The Academy

Donavan sat up on the pedestal like an innocent man. He was sobered up pretty good, and even wore a dressed up suit and tie. He looked like a total joke. He made me look like a dirtbag off the streets. I wore the same jeans and sneakers I wore that night, along with my green long-sleeve jacket with a hole in one pocket. He looked at me the entire time, his eyes gentle with confidence and no sign of fear or hindered feelings. When the man asking a lot of questions finally started with the serious stuff, Donavan began to shake a bit. He made this story up pretty well. In a way, I almost wanted to believe it was true. He was so convincing that he shook my faith.

“Mr. Baxter,” the man spoke in a booming voice. “We have no evidence supporting that you were in the vehicle at the time of the incident. Where were you that evening?”

He cleared his throat. “I was at home, asleep.”

“Your stepfather can confirm this?” He turns his gaze to his stepdad and looks him in the eyes with a glare.
“Yes, sir, I watched him go to sleep when I closed his door.”

There was a pause.

“Mr. Baxter,” the man asks. “How did Mr. Knight come into possession of your Jeep?” He paced around the front of the room and held a piece of paper in one hand.

“I gave him my keys that night. He came bugging me for them in the early hours, and said that he’d break my windows if I didn’t give them to him. It was harmless comedy to him, but I didn’t want to wait to find out if it was serious or not. So I threw down my keys and went back to sleep.”

The jury fell into murmurs and began writing things down.

“It has come to our knowledge that Mr. Knight was intoxicated with an alcohol level of 0.23%. Can you concur, Mr. Baxter, that Cal was this intoxicated when you saw him arrive at your residence?”

He nods. “Yes, sir. He stumbled. He looked like he was about to pass out at any second. I was groggy from sleep. I didn’t realize it until he had left.”

“So, you gave him your keys knowing he had been drinking?” The man glared at Donavan.

“I didn’t know it when I woke up. It was all fuzzy…”

I scoffed quietly to myself. Donavan turned his face to me and I could tell he was laughing on the inside. It was all one big joke to him; one big facade he could easily fool everyone in that room with. I was livid. I wanted to get up and throw Donavan off that damn pedestal and beat him to a pulp. I imagined it; getting out of my seat, going over to him, pulling him by his throat down onto the floor. He’d pay. Oh, how he’d-

“Mr. Knight.” The judge is glaring down at me with thick brows, his face stern with anger and impatience.

I looked up from my lap. “Huh..?”

“Mr. Knight, I’ll repeat myself. I know this may be hard to hear, son. I’m afraid it isn’t looking too good for you. We’ll break until the jury has officially found a ruling for Mr. Callahan Knight. Court dismissed.”

He banged his gavel on the desk and people began to move from their seats. As everyone exited, I remained seated with my lawyer. I watched Donavan as he was escorted out by his own lawyer, and we met each others’ eyes for a moment. His eyes were filled with pity. Mine were filled with rage and hatred. He was no friend to me anymore. In fact, all I saw was his laughter inside his head; mocking me as he went from one end of the courtroom to the exit. His lawyer patted his back and he started to smile.

My lawyer tapped my arm softly. “Cal… You do know what just happened, right? You’re not doing too well, son.”

I reflected on the things I barely heard. I had been occupied on how much I hated Donavan to pay attention. I remembered everything as the silence grew. I heard my inner thoughts echo from the words of others and remembered. I remember the people on Donavan’s side of the room talking about jail time. I couldn’t think of spending time in the jailhouse, but it was a probable idea with the situation I was in. I hadn’t paid much attention in my government class, but I did know enough to conclude, unfortunately, that I would be spending a few decades behind bars. That was exactly what was concluded when the judge returned with all of the jury. When I saw everyone return, I cleared my throat and readied myself for the end of my days. That was when I saw a new face. A woman with a briefcase and a stern look on her red lipsticked face entered on my end of the room. She met the judges eyes and sat down beside me.
“So sorry that I’m late, Your Honor,” she smiles.

He gestures a finger for her to come to the stand. He and the woman whispered things to one another as the whole room of spectators waited patiently for the trial to continue. Everyone was on the edge of their seats, especially Elaine’s mother and father. I couldn’t look at them. It was too painful. I liked Elaine. She was a pretty girl with a lot of potential, and she didn’t deserve to die the way she had. It was not me who did it, but for a moment when I saw them, it really felt like I had. I looked at the judge as he dismissed the woman with the briefcase. She seated herself again and the judge continued.

“It appears there are still a few questions. Mrs. Ruth Hadley from the School of Mandatory Behavioral Education and Rehabilitation is here to ask multiple questions to Mr. Knight and his parents. Mrs. Hadley, you may proceed to the front. Mr. Knight may now take the stand.”

I was hesitant. At first I didn’t realize that meant for me to go up to the front. My lawyer nudged my shoulder and I proceeded to walk to the pedestal. I walked up two steps and sat down in a big red and brown wooden chair. I rested my hand on the Bible placed in front of me, and held up one hand. This was when I remembered services at church. The pastor would raise the book and we would all sing. Only this time nobody sang. Mrs. Hadley smiled at me and placed her briefcase down on the table in front of my lawyer. She walked slowly up to me and her heels sounded against the tile flooring. She smirks and becomes serious once she clears her throat.

“Cal,” she says, “I’m the headmistress at a very important school. I’m only here to ask a few questions about you.”

“That’s a first,” I said softly.

“Cal, do you drink often?”

I nod.

“Do you party often?”

I nod.

“Do you sometimes stay out late? Skip school?” She pulls a folder from her case and returns to the stand. “It says you’ve been sick quite a lot. You couldn’t have had the flu this many times in one month,” and she points to the file.

I sigh. “No.”

“Would you consider yourself a rebel?”

I smirk at this. “I guess.”

She thinks moment, continuing to pace around the room for a moment. Then her eyes meet my parents’. They look back at her with dread in their eyes.

“Mrs. Knight,” she says softly. “Do you see your son as… a troubled boy?”

The judge scoffs. “Mrs. Hadley, you really shouldn’t be here in the first place. What is your business here?”

She turns to the judge. “I only want to help Mr. Knight. He deserves a chance. Don’t you think, Judge Larson?”

He hesitates and she gives the judge a very evil look.

“Yes,” a small voice speaks up. “He is a troubled boy. He didn’t deserve this trial. He shouldn’t be here, ma’am… He’s only a boy.”

She walks over to my mom and kneels in front of her. Her eyes become gentle and I can see my mom start to cry, nob, and start to cry more.

“Mrs. Hadley, we are not having a secret gossip session. Please share.”

She walks to the front of the room and clears her throat. “I am the headmistress of the Academy for troubled boys and girls alike. Our Academy is the finest rehab center and school where teens can get a proper education and attend therapeutic activities to help their troubled minds become responsible citizens to society again. I can clearly tell Cal is a good person. He has just lost his way somewhere along the way. We can fix that, though. Judge Larson, may I make an offer?”

The jury looks around at each other. The judge looks at the jury and the jury looks at Mrs. Hadley. She glues her sight to the judge and he cooperates.

“You have one minute to give me another option.”

My lawyer is suddenly beside me and looks at me, smiling. He grips my arm and there’s a glimpse of hope and happiness in his gaze. “What’d I tell you, Cal? See that? This is your other way. Take it…”

I listened to the woman in front of me.

“My offer is simple. I am certain Cal, and his grieving parents, do not want their son to spend twenty years behind bars. Not to mention that there is a hefty fine involved, yes? My offer is this: in exchange for Mr. Callahan Knight’s incarceration, I will enroll him in my Academy for young adults and bring him up as a new man. Four years is all it will take. Four school years will suffice just fine. In addition, our Academy will take off forty-five percent of the fine from your dues and you will remain in financial health. We don’t want anybody to become troubled by fines at the Academy… Judge Larson, if Cal is enrolled in the Academy, he will not have to endure any violence or harassment. Don’t you find prison a bit… violent for an eighteen-year-old young man? A bit cruel…”

My mother speaks up. “Will he be safe there?”

“Only the safest and securest, ma’am. Guaranteed.”

Everyone falls silent. Elaine’s parents look at me and tears dry from their eyes. They know it wasn’t my fault. It was an accident, really. They knew well it was all a horrible, tragic accident.

The judge rises. “Mr. and Mrs. Winston, do you advice this offer to be considered?”

Elaine’s mother nods. “Yes, your honor.”

Elaine’s father nods.

My heart sank with gratitude. I could never repay them, and they knew there was no way for me to, either. Somehow, they had no doubt about me being innocent. They just knew. They just knew… I was accused of hitting and killing their only kid yet they decide that me given a second chance is a good idea. Elaine wouldn’t get a second chance. Why was it okay for me to?

“We will give Mr. and Mrs. Knight a full forty-eight hours to consider the offer. Mrs. Hadley and I will file the paperwork and write up the consideration confirmation. Until then, this court is adjourned.”

When everyone stood outside the courtroom in the lobby talking, I was escorted by a man in a suit and my lawyer out of the building. We were walking down the steps when I spotted Mr. and Mrs. Winston about to get into their car. I ran down the remaining steps and tapped her gently.

“Mrs. Winston,” I pleaded as she turned. “Why give me that offer? Why give me that chance?”

Her eyes were soft with regret and hopelessness. She sniffled away emerging tears and let the ones she couldn’t help fall down her cheeks. Her hands shook as she reached out for my hands. She held mine in hers and looked into my face with absolute pity. Then, as quickly as the expression had shown, her face flushed with absolutely no pity on me. She grinned. Through her tears, she let out a gasp of laughter. It was a short chuckle. She patted the tops of my hands as if to reassure me. However, her eyes showed flashes of devilish plot and my mind twisted into multiple fears. She genuinely surprised me.

“Where they’ll be sending you is not a blessing, Callahan,” she said grimly.
That was when she ducked down into her car and drove away. I stood on the curb standing there with my hands at my sides. I watched their car disappear down the street and I was left with the emptiest feeling ever. I suppose I shouldn’t have expected her to do anything for me out of pity or remorse. She was a cruel woman. Falsely she gave me a pinch of hope. Vanished, I was tugged by my jacket sleeve by my mother to follow them. I looked once more down the road in search of them, but it was no use and they had gone home. It was time for me to, as well. It might be the last time I see my house. My mother told the lawyer to keep Donavan away from the house, which I didn’t mind at all; if I saw him I was afraid I would kill him. My mother knew me well.

I hadn’t noticed my home in the same way that I had before. It felt like we were moving in for the first time when our car parked in the driveway. I’d stared at it for what felt like eternity, and when I got out of the back seat I felt new. New perspectives and thoughts raced in my mind. We went inside. My lawyer had followed us, bringing the paperwork from court to us. On the top page inside the envelope was the letterhead of a very pristine school. Any school with a nice letterhead like that was either a college university or some private rich kid’s place. This was a private school I was told. It was a place for “troubled” kids like myself. I didn’t want to believe it, but there was no denying that I was one of them. I couldn’t disagree. My mother knew the folder of paperwork would still be sitting on the kitchen table when morning came, but she sighed with frustration and went upstairs to bed anyway. Avoiding things was usually how she handled things. My father, however, was a head-on kind of man. He sat up with me when my mom went to sleep. We sat downstairs with blank expressions on our faces. It was quiet, and intense, between us for the majority of the night. It felt relentless. Time passed in silence and he finally sighed. Even if he didn’t want to sit with me, he didn’t quit on me and avoid it. He looked at me and filled himself with hope.

“Cal, I know you didn’t mean to kill Elaine…” He was quiet a moment. “You didn’t know what you were doing. It’s okay to make mistakes. It’s okay…”

“No,” I said.

“Cal…”

I sighed forcefully. “None of this is okay, Dad. I was framed! Donavan was with me in the car, and Donavan was the one who hit her, not me. He was there when she died, but he fled the scene. I watched him go, Dad. I’ve been screwed over.”

“Cal… Please. You can’t point fingers here. It’s all said and done.”

I gritted my teeth hard. “You don’t believe me…”
“Yes, I do, Cal. I do believe you! I know you would never get that stupid. Ever. You’re cautious, and I have reason - other than you being my son - to believe you did not kill that girl. Not even if it was an accident do I believe you did it.”

My eyes met the table, trying to think of something else to say. It felt like my throat was sealing up inside my neck. It ached to scream out but it was no use. I wanted to. I wanted to yell! But I couldn’t do it. My eyes filled with burning tears as my dad continued to speak. He laid his hands against his forehead and breathed in deeply.

“…but it’s all over now. You just have to accept what you’re given now, son. Do you remember five years ago? When I got”-

“…pulled over for drunk driving.”

“That’s right.”

“Dad, this is different.”

He sighs and eyeballs me. “I wasn’t drunk, Cal. I had one drink that night. I got tossed into a problem either way. It’s a messed up world we’re living in, kiddo… We just have to take what we can get. That is why I think you should go to this Academy they offered to us. That’s our second chance for you. Do you know what it’s like to go to jail? It’s disgusting and filthy. The guards don’t care if you rot in those cells. No one cares if you’re dying from someone shivving you in the showers; you’ll bleed to death before someone helps you. In jail, Cal, it’s a whole different place. Your mother isn’t handling that possibility well. We can’t let you go there. Never in a million years would we imagine sending our baby to a jailhouse.”

He paused. His words fell like an avalanche and then there was sudden silence from him. My cheeks were stained with drying tears and I could feel snot dripping from one of my nostrils. He looked in my eyes and reached across the table to touch my shoulder softly. Shaking me gently, he wiped away his tear that had fallen from his eye. He stood and walked over to the fridge, grabbing a can of soda and handing it to me.

“You should just… enjoy the little things.”

I realized then that my parents wouldn’t let me go to jail for however many years. I couldn’t help but think the Academy was far better of an option; four years in a private school versus seventeen to twenty something years in jail. I thought about jail that night. I went up to my room when my dad went to bed with my mom. He had said goodnight, patting me on the shoulder reassuringly. I sat down on my bed and drank my soda. It soothed the ache and harsh feeling in my throat. I set it aside to lay down when I heard the loud rain beginning on the window. I listened closely to the sounds of splashing puddles as droplets fell from the gutter into the yard. It was time to sleep, but something in my head was just screaming, “Don’t go to bed yet. Don’t waste any time.”

I soon felt my eyes close and I couldn’t help the feeling after gravity locked them shut. It felt like a door closing on me in a dark, black room. I imagined that was how death would feel if I got killed in jail; slow, inevitable, and black. I’d see black for the rest of the days to follow it. I’d see nothing but the inside of my eyelids; if my eyeballs were still in my head, that is. I’d just lay to rot. What would I have accomplished at eighteen? I’d have been a troubled kid who was convicted of murdering a girl. I didn’t want to sleep, needless to say. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to die in jail, but I think that was something I later regretted thinking.

I slept through the entire next day. I was so tired and my eyes had felt too heavy to wake up. That next morning, I woke with the worst headache I’d ever felt. It was a throbbing pain all around my entire head, like I’d gotten it smashed around in a blender. “Mom?”

I heard her footsteps as she entered. “Hey, sleepy head. Want to come down to eat? They lawyer’s here to collect the paperwork.”

My feet met the cold wooden floor and I stood up. Inching my way down the stairs, I heard the lawyer and my father talking over the sound of coffee cups clanking in the sink. I entered the kitchen to see them sitting with their mugs in hand. My mother grabbed her own cup of coffee and joined the men at her own seat. It felt like I was standing in the courtroom again. All I could feel were their eyes on me; all of their eyes just staring down on me like an experiment. I sat beside my mom and listened intently as they continued to talk over their coffee. My lawyer had gone over the entire folder of paperwork with them already before I woke up. I watched them sign the forms in multiple places on every page before giving me the black pen.

“Just sign in the blanks where your parents haven’t, okay? Then we can put all of this to rest. How’s that sound?”

My hand trembled as I took the pen into my hand. It felt like I had forgotten how to write, how to write in cursive, and how to spell my name. I couldn’t focus. My head spun like crazy and I placed my head in my left hand, propping my elbow onto the table. I breathed slow. I took multiple deep breaths before it was time to get it over with. I pressed the pen against the papers and signed my name in all of the lines within paragraphs. When it was all over with, I sat back in my seat and watched him put all the forms back into the folder neatly. He smiled at us politely and stood, shaking my parents’ hands. Then that was done. It all was. My entire teenage life was done. I felt a pit in my stomach as my mom placed toast and eggs in front of me. I grew pale at the sight of food, and ran into the bathroom to hurl vomit into the toilet. I knelt down, feeling like my palms were sweating. I felt my stomach turn and twist inside me. It wasn’t panic, but it sure felt like something bigger than it. My mother brushed back my hair with her fingers and held my shoulders as I let out aching wails of chokes from my throat.

“It’s going to be okay, honey,” she whispered kissing my forehead. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. It’s all going to be fine.”

When I finally got the courage to stand up and go into my room, I walked into a room filled with suitcases on my bed and folded up clothes. Two black suitcases laid open with nothing in them. My mom joined me in the quiet and started to hand me some shirts from my closet. I looked through them. She pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket and opened it up. It was a long list of things I could and couldn’t bring to the Academy. I took it from her hands and read them silently to myself. There were the obvious writings like the consequences of bringing knives, alcohol, cigarettes, or other substances. There was then a list of clothing requirements. My mom looked over the shirts I had put into my bag and took one out. It was one of my favorite movie monster shirts with some curse words on it. I figured it was somewhere on the list, so I let her take it.

“I know this is going to be a little difficult the first few weeks, honey,” she said, “but it’s all going to get a lot easier.”

She flashed me a small smile and then returned to picking out the clothes I couldn’t take with me. This left me with solid colored shirts, some shirts with designs, and a lot of pairs of jeans. One pair of dress pants got thrown in, too, because apparently there are formal dress code days for assemblies or meetings. I didn’t get it, but, if it was required, my mom wouldn’t let me hear the end of it until I agreed with her. She stuffed some socks and boxer shorts into the case, too, and then zipped the one closed. I felt a little bit of sadness. It felt like I was leaving for good. I stood there a moment staring down at the floor. That was when I heard footsteps behind me. My father wandered in and looked at the other empty suitcase. He brought a family photo in and set it in my hands.

“I thought you’d maybe want to put this in your room. I’m sure it’s allowed.” He smiled and looked at he photo in my hands.

It was our smiling faces, framed forever and eternally by an actual happy day. It was at my seventh birthday. My parents hadn’t aged at all in that time, and resembled the way they looked now. They had their faces close to mine and my mother held me from behind with her hands held in front of me. She leaned in to look at it.

“Ah, I remember that one. You were so cute,” she laughed.

I smiled a little and then let the photo fall from my hand into the briefcase on top of my clothes, rezoning it up. There wasn’t much time left for me to pack, so the other suitcase was left. My dad took it downstairs to the front door and I took a look around my bedroom one last time before going downstairs. My smile had faded the moment I realized I was no longer that kid. I was no longer my mom’s world, my dad’s pal, or the cute kid in that photograph. I was different. I wasn’t who they saw anymore. In that moment, everything felt like a big mistake. Everything I did in the years prior was a mistake. If I only did the right things; went to school, took care of my mom, been there for my dad when he went to jail, visited my grandmother every once in awhile. I took my mom’s hand and turned her to face me in the hallway.

“Mom,” I said softly. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Her reddened face was overcome by sadness and her eyes dripped tears of regret. She took my hands in hers and rubbed the tops of them with her thumbs. She forced a pitiful smile and looked in my face. She took me into her arms, and I knelt a little to meet her eye level. In her embrace, I felt the only comfort I had in the past few days. In general, she was the only comfort I had ever had, really. I waited a moment before pulling away, and I heard the sound of a car door shutting outside.

My attention turned from my mom and I wandered over to the window. Outside was a black, lengthy car with shining headlights and a man in a black suit driving at the wheel. Out stepped a man in a police uniform and a woman on the other side. He was ridged in the face with a strong exterior and bristly facial hair under his stern expression of a smile. His sunglasses were jet black, showing no eyes through the other side of the lenses. The woman, however, looked angelic with a very slim figure and gentle steps. Her heels were red and matched her cherry lips like a color-code was mandatory. Her lips were delicate with her smile as she came close to the door, and their juxtaposition to each other made me uncomfortable. He was a demon, and she was the light to his darkness. It seemed like her black and red thigh-length dress would hide something darker later on. Her innocence was pinched by a little tinge of his devilish charisma, and they both appeared devilish together in some moments.

They knocked at the door twice, and my mom opened it courteously for them. As they entered, they gazed around our house like inspectors, and then their eyes slowly drew nearer to me. Their eyes met mine and I didn’t know whose to look at first. I couldn’t even see the cop’s eyes, so I immediately looked at the woman’s first. They were deep green. They stood out in comparison to her brown curls tightly pulled back into a neat bun. Her ears were not pierced, but they were beautiful enough on their own; her whole face was absolutely flawless. She smiled and outstretched her hand to me slowly.

“Why, you must be Callahan,” she says. “Or should I call you Cal?”

My dad smiles at her and gestures his own hand out after I don’t shake hers. My mom gives me a glare. I didn’t have any intentions of being friendly with these people. Honestly, they creeped me out. They were nice and all, but there was something about them that was just too formal. I hadn’t noticed the way they looked in the courtroom of people, but now that I was close to them I could see. It was the woman with the briefcase. The same lipstick she wore was caked over her lips. I hadn’t realized.

“I am the Headmaster at the School Of Mandatory Behavioral Education and Rehabilitation. I am only allowed to be called Headmaster when addressed; it’s to keep anyone from contacting me privately.” She gestures to her policeman. “This is Officer Caughenour, my personal guard and lead security man at the school. He’s here to make sure we arrive there swimmingly. We don’t want to have to handcuff you, do we, Cal?”

I shook my head slowly. “No,” I said shyly. “No, ma’am.”

“Good. Is this everything?”

I looked at the floor where my suitcase sat. Caughenour picked it up and took it out to the car, placing it in the trunk gently before returning. While he was out, the Headmaster had given my parents a paper with the information on it with my schedule and orderly activities. When the officer returned, we all exited the house and I followed everyone behind. I listened as their voices traveled off a little in the distance to the car, while I stood back and looked up at the house I once stayed in. I didn’t want to think about being away for four years, but how could I not? I’d be away from my home; my solitary confines of my room; the safeness of my normal life.

“Cal,” I heard my mom call out. “Come on, dear.”

I took one last glance up at my bedroom window and remembered that night I snuck out of it. I remembered sneaking in girlfriends and looking out the same window late nights when I was bored. I didn’t want to leave. However, my mind had drawn my body away from the porch and down the yard to the black car. We all got in and a man up front pulled the car away from the curb. The car lurked forward and I felt my stomach turning inside me. I felt queazy and uncomfortable. My parents sat with across from me, and the woman and her officer sat opposite each other on the left and right sides of the car. It wasn’t a limousine but it might as well have been. It felt like a fancy, rich kid’s car; the kind he would be dropped off to school in by his personal driver. I didn’t like it very much.

“We were very happy to hear you agreed to our stay, Cal,” Headmaster said encouragingly. “We knew from the start you were innocent of the crime. However, we can’t deny that you’re not troubled. After all, getting into drugs and alcohol is a very criminal beginning. Your mother’s broken heart has to find some way to heal, right, Cal?”

I looked at my mom’s expressionless face and then to my dad’s. He was just as expressionless and vague. They didn’t know what to say. Neither did I. It was unfair to make me feel guilty for just being who I wanted. I wanted to do things me way; have fun my way and be a human being my way. Why would it break her heart that I was having fun?

“Kid, this place will be good for you,” Caughenour said with a chuckle. He put a piece of mint gum in between his teeth and started chewing it quietly. He sat back in his seat comfortably while the Headmaster gazed at me in astonishment at my discomfort.

We drove for what felt like hours. It took us awhile to realize where we were. I looked out the window almost the entire way out of the city. The roads got lonelier and the sky became grey. My hands felt cold and clammy. I didn’t like that it was so far away. Everything was becoming more full of greenery and empty space. Hay fields of cows and horses went past as we drove and the entire time, I was wondering where in the hell we were being taken. My parents conversed amongst themselves and the Headmaster was telling them everything there was to expect from the school. I didn’t want to listen, but her voice was too loud in the car that I couldn’t shut it out. She liked to hear herself talk, I gathered. She went on and on about the campus, how everything was very nice and tidy, every corner was joyous with the faces of other pupils, etcetera, etcetera. I hated to hear it. I should’ve been grateful to be going there to begin with, but somehow I was feeling like they were driving me away from every good thing about my life; into a darker, deeper world of nothingness. I would have happily chosen to be one of the hay bails on the side of the road instead. Some things just aren’t that simple.

We finally saw a building when we got off the main roads. It was wilderness for miles and I could see deer and wildlife through the lopsided, naked branches of trees and bushes. Moss-covered rocks lay at the roadside and I watched the only good part of the drive pass me by the fastest. Then there was a black, turnpike gate that was higher than our house. It was insane to think this was the gate to a luxurious school that the Headmaster had talked her teeth off about. A man at the gate peered into the driver side window and nodded to the driver as he opened the gate. It creeped open slowly with a quiet squealing sound, then stopped when it had swung open entirely. The car lurked forward slowly and we were entering something incredibly different. It was a cobblestoned street like a really old and boring town from way-back-when. It creeped me out, but there was something charming about it that my parents liked. How quaint, they put it. How lovely.

How stupid, I thought. What was even creepier to me was the entire building laid out ahead of us. It was a giant building, like a hotel in size, and was tall for what looked like four or five stories in height. The center of the building was topped with a large triangular roof; like something a gothic church would have. As if that wasn’t creepy enough, they had a bell inside the roof. Whatever it was for was beyond me. I guess it was just for show. The Headmaster and Caughenour looked at each other with a smile before the car stopped. They got out and the driver opened our doors. My parents got out and looked up at the ginormous building in amazement. I stood with my back against the car door as they all looked.

“This, Mr. and Mrs. Knight, is our fine academy,” she announced.

I glanced up here and there to meet the eyes of Caughenour, but he was well already gazing at me from the other side of the car. I didn’t meet his gaze after that; knowing he was already watching me like a hawk. I wondered about this place. It didn’t seem right to me at all. My parents were all for it, though. It was sickening how in love with this place they had become in just one second. They talked more while I pretended not to be listening, picking at the zipper on my jacket with my fingers. The only time I was spoken to was when things were becoming final. The Headmaster looked over at me and told me I had to come with them. Alone.