HOPE
"Hey, Are you Hope Kendrick? The one without a dom? "
I glance up at the voice and find a girl standing there, arms crossed and a gentle smirk tugging at one corner of her mouth. Her braids are tucked into a beautiful ponytail with a scrunchie, and she's got the kind of confident posture that screams she came from a wealthy family.
"I'm Kelly by the way. Your roomie. I hope we get along"
I search for a plausible explanation as to why she suddenly untucks her hair and lets it flow over her shoulder while moving her head left to right like she's shooting a vague model picture.
To impress or intimidate me? Either way, she didn't succeed.
I shrug my shoulders and take a deep, long breath before walking away from her.
"I see you're not the type to exchange greetings," she follows me immediately.
"Thank you for your sharp wit. Now can you lead the way?"
"We can't go to the hostel now. Although I've been handed your box and other things since yesterday, we have to take breakfast and head to class. Unless you have some extra thousand dollars to pay for points."
I stop and turn, squinting at her like she just spoke a foreign language. Obviously, she did. "I have to pay what… for skipping breakfast?"
Kelly laughs lightly, tossing her hair over her shoulder again like it's part of some rehearsed routine. "You obviously missed the orientation as well. There's something called the Point System. Everything here costs or earns you points—attendance, hygiene, meals, sleep hours, social interaction. And your super hero slills. If you fall below the average, they fine you. Or worse, make you wear that ridiculous yellow warning shirt that alerts everyone that you're a lazy student and a loser. Or you can pay a thousand dollars to renew your points."
"So I can get penalized for not being social?"
She grins. "Technically, yes. Social points are monitored too. But don't worry, I'm generous with fake smiles. I won't let them notice you're snubbing me."
I roll my eyes. "Ughh... my social skills are literally zeroo."
"Then perhaps your account balance has more zeros than your social skills," she chuckles, and I feel she just mocked me.
We step into the dining hall—or as the golden plaque above the double doors reads: The Refectory. It can't just be called a cafeteria like normal people would.
I step inside, scanning the place like a hawk. What really stands out are the tables. Two long rows of polished mahogany, stretching end to end like some medieval banquet hall. They gleam under the soft lighting, intimidating enough to make you think twice before plopping down anywhere.
I make a move toward an empty seat at the royal table, but Kelly grabs my elbow like I've just committed a crime. "No, no, no," she hisses under her breath, steering me away. "You can't just sit anywhere."
"Why not? It's a seat, and it's empty."
She glares at me then drags my hand off the sit.
"There's a hierarchy here, Hope. Each table has a social tier. The normal looking sits are for people like us —lone wolves, humans, and the socially bankrupt scholarship students."
I chukcle in disbelief.
"Can I have my room key?" I ask, suddenly losing my appetite for anything. It's annoying and disgusting that such a huge academy is still acting like high schoolers.
"I don't advise you skip breakfast on Monday ..."
"Give me the fucking keys, Kelly, and either direct me to the dorm or take me there yourself. "
Kelly's eyes narrow, clearly annoyed but she's trying to keep it cool.
"Look, Hope, you can do whatever you want, but if you sit there," she points at one of the mahogany tables I intend to sit on, "you'll be marked. You don't want to be bullied by these people, I promise you."
This is fucking insane. I don't care about some invisible rules set by a bunch of self-absorbed jerks.
Without waiting for her to finish, I head straight for the table Kelly pointed at.
I slide into the chair, not giving a damn about the stares or the judgment weighing down on me by the others. . I pick up a plate and start dishing my own portion.
"Well, well, Hope. Didn't expect to see you here." The familiar voice stipenme just as I'm about to dig in.
I look up. Vanessa is leaning against the table, that same wicked grin she always wore in high school twisting her lips.
"Still don't learn your place, huh? Thought I made it clear back then."
I meet her glare without flinching. "Maybe you did. Problem is, I'm not the same scared kid anymore."
She laughs in a sharp and mocking manner. "Scared? No, you were just weak. This place will break you faster than I ever could."
She suddenly grabs a glass of water from the table and without warning pours it all over my head.
The cold splash jolts me, and my body freezes for a heartbeat.
Well today is not a good day to piss me off, I take a bigger cup and start filling it with water, my fists clenched so tight that the glass could break in my grip, ready to sna—
But before I can finish up, the sharp clang of the bell brings confusion to me.
People start shuffling and murmuring, quickly gathering their things and rushing out.
Vanessa steps back, a victorious gleam in her eyes as she melts into the crowd.
That was close. Thankfully there's right and freedom of murder here, she'd probably be my second victim..
I storm into the bathroom, still fuming, water dripping down my face. I grab a napkin from the dispenser, wiping at my hair and skin, but the cold stickiness clings stubbornly.
One of the mirrors catches my eye. It's shattered, glass splintered across the sink and floor. I pause, curiosity pulling me closer despite the anger boiling inside.
I step in front of the sinks and glance up at my reflection in the intact, ornately framed mirror beside the broken one.
My reflection became a wild, pitch-black hair and sun-kissed skin, high cheekbones, full lips, a silver ring glinting on my nose.
I shake my head, trying to focus. And know if I was hallucinating because that's definitely not me.
I stagger as the head shake simultaneously with mine, something even more weird happens— my eyes in the mirror start to change. The whites fade into pure black, swallowing the color from my irises until I'm staring at a pair of dark, empty holes where my eyes should be.
My heart thuds hard as the reflection steps closer, tears running down its face, a strange voice echoing in my head..
"I know you can hear me."
I stumble back, trembling, telling myself it's just my mind playing tricks. But it feels too real.
Suddenly, the mirror cracks again, like someone's hands are pushing from behind the glass, trying to break free.
I scream, sliding backward, my hands scraping against shards of glass scattered on the floor as a bloody hand pulls my leg.