Page 20 of The Blackened Blade

I sigh, pulling a small safety pin from my hoodie pocket and gently push it into the door's keyhole. I twist and turn the small metal pin until I hear a small click.

A grin stretches my lips as the door slowly creaks open and I make my way inside.

The moon shone through the old dorm's windows, continuing to light my way and guiding me until I reached my room.

I creep inside and flop down onto the welcoming bed, the old and worn wood creaking underneath me as my body reaches its limits for the night.

Darkness begins to take me again, this time a gentle and calming kind, and one I welcomed.

My eyes begin to close with the soft warmth surrounding me, the last words filling my head are of a familiar sweet gravelly voice calling my name.

‘Micai’.

CHAPTER6

The sound of voices and laughter pulls me from my slumber. I open my eyes, narrowing them toward the door separating my room from the corridor, where the voices persist. I roll over, my muscles screaming for me to lay still and go back to sleep. But the ache thrumming through my body is a welcome one.

It's proof of my hard work. Of the progress I’m slowly making and of the new journey in this life I’ve decided to fight for. An ache I’ll happily accept and get used to with time.

The laughter begins to slowly fade as I drag a tired hand down my face and make my way up and toward the shower. I pull the bathroom door open, and listen to the old wood screech and creak as I enter.

I hadn’t always been in this old room, but after a few‘pranks’had gone wrong, the school grew tired of the clean up and decided to move me here.

The girls dorm had undergone renovations over the summer break, updating old plumbing and modernising the rooms, making them more luxurious. But my room had been left untouched, the bathroom fixtures still their original brass, complete with rust and all. The mirror was broken at its corners and the sink held a few hairline cracks.

But I guess I could understand why my room was the only one left untouched. Over the years, my tormentors had taken it upon themselves to destroy my property; that included uniforms, my pyjamas, my school books, andmy room.

In my first year, they had stripped my room bare; no bed or furniture, just a single box placed in the centre of the room with all my shredded clothes and books.

In my second year, they covered my walls and floor with pig's blood, and left dead pigeon feathers all over my bed and bathroom. And how did I know they were dead?

Because I found their carcasses under my duvet cover and pillows.

But that wasn’t what finally prompted the school to move me here, to this dinky old space. It was only at the beginning of my third year, just a couple of months ago, where they let avasbeerinto my room.

The small magical rodent goes feral in enclosed spaces and ‘marks their territory’quite fervently. Unfortunately for me, the creature's faeces is laced with toxins, and the small amount of possessions I had, had to be thrown away.

The room also had to be completely wiped and detoxified, the process apparently taking weeks, and in the meantime I was brought here. To a room, that quite literally just last year, was being used for storage. It's also less than half the size of the other girls' rooms and filled only with second hand furniture that was scratched.

The room wasn’t really the issue. It was my possessions, or what little I had of them. A few pressed flowers kept from childhood, a couple of my favourite books brought from home and a photo of my deceased mother. It was the only one I had of her, and had been burnt during the ‘cleaning process’. The school had told me there could be no exceptions,everythinghad to be destroyed.But it was all I had of her.

I twist the old rusting shower tap, pulling myself from my thoughts as a decent enough spray of water spurts from its head. I guess I should be glad it's working and with warm water too, a luxury compared to the Facility.

I take a step under it and let the water flow down my body, taking the edge off the ache in my muscles, and washing away the sweat and dirt I didn’t have the strength to last night.

After a few minutes and some heavy scrubbing, I step out and dry off, brushing my now shorter and easier to manage strands. Then I throw on my uniform.

I look at my reflection in the mirror as I make my way out of the bathroom, enjoying the new look I’d given myself.

Grabbing my bag, I head out of my room and down to the first floor.

A gurgling sound rolls from my stomach, a new sort of ache taking over. Right, this body was used to more than just one stale meal a day.

I make my way to the back of the main building, and to where the cafeteria sits.

This building, by far, was the most modernised out of the whole academy.

It held a huge wide open room, painted in tones of white and dove-grey. There were large white and black tables and seats placed around the space, and a large marble serving stand at the top of the room. Servers in uniforms stand behind the table, dishing out fresh food and drinks.

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