Page 27 of Savage Hope

It seems I also have a name.

I don't know what's in store for me anymore, and I definitely don't know what tomorrow may bring, but there is one thing for sure that I can no longer deny.

I don't want to die.

Not when there’s a chance of survival.

No matter how small.

Polaris x

11

POLARIS

With my hands planted on the window sill, I track the movements of people outside, watching as they go about their lives while I stand here, still radiating with shock. The main academy building looms in the distance, a Gothic silhouette against the night, conveying a sense of grandeur that Florentine’s could never imagine.

After scribbling in my diary, all I’ve been able to focus on is my breathing. My mind is wild, repeatedly recounting today’s events as if I’m a character in a novel. It’s like one of the many fables that were lined up in the classroom at Florentine’s. It was a luxury for Mrs. Stephens to share a snippet of a story with us, and now here I am, experiencing my own whirlwind.

I’m not the only one, of course.

My mind wanders to S—I mean Sian. I hope she’s doing okay. B, too, I guess; he looked devastated when he was declared human. I think he’s lucky; at least we know how to be that. Well, a little, I guess.

Today has been…a lot, but I can’t bring myself to feel disappointed about it. Am I out of my element? One million percent. Am I scared of what tomorrow may bring? Absolutely.But am I out of Florentine’s grasp with a tiny seed of hope nestled in my chest? Yes.

It’s weird to acknowledge that, seeing as I’ve isolated myself in here since the moment the bedroom door closed behind me, but it still feels different. Back at Florentine’s, once the bedroom door was locked, I was left alone with the same four walls to entertain me. The window there was too high to see through, and the light that shone through the small square was always dim.

Now, it's like a whole new world. What I'm really unfamiliar with, and what I'm unsure I’ll ever be able to relax with, is the noise vibrating through the rest of the building. As if sensing my thoughts, a bang echoes as a door is slammed, and I startle, but the quick procession of giggles that follows instantly helps to ease the tension radiating through my body.

Running my tongue over my bottom lip, I turn from the window and tiptoe toward the door. Curling my hand around the door handle, I slowly pull it open. My breath lodges in my throat as the hallway comes into view. Just as gently as I opened the door, I close it, but before the latch can catch, I whip it open as fast as I can, closing it just as quickly. I can’t help but repeat the motion a few times, completely awed by the fact that my door is not locked by someone else.

I'm not trapped. I'm not a prisoner. Or maybe I am, just not in the physical sense that I was previously. The sense of freedom is present, even in the ability to just open my door whenever I please. Especially when the essence of the unknown still lingers. Outside these four walls, on the rest of the campus, I don’t know how free I am, but it’s still freer than before.

I hope. But, I’m locked in my brain, fearing a different type of prison awaits.

Another round of laughter dances through the air as I close the door, keeping it shut this time, acutely aware that there is definitely no soundproofing in this place. However, the noiseand different vibe filling the space should not keep me up at night. I hope.

Pressing my back against the door, I take a deep breath before shuffling over to the bed. The sheets are soft beneath me as I sit beside my new belongings. Like a hammer to the gut, a feeling washes over me, confirming the swirling thoughts in my mind.

I'm definitely not at Florentine’s anymore.

Looking down at my laced fingers in my lap, the noise in my head quiets as if finally accepting a slice of my new reality. If my eyes were deceiving me, the red marks pinched all over my arm would confirm that I've double-checked with myself multiple times, and I'm right here in the flesh. There’s no denying it: this is not a dream.

My stomach grumbles, reminding me that I declined to join everyone for food earlier, but I push past the gnawing. Hunger isn’t a new sensation. If anything, it’s almost comforting right now. It’s the most familiar feeling I’ve had since we woke up on that coach.

In desperate need of a distraction, I prop my pillow against the headboard and get comfortable as I reach for the manual that's been left for me. Running my fingers over the leather casing, I take a deep breath, preparing myself for what lies inside. As if the words written in ink are about to change my life any more than it already has.

Gazing over the first page, I don't know where to begin. Brushing my finger over the contents list, I scan each word with ferocity.

There are general rules, information about the house’s layout, details about classes and timetables, opening times of facilities on campus, information about weekends and school days, and details about sigil magic. There's a lot, and as muchas I'm sure there's some information that’s more important than others, I decide to start on the first page, where it’s safest.

When I flip the page over, a plastic case greets me. Nothing was listed on the previous page, which makes it feel even more daunting. Inside is a device—one I’m aware of but never had the luxury of having before.

A cell phone. A freaking cell phone.

As cool as this is, what do they expect me to do with it? I don’t have anyone to call. I don’t have anyone to update about my whereabouts.

There is no one.

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