Chapter 2: Alice

Shannon's POV

I hit the off button of my alarm clock when it started beeping, then I faced the mirror again and carried on with what I'm doing. I woke up earlier than usual because I have a lot of school work to do and being late won't help me.

I brush my long red hair as I stare at my own reflection on the mirror. I softly caress the scar on my left arm, it is proof that the life I have right now is a second chance. I covered it with a concealer before putting on my uniform.

Our uniform is a combination of gold and black. The uniform for us girls is a fitted v-neck blouse with a baby sleeve and golden ruffles on the neck paired with a black and gold plaid skirt, while the uniform for the boys is a gold button down long sleeves paired with a black coat and slacks with a gold line on the sides.

I grabbed my stuff before leaving my room and closing the door behind me. Our dorm is a simple arched cabin painted with blue and white. It consists of two rooms, a bathroom for each room, a small kitchen and a small living room. I'd rather live in a house like this than to live in those big penthouses in those huge buildings that those filthy-rich people owned.

I immediately ran when I saw that the bus would leave in about two minutes. "Ugh! Why did I have to take this course!" I hiss under my breath as I carry the heavy art materials in both hands.

"WAIT!" I shout in panic as I see the doors closing but luckily, a thick book suddenly blocks the door sensors causing it to open again. I slightly smile as a token of gratitude towards the guy who's also wearing our school uniform. He just nods at me and fixes his thick rimmed glasses before continuing to read his book.

I heave a sigh of relief as I sit comfortably on an available seat.

"Next stop, Huxley University."

I gathered my things before getting off the bus with the other students.

Huxley University is one of the most prestigious educational institutions in the world. The grandeur and splendor architectural design of the buildings embodies sophistication and opulence. It has a hexagonal shape with huge buildings and extended hallways on each side, each building is a forty storeys tall that is made of laminated self-cleaning prism glasses which use ultraviolet and hydrophilic methods to catalyse dirt and grime. The school is well known around the world not just because of its extravagant appearance, but also because of its revolutionary technologies, advanced features, and how the students and teachers pioneered a number of innovative teachings.

I ran in the long hallway of Polaris towards the Apollo building where my first class is. I was beyond thankful when I saw that the class has not yet started and there's still a lot of good spots left. I decided to sit at the far end of the classroom. There are a lot of elites in this school so I also have some elite and erile classmates in this subject. It's such a bummer that Milly doesn't take this class.

I just brought out my stuff and continued sketching the design of my house for our project. I should really arrange my priorities.

Only a few students stood up, including me, when the professor arrived. He motions us to sit down, and we did. "Good morning, class. So, our topic for today is about revolutionary arts. Do any of you have an idea what is a revolutionary art? Anyone?"

Silence envelopes the room until one of my classmates, a commoner, raises her hand.

"Yes, miss?"

"It is a timeless kind of art, sir. It is a genuine art made out of crude ideas and emotional ventures that the artist transpired herself in with courage. It is one of the most beautiful types of art for me, sir."

A loud and obtrusive laugh resonates around the classroom.

"Yes, Miss Sadashi? Is there something in here that you find funny?"

She wipes her teary eyes and fans herself as she tries to stifle a laugh. "It's just that, there's nothing beautiful in that kind of art."

"And how can you say that?"

"The reason is pretty obvious. Revolutionary? Isn't that a treacherous act? Why would you use art as a medium for treason?"

"How can you say that it is a treacherous act? Can you enlighten us, please?"

I stopped what I'm doing and focused on the discussion that is happening in front of me. The commoner is still standing with her head down, jaws clenched, and her fists balled in anger. Meanwhile, the elite girl remains seated and eyeing the nails on her hands like it was the most precious thing in the world.

"I believe that those who fancy such art are a low class type of person. They are those who do nothing but protest against the leaders of the country instead of being thankful to them. They said that they are fighting for freedom when in fact, they're really free. Courageous? More like a coward to me. There's nothing courageous in hiding behind your artwork and letting it speak for yourself."

I bite my lip in vexation and shut my eyes as I felt the ire rising inside me. I was peeved at what she said so I spoke up. "Low class type of person? Aren't the one who's contented in being another person's puppet is the one who's low class? Be thankful? Tell me, should we thank them for stealing our money? Or should we be grateful because they deprived us of our rights?"

"Deprived you of your rights? They are not depriving you of anything."

"Really? Then why are the ordinary people outside these sectors called peasants and paupers? Why can't they be here and socialize with others? Is that what freedom looks to you?"

"It's not the fault of the country that they are poor and living in the slums. They chose their lives to be that way. Just because they're poor, it won't justify their treacherous act against the country. And now they're dragging art into their foolishness, unbelievable!"

I mockingly laughed when I heard her remarks. "You clearly have no idea what you're saying, do you? There's nothing treacherous in fighting for your rights, and a privileged kid like you won't know the struggle. Coward? Aren't you also a coward? You chose to obey the law despite the fact that you also have restrictions. You chose to hide behind your parents and turn a blind eye on what's really happening. Dragging art? Do you even know what art means? Art is about how one person expresses their emotions, it's a platform of diversities and there is nothing wrong in using it to convey a message to the people. Are you sure this is the right course for you? 'Cause I can clearly see that you lack in many aspects."

I saw how her face turned red. She was supposed to answer but the sound of the bell cut her off.

"Okay, that's all for today. See you next meeting."

The students dispersed one by one but the both of us were left standing there, glaring aggressively at each other.

I decided to avert my eyes and fix my things. "You should be careful. You don't know who you're dealing with." She warns as she leaves the room.

I'm not really scared. I have nothing to lose. After that day, I chose to fight even though my life is on the line. I gathered my things and left the room.

After carrying my big portfolio case from Apollo building to Pan building where my next class was located, I stretched out my arms and craned my neck sideways in an attempt to release the tension in my muscles. It is not a good idea to have multiple classes in different buildings, especially if you are holding a lot of art tools and materials.

"Ah..." I sigh, looking at the hallway I still need to cross and the stairs I need to climb up before reaching my destination. It will be much more of a hassle for me if I used the elevator since it's at the far end of the hallway.

"Need help? I'll carry the wire for you," Denzel offers when we bumped at each other in front of the building.

I smiled and stared at him for a while. How can he still look so fresh? While here I am, looking so stressed and haggard because of our ceaseless projects and assignments. If only I finished my tasks first before drawing my new content update, then maybe I wouldn't be as tired as hell like now.

"Thank you! My baby is getting heavier now!" I say, pertaining to my precious artworks inside the portfolio case that I'm holding. Why do we even need to bring our portfolio case everyday?

Denzel, as gentlemanly as he is, also gets the paper bag from my hold and carries it. Finally. My aching arms can now experience a bit of relief, thanks to his help.

"Are you done now with your house?" I ask him while we are making our way to our classroom. There are still a few more students in the hallway trying to do their assignments, cramming just like me. Our room is located on the second floor of this building, it is our design class for 3D subjects.

"Not yet. I feel like the second floor lacks design."

We were tasked to create our own 3D tiny house with the use of cardboard and wire as our first project this semester. Last week, we started our draft in photoshop and created our mood board. I'm not really good with photoshop, that is why I lagged behind my other classmates who are now in the verge of completing the project.

"But your house is already so pretty." It's true, I saw his design yesterday and thought he's already done because his project looks complete already. I guess he really is a perfectionist.

Upon entering the room, I saw Milly starting to design her house. She chose to stick with a simple design, she said it is less of a hassle and cheap. Makes me question why I confidently designed an almost mansion-like modern house and did not settle with a simple one. I let out a sigh, I can't believe I'm making this hard for myself.

"Hey, Rei! Do you already have a concept for your icon?" Milly asks when she noticed my presence. She's asking me about our assignment in another subject we have that is due next month.

I set up my things on my table and tied up my hair in a bun. "Hmm, I'm still thinking if I'll go with constellations or nature," I answered as I cut out a part of the illustration board to make it as a division between rooms 1 and 2 on my second floor. I already marked the cardboards at home so all I need to do now is to cut, paste, and assemble it here.

"I'll go with fruits. Choose a natural concept as well, so we'll have somewhat of a related concept," she suggests.

After our small talk, silence envelopes us as we focus on our own works. I only have five days to finish this, so I have to avoid wasting time.

I should have prioritized my school tasks more than my blog, but I can't really blame myself for choosing my protest art over my academic related projects. The rage that I have is so strong, it makes me even more passionate in creating art that speaks volume and has a powerful message.

"Have you seen last night's update of Through the Looking Glass?"

My arms hung in the air after overhearing the conversation of Janella and Freya, two of my classmates. When I recovered, I continued on doing my project while still attentively listening in on their conversation.

"Yes, I saw it. You know what? Last night's illustration is somewhat familiar to me. Is it just me or is it related to the scene from Juno Cafe?" Freya says.

I grabbed the glue gun and started designing the second floor. I chose black and grey as the main motif of its interior with accents of white and brown to complement it. I think working with these colours will make it easier in making the design cohesive and minimalistic in nature.

"What? Why? I don't know what happened in Juno Cafe the other day." Janella confusingly asks.

"Well, there were these three elites who caused a scene. It's basically what was portrayed in the illustration on the blog."

"Earth to Rei! Hello? Can you hear me?" Milly got my attention by waving her hand in front of me, snapping me out of my eavesdropper state.

"Ah... huh? Were you saying something?" I stare at her in confusion.

She gives me a disbelieving look and sighs. She looks so done with me. "I said, I have already borrowed a camera from my cousin for our photography class. Do you still need it or have you already bought your own?"

"So, do you think Alice was in Juno Cafe the other day?" I overhear their conversation again. I look at the two girls whispering with each other using my peripheral vision.

"Mom bought me a camera already," I reply.

Milly didn't say anything more and just continued on her work. On the other hand, I stood up and pretended to get some materials from the table across just to clearly hear what my two classmates are whispering about now.

"It's just my theory but, what if Alice is a student of Huxley University? I mean, almost all the customers there are students from our school."

"He must be very bold if he really is a student here. Once the university president discovers his identity, he'll be expelled."

I feel a lump in my throat as my heart suddenly starts beating frantically because of nervousness. I know that I didn't do anything wrong. I just did what I thought was right, but in the eyes of the law of our country, my actions were a form of crime.

However, before creating Through the Looking Glass, I already anticipated this kind of scenario. When I decided to fight back and influence people using my art, I already thought of all the possibilities that might happen to me. I'm still not prepared for whatever consequences will befall me once somebody finds out about who I am, but my anxiety will never be enough of a reason for me to stop. I already have thousands of followers on my site who are showing their support. My artwork becomes an eye opener for some, it relays my message to everyone who sees it, even transcending the bounds of every border. So, why should I stop now?

I was in my first year of college when I started Through the Looking Glass. At first, I just made that site as a place for me to vent out my emotions due to the unjust society I am living in. I was, and still am, so infuriated with my country's system. I felt like there's nothing I could do. I felt like I didn't have any power and voice to call out our discriminatory administration. That was until my blog started to grow and reach out to wider audiences, I realized that this platform can be my form of voice and movement. From then on, I continued to draw illustrations that depict the cruel reality of Huxley that is being ignored by the upper class and is hidden from people outside the country.

I lowered the tools on my hand and placed them on the table as I felt a vibration coming from my phone. I fish it out of my pocket and my brows furrow when I see a message from an unknown number.

"I know who you are."

What? What does it mean? I stare at the message for a couple of seconds, trying to understand the context behind it. But, I felt like this is just a prank so I decided to shrug it off.

As I was about to turn off my phone, another message came in. This time, panic struck me when I read the second message. I immediately look around to see if there's someone secretly watching me, terror slowly creeping in my body. I see my classmates busy doing their own work, not minding my sudden change of mood, that doesn't stop me from being suspicious of everyone inside the room.

I bowed my head and read the message repeatedly, trying to see if it is real or my eyes are just deceiving me. However, no matter how many times I read it, nothing changes. It's still there. The word that gave me goosebumps being displayed on the screen remained, staring back at me as if mocking my distress.

"Alice."