Audra Farley
I was traumatized for weeks.
My plans for my future had gone down the drain and so was the little money my single mother had. My college savings were used to pay the hospital bills. Each day I spent there getting more treatment was more money we had to pay. We couldn't make enough to take care of both the baby and I so as soon as I could get on my feet, I left the hospital.
That was the worst time of my life. My mother couldn't make enough money to get me drugs for the baby, getting food to eat became difficult and my body didn't adapt well to the new changes. I would throw up at the sight of anything, I got dark circles under my eyes and had problems with sleeping at night. The baby was taking more energy than my body could provide but what more could a sixteen year old do?
I considered visiting an abortion clinic. It was just the first two months and we had no money to sustain ourselves, I couldn't make it to the ninth month with that condition. Either I or the baby would die from starvation sooner or later and to avoid the risk of losing my life, I decided to get rid of the baby. As much as I loved and wished to nurture it, I couldn't deal with the shame. I was a teenager and all my life I dreaded getting pregnant at such a young age.
My mother grew distant from me. It was then we needed each other the most but as days passed with her spending all her time at work, we barely spoke to each other for over a minute. The guilt was more than I could bare. I was the cause of everything. My senior year in high school was cancelled, my college savings were gone and all the money we had with it. Every single day, I imagined what it would be like if I had not left the house like I did that night. I would've gotten over the voices and if I didn't, at least I wouldn't be a teenage mom. The thoughts left me troubled and as each minute passed, I grew more depressed. I would sit close to the window and cry till it felt like I had nothing in me anymore.
It went on for one more month till the day I decided I'd had enough. It was a sunny Wednesday afternoon. I took off my pajamas and wore some of my mom's clothes to cover up the little bump, a scarf over my head to cover my face and sunglasses. The walk to the abortion clinic took long minutes. I met some of the people I knew on the way but none of them recognized me or knew who I was, not when I had my face all covered. I took each step with fear that someone would realize it and call out to me but till I got there, no one did.
I sat patiently at the reception to meet the doctor. Some of the nurses gave me stares to remember and even whispered things to each other but that wasn't enough, some women came in and immediately figured out my figure was too small for a grown mature women. They said a lot of things to me and all advised I go home and keep the baby. After all, it was all my fault.
None of what they said got to me. I bounced on my feet the moment I got called in and met with the doctor but that day I thought I would choose to get rid of the baby was the day I chose to keep it.
The doctor gave me an offer that changed my life.
Samara Shaw.
It seemed to me that every single thing in the school was either prohibited or would put me in trouble.
All I had done to adapt in this new environment, spending fifteen minutes in the bathroom, washing my hair with the same bar of soap I used for my skin, using tough sponge on my tender skin and a skirt that revealed my thighs were all useless cause at the end, I still got in trouble for a cheap soap and sponge. The real trouble was meant to be picking them up from the dirty tiles but with the way Ceris stared at me in terror and Lucy laughed at me, it looked like it was more than I imagined. Fear dawned on me, I was frightened of what consequence I would face.
The Academy was not like my home, I had no control here. Not that I had any in the mansion but at least I wasn't allowed to use dirty soap on my skin. The things I considered normal were wrong. My life had gone from being trapped in the walls of my home like a prisoner to being held captive in what felt like a school that was ruled by the military. All the thoughts I had about making friends for the first time and being even more free than I was at home went down the drain. Nothing here felt normal, from the weird looking people to their lifestyle.The rules were ridiculous, who would think clinliness had its own consequences?
"You're new so the consequences shouldn't be that bad" Ceris reassured while we walked down the hallway to my first class. She offered to show me my locker and walk with me while Lucy left even before we got out of the dining hall. I got my schedule from Lady Esther in the same office I saw her in the day before. She didn't spare me a single glance while she handed me the paper and oddly hissed at us to leave immediately.
My first class was English while Ceris's was Biology. Her class was far away from English class but still insisted she would walk me to mine even when the subject names were engraved on each door. Throughout the walk, she explained what I had to do to get a new bar of soap and sponge from the school. It was all in the hands of Lady Esther and that alone was the first consequence. Even though I always found the good in people and ignored their bad side, everything about the woman was bad. She had bad communication skills and always made me feel like she personally didn't like me. It was a wonder she still had her job as the receptionist.
I had to submit a letter to her during lunch break, explaining how I lost the first one. Ceris adviced I had to make it look like a mistake, saying I should make up a story about getting frightened by her appearance and sprinting out of the bathroom before I got the chance to pick them up. If not, I was going to face even worse consequences for my mistake. Then, I would go back to her at the end of my classes to get my punishment along with a new bar of soap and sponge.
"Thanks for walking me Ceris, you should leave now else you'll get punished for lateness"
"Yeah, I guess I'll leave now"
"See you at lunch"
After she left, I looked through the door into the class. They had single chairs and a table with the logo at the edge of each one of them. A long board was attached to the wall at the front with a desk next to it. The walls were also covered with the Cupid and Angel print wallpaper and a chandelier hung from the ceiling. Students were randomly in groups or pairs in the class with some staring at me while I stood at the entrance. At the edge of the class, I noticed the boy I met the day before. He was the last person I saw before I passed out and found myself in my room that morning which meant he helped me get to the girls dorm. He was in the uniform with his white hair falling across his shoulder down to his chest. He was speaking to a girl who sat right in front of his seat and had her head turned to face him. She was one for the people with weird skin, pale green skin to be precise and curly brown hair that fell down to her hips.
I found an empty seat at the further end of the class, it was close to the window and I found it just perfect for myself. It took a few seconds to make it there and once I did, I dropped my notes and textbook on the table and sat on the hard wooden chair behind it. From where I was, I saw every person on the class and also a perfect view of the front where I assumed the teacher would be.
"Hello Samara"
I was startled to see him suddenly next to me, it was the same boy I met yesterday now pulling out a chair. He sat down on the seat next to mine and placed a single note and pencil on the table. His eyes looked a bit different from when I saw it the day before. They did sparkle in sunlight but not as they did the evening we first met. Even with the obvious difference, I chose to brush it off.
"Hi, how do you know my name?"
"Word flies fast around here. I'm Vince"
"Nice to meet you Vince and thank you for yesterday. Can't really remember what happened after I passed out but you carried me back to my dorm, right?"
"Yes, you don't need to thank me. I'm just doing what anyone would to a damsel like you"
His words did not make my cheeks red. In stead, it made me feel irritated. Ever since the age of sixteen, I used to get sugar coated words from men older than me. To my mother, men like that were the perfect gentlemen and knew just how to make me feel like a woman. I was just a teenager then and my immature mind believed her foolish words. They used to make me believe every man I met with a good grammar and had a million synonyms for the word 'sweetheart' was the perfect definition of a man. When it started, my cheeks would go red and I appreciated those words more than anything in my life but now, those words meant nothing to me. In fact, it made me feel Vince was just like them.
"Great"