s that letter even real? How did it end up in my room? But if it wasn't real, then why are there so many people here?
"Did you also receive a letter?" I asked the girl I had been talking to earlier. I couldn't help my curiosity about it. Besides, I had nothing to lose if I found out.
I noticed she froze at my question. She didn't answer. Instead, she rummaged through her bag and pulled out a piece of paper, then faced me.
"Is this the kind of letter you're talking about?" she asked. It looked exactly like the one I had received. I stared at her, puzzled, while trying to read her thoughts.
"Everyone here received the same letter. And I assure you—it's real. It's not a prank. Only chosen people get this letter, people like us," she explained before I could finish reading her mind. I can only read thoughts when I look directly into someone's eyes.
There shouldn't be anything wrong with joining them, right? I have nowhere else to go anyway. I just hope I won't regret this decision.
I sighed and waited to see what would happen next. Soon, names were being called one by one, and people entered through a door glowing with light. Only two of us were left when her name was finally called.
Nervousness crept up on me—what if I wasn't meant to be here? Just as the woman calling names was about to leave, she noticed me and walked over with a look of confusion.
"What's your name, dear? And what are you doing here?" she asked. She didn't look old—maybe in her early thirties. She was beautiful, with fair skin and delicate features.
What should I say? Should I admit that I received a letter too? Ah, whatever.
"I'm Yhessa. I'm here because… I also received a letter," I answered shyly, bowing my head. I felt embarrassed—what if mine was a fake?
She stayed silent for a few moments, flipping through the papers she carried. Then she stopped at one page and looked at me.
"Is your full name Yhessa Sawyer?" she asked. I stared at her, shocked. How did she know my full name when I only gave my first name?
I simply nodded. I wanted to ask, but I held back—better not to sound nosy.
"Hmm. Let's go," she said at last, walking toward the glowing door.
Huh? Wait—what does she mean by let's go? Am I… included?
I didn't follow right away, unsure if she meant me. But when she noticed, she stopped and glanced back, puzzled.
"Come on. They're waiting for us," she said again before walking on.
So I was included. Thank goodness—if not, that would've been a huge problem. With no other choice, I followed her through the door.
And my jaw nearly dropped. Seriously—what kind of school is this? The gate shimmered with countless lights, like fireflies dancing around it. Beyond the gate stood a massive palace-like building, glowing just as brightly. The campus stretched wide, with several other buildings scattered across the field.
We lined up as instructed earlier. At the entrance, three people were waiting, asking questions.
When my turn came, I approached a stern-looking woman. Out of habit, I peeked into her thoughts and realized she was mentally describing me. I stopped reading right away, not wanting to pry further.
"Name and age," she demanded curtly, her tone sharp. Definitely the strict type.
"Yhessa Sawyer, 18," I answered with a straight face but still respectful.
Without another word, she handed me a slip of paper and a key. She explained that I'd need to show the paper tomorrow—because classes start immediately—and that the dorm, food, and uniforms were all free.
Tomorrow? Already? I wasn't prepared at all. And I didn't even know my way around this place. Still, I had no choice but to head to the dorm, following the map she gave me.
I didn't bring a single piece of clothing with me. Then again, I noticed no one else had luggage either. Shrugging, I continued until I found Room 45. Unlocking the door, I stepped inside—only to be greeted by a girl.
She was stunning—fair skin, straight black hair, long lashes, sharp nose, and rosy lips. In short, breathtaking. I kept my usual poker face as I looked at her.
"Hi! Are you Yhessa, my new roommate?" she asked excitedly. I nodded. My eyes scanned the pristine, white-painted room.
"Really?" she asked again, her eyes sparkling like a child's. I nodded once more, making her grin even wider. She was obviously childish, judging by her manner.
"I'm Leigh, 18 years old," she introduced herself with a bright smile, offering her hand.
"Yhessa. You can call me Yssa. 18," I replied flatly but shook her hand. She pulled me toward a bed near the wardrobe, where three sets of uniforms were neatly folded.
They were beautiful—nothing like my old school's uniform. Blue stripes with black accents, long-sleeved tops, and matching trousers. On the chest was the school's logo, and below it… my surname.
"This is your bed and your uniform. That wardrobe is yours too," Leigh explained cheerfully.
I hesitated before asking, "Uhm… I don't have any clothes."
Her eyes lit up even more as she clapped her hands and bounced. "Perfect! That means we'll go shopping! We'll also buy shoes. Come on!" she exclaimed, tugging me out of the room.
I let her drag me along, still bewildered by this strange school where food, uniforms, and even dorms were free.
At the mall, she chattered nonstop while I quietly chose my things—two plain black hoodies, two sweaters (brown and blue), two baggy pants (black and gray), one trouser, and one wide-leg pant. I preferred dark colors—they don't draw too much attention. For tops, I picked one white shirt with black lining and four black shirts with different prints.
For shoes, Leigh got pink heels and boots, while I settled for simple black Converse and high-cut shoes.
"Yssa, wait here on the bench, okay? I'll just buy ice cream at the supermarket. I'll leave our shopping bags here. Byeee!" she chirped before running off.
I sat on the bench, gazing at the crowd. Students laughed and joked with their friends as they headed toward the cafeteria. My stomach growled—it was lunchtime.
But wait… when we entered that glowing door, it was still 10 p.m. outside. How could it already be noon here?
I sighed deeply, wondering if I made the right choice coming here. Watching the students' happy faces, I thought—maybe I just need time to adjust. Maybe this is where I'll finally start a new beginning.