it’s the blowjob girl and a blonde, both of them laughing as they walk. The moment the redhead passes, her hand snakes out, snatching the edge of my tray, and flinging it off the table.

  The crash sounds like an explosion, and I flinch. She giggles prettily as if she wasn’t a monster, glancing over her shoulder at me. “Better clean that up, loser. And next time, watch yourself.”

  All that remains of my meal is the apple, wobbling back and forth in front of me. The food in my mouth that tasted so good just a second ago, now tastes bitter.

  Everyone’s attention is on me, and they’re laughing and whistling. No teachers are around. The diet coke spill stains the nearby empty seats. My beef peanut satay is spilled across the floor. No one comes to my aid. Not that I expect them to, but the thought crosses my mind that it would have been a nice gesture.

  I catch Alexander watching me with his posse, his expression stoic, and like in class, he turns his head away, almost in disgust. Because that’s what I am to these elite assholes. A nobody. A piece of scum on their shoes.

  My cheeks are on fire, and fury is fueling my adrenaline.

  I can’t do this again. Not in this school as well. Before I can decide on a response, I grab my bag and apple, and I’m already on my feet running out of the cafeteria. Away from the whispers and laughter.

  In the hallway, I don’t stop running. I dodge students shoving to get into the food hall. I want to be as far from it as possible. I hate this school. It’s somehow possibly worse than my last one.

  I burst into the bathroom. It’s just my luck that the place is surprisingly empty. It’s also so damn large. It has a room with several couches with a door that leads to the stalls, and I flop onto the sofa. Maybe t
his will be my new safe spot, the freaking toilet. Ugh...I hate that I just ran out of there. I can’t believe that on my first day I’m hiding in here like a coward.

  I never chose to attend this school with all the weird students. It doesn’t seem fair.

  I bite into my apple and stare at the white walls, hating my life.

  The front door to the bathroom opens with a thud, and I jump in my seat, half expecting that bitch to have followed me. But it’s another girl, with super curly hair that swings over her shoulders. She slams the door shut behind her and fumbles with the lock before shutting us inside.

  She sounds out of breath. I jump again when she spins on her heels, releasing a long breath, and slouches against the wall.

  Her gaze meets mine. “Oh, you’re in here.” She pushes the thick black glasses sliding down her nose back up. “Hardly anyone uses these toilets.” And as if suddenly doubting her words, she races past me, and palms open the door to the stalls before coming back out. She jumps onto the couch across from me and her shoulders drop as she begins to relax.

  “What are you running from?” I murmur.

  “There are goddamn monsters out there.”

  I ease back, pressing my spine against the couch. “Yes, there are.”

  She leans forward, her bent forearms on her thighs. “So, you’ve seen them too?”

  I process her words at first, studying the way her hazel eyes widen with excitement. “Not sure we’re talking about the same thing.”

  Her lips pinch together, and she reclines in her seat. “You know this school’s filled with secrets. I’ve heard so many things from dead bodies buried in the walls, to lizard people living in the underground sewers.”

  I blink a few times, waiting for her to start laughing and tell me she’s joking. But it never comes, only a serious expression that deepens.

  “Okay,” I say and take a bite out of my apple.

  “Why are you eating in the toilets?”

  “Because there are monsters out there.” I shrug.

  “I’m Mercy.” She reaches over, offering me her hand, and I take it.

  “I’m Adeline, but people call me Adi. And today’s my first day at Raven Academy.”

  She nods, her curls bouncing over her shoulders. “That’s why I haven’t seen you before. Wanna head back to the dorm with me, I need to dump this mammoth textbook and collect my biology one.”

  Just that simple offer has me on my feet, because this is what I need. Someone to talk to me, to make me feel partially human and not like an utter outcast.

  Mercy climbs to her feet and walks over to the door, reaching for the lock, but before she opens it, she looks at me and asks. “You know this school isn’t what it seems, right?”

  Chapter 6

  “What do you mean?” I ask Mercy as we stroll out of the bathroom and past the cafeteria doors. The chatter from inside is deafening, but I have no intention of returning there today.

  She leans towards me as if she’s afraid that someone will overhear her.

  "Haven't you noticed something strange around here?" she asks, her eyes staring at me intently.

  I tried to think. There was the fact that everyone seems to have lost their minds. And also the fact that over half of the student body look like veritable gods walking around campus. I mean freak, I had never seen people that looked as perfect as all of them before in my life.

  "I guess," I say. "I've only been here for one day though. But it does seem like there's something weird going on."

  She grins, as if my answer delighted her.

  "I think we’re surrounded by the Rockefellers and Rothschild families," she whispers.

  Did I just hear right? Great, my new friend was a lunatic.

  I decide to try and humor her.

  “The Rothschilds and the Rockefellers? Aren't the Rockefellers like that rich banking family that buildings in New York City are named after? What does that have to do with the school?”

  Her eyes widen a bit crazily. “I have so much I have to teach you,” she announces, dragging me into an alcove. She leans in even closer, and this time I find myself leaning in too, catching on to the craziness apparently.

  “Everyone knows that the world is actually controlled by the Rothschilds and the Rockefellers. If you Google it there's a minefield of information about it. Nothing happens in the world without one of those two families causing it. The Rothschilds are from Russia and the Rockefellers of course are from the U.S.A."

  "So, what does this have to do with the school?" I ask, not able to hide the skepticism leaking from my voice.

  "The non-scholarship students are obviously from those families. Or at least from allies of those families. The scholarship students only take half of the classes that they do. They have their own special classes. I mean, I haven't seen them for myself, but I just know that their other classes are all about world domination. Why else wouldn’t we be allowed in them?"

  I inwardly groan, but I’m desperate for friends and I’m not ready to walk away from the first person who wants to talk to me for longer than two seconds. "What else can you tell me about the school?" I ask, hoping for some real information.

  “The first rule of Raven Academy is that there is a line."

  “A line?"

  "Yes. There's a line between scholarship and the non-scholarship students. As long as you keep to our side of that line, you’ll be able to stay out of trouble. Haven't you noticed that there’s something too perfect about the non-scholarship kids. Their clothes are better, their skin is better... everything is better about them."

  "Well I wouldn’t say everything," I announce indignantly, thinking of the redhead on her knees in front of the professor.

  “Yes, yes. I know that they are all terrible people. But they own this school. The administrators know it, the professors know it, and you need to know it."

  "So, I just stay out of their way..." I say, thinking of the fact that although I haven't done anything, they seem to have noticed me and some of them definitely have it out for me. Maybe it wasn’t so easy to stay out of their way.

  "Stick with me from now on," she says, leading me back into the hallway. "And make sure you eat on the far side of the room in the cafeteria if I’m not there. In class, the non-scholarship students like to sit in the back. So, make sure that you always sit in the front in the classes that you share with them.” She pauses, a look of great importance crosses her face before she starts speaking again. “And whatever you do, don't mess with Them."

  "Them?" I ask.

  "Yes, Them!” she exclaims as if I’ve agreed with her rather than asked a question. Her eyes shift around the space carefully to see who is around. When she’s satisfied that there’s no one there, she continues. “They’re obviously the leaders of the Rockefellers and Rothschild clans although they’ve changed their last names for some reason."

  I try and keep my eye roll to a minimum at this comment.

  "Who are you talking about?" I ask, somewhat frustrated with the fact that the only words that have seemed to come out of my new friend’s mouth have been conspiracy theories with about a quarter of legitimate words mixed in with them.

  "I mean Them. Alexander, Dante, Nyx, and Finn," she says frustratedly as if I should already know this.

  Alexander and Dante. I had definitely noticed them. And they had definitely noticed me. I had also gotten the impression that I need to stay far away from them.

  "No problem with that," I say.

  She stops and looks at me suspiciously all of a sudden. "You know, you kind of look like them.”

  "I look like them?" I raise a brow, responding incredulously, thinking about how good-looking those boys actually were. And who can forget Professor London. He had been a “Them” for sure during his time here. I was a flea compared to them.

  "You’re kidding, right?" I laugh. The only people who’s ever told me I was beautiful were my parents.

  She keeps looking at me intently as if she’s
trying to see beneath my skin. “You’ve got that certain something that they all seem to have."

  I laugh again.

  "I can assure you that I am in no way related to the Rothschilds or the Rockefellers. If I am that is the best-kept secret on earth since my parents can barely afford to rub two nickels together, let alone control the entire world."

  She relaxes finally as if my words had done the trick. "I'm going to give you a chance. But if I see any signs of duplicity, we're not going to be friends anymore," she announces loudly, causing a group of girls to laugh at her as they pass by. Mercy doesn’t seem to notice.

  A little part of me leaps at the fact that she used the word “friends.” I really hadn’t had very many friends, if any, besides Ash.

  As quirky as this girl seems, there’s something authentic about her that tells me she may be a really good friend if I give her a chance. And I don’t see anyone else lining up to take the role. Plus, I prefer to keep my distance from the perfect students, especially after the fiasco at lunch.

  I follow Mercy down the hallway, listening as she starts to explain why 9/11 was really an inside job. This school year was definitely going to be interesting.

  We walk down the hallway. Mercy's eyes shift back and forth, as if she is looking for some kind of threat. I wonder what the world looks like from her eyes. I’m pretty positive now that we weren’t talking about the same kind of monsters when she came into the bathroom.

  She flinches as the sound of a group of boys walking towards us echoes down the hallway. She stops, and she’s just about to yank me out of the hallway and into an alcove when they come around the corner. There’s five of them, but it’s hard to even notice what the other four look like compared to him. It’s like a spotlight is shining down directly on him, shrouding the others in darkness.