Chapter 1

Sleep is what I need. Sleep causes dreams and dreams are fictitious realities created by one's mind to escape the objectivities of this world. A world I wasn't meant to exist in, a product of carelessness that became a burden to the people who procreated me. The woman who birthed me whom I used to call Mom was anything but a mother when I approached the tender age of six.

The man who has been stripped of his role as a father left the woman and me behind with nothing but debt. The situation took a toll on the woman making her lose control and bestow all of life's mistakes onto me, creating a rift of what was once mother and daughter.

"SAMANTHA! BREAKFAST IS READY!"

Speaking of life's mistakes today was my first day of high school. A year that I know will just be like every other, fake, empty, meaningless. I threw my legs to one side of the bed and hopped off before turning around and straightening the sheets. I reached over to my mahogany nightstand where my phone was and checked the time for it to be around 7:30 AM.

Placing my phone back, I grabbed a peach coloured towel off the floor and went out of my room making my way down the hallway to the bathroom. There I closed the door behind me and placed my towel on a hook at the back of the door. I peeled off my nightdress and underwear before stepping into the shower.

I turned the knob and allowed quick streams of hot water to bring forth its potential relaxing sensation to my body giving me a moment of content. Though instead of that all I received were shootings of pain from the lower up instantaneously flooding my mind with memories of the woman. 

The woman consistently drank a sinful liquid as of means to cope but it only guided her to a path of self-destruction. This destruction was her euphoria and she wanted more and more of it. It became an addiction to which she spent whatever we have left on that liquid.

It was almost comical that she is slowly becoming what the bad man is. At the time, I was nothing more than a child, an impressionable young mind subservient to her needs on a whim with feelings of guilt weighing over what was happening to me and her.

After my shower, I wrapped my body around the towel and headed once again to my room. The time is 7:40 AM and Aunt Nicole was yelling for me to come down or stay there and starve. I rolled my eyes at her uncalled for statement and went over to my closet.

You might be thinking that someone with a mindset like mine would go for dark, musky colours, concealing one's presence in hopes to not be noticed and bothered about. Well, you would've been correct if you chose a typical tale of an abusive narrative. 

No, I like to wear bright colours, despite my childhood being shit as one could get I still saw the beauty of things and the clothes I have in my hands emitted the utmost of beauty today. It was a crimson floral patterned knee-length skirt complimenting the midnight black laced blouse.

I stood in front of my Aunt's black cheval mirror and twirled around getting a sense of beauty from this outfit. I didn't look bad, pretty decent actually.

With a few touch-ups of makeup, nothing too bold just simple eyeliner and red velvet lipstick, I was ready to go. I grabbed my burgundy JanSport backpack and went down the stairs towards the kitchen to be greeted by the presence of Aunt Nicole and Uncle Richard.

Nicole's lips curled into a bright grin as she handed me my breakfast and kissed the top of my head. I wish I could say I felt her love but her identical resemblance to the woman inhibits any feelings of affection to her, only a hollow smile is what she gets in return.

I ate my eggs in silence while Nicole washes the dishes and Richard reads the local newspaper as wells as drinking his regular black coffee. While I was close to finishing my eggs Nicole sat back down at the table and ran a hand through her dirty blonde hair out of a state of conflict.

"Samantha dear, there is something Richard and I have to tell you," I swallowed the last bit of egg and slowly looked up at her as she avoided my gaze. Richard had set his newspaper down and locked eyes with Nicole as if they were communicating with their minds. The clock was ticking and they looked hesitant to say what they have to say.

I was getting a bit anxious with anticipation of what the big revelation was. Could it be...that I was going to get sent away? Were they in a financial crisis and were scared to inform me of it?

My breathing started to get shallow while the worst possible scenarios came to mind. It was only then Richard spoke up that left me with never-ending curiosity.

"Never mind sweetie, we'll talk about this after you come back from school," my guardians went back to doing their usual thing while I sat there with unanswered questions. I really wanted to know what the big secret was.

It just seemed kind of annoying that the topic was brought up and then suddenly shut down, ugh. Oh well, I guess I'll just leave it for now. I pushed my plate aside and slid off the seat before grabbing my bag and slinging in on my shoulders. 

Nicole kissed my cheek and wished me a good day at school. I returned her affection with a cold nod before going to the shoe rack. Richard stood up from his seat and went over to Nicole giving her hugs and kisses and whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

Looking at what they were doing made me a bit uneasy and full of mixed emotions. I pushed aside those feelings and when to put on some black flats before stepping out of the house.

The neighbourhood was pretty quiet, and a safe one at that. The scenery alone with clean streets, vibrant colours of the leaves and the sounds of the other youth were a big difference in comparison to my old neighbourhood.

Back when I was living with the woman, we were living in a neighbourhood stricken with crime and poverty. The sounds of blood-curdling screams, raging police officers, and shootings were the norm. It was just a typical day, nothing out of the ordinary from there.

In fact, I would be surprised if there was a day where it was just silent. The woman and I were at a time where we only had each other and I was too young to take in all of what was going to be the last of my loving mother.

Upon my sixth birthday, my mother became more and more unrecognizable and the woman whom I once loved became more of a stranger I was forced to live with while having limited resources.

Richard stepped out of the house with me bringing forth his scent of coffee, mint and aftershave with him. He was a tall man with a slight build wearing a pair of black slacks followed by a dark blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and almond coloured dress shoes. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders engulfing me with his odour while guiding me to his silver Toyota Corolla. 

We are somewhat close after I began opening up to him. He was a patient man and acted like some form of a father figure to me. He taught me how to play the violin and the piano when I first arrived here.

It enlightened my soul and exposed me to a symphony of wonder and joy but also sadness and pain. That was the beauty of music, it unravels emotions within you even the ones you refuse to acknowledge. It speaks to you as if it understands, and little by little heals you along the way.

I slipped into the passenger seat and ran my slender fingers through my thin blonde hair mentally preparing for the events to come. With a roar of the engine, Richard backed out of the driveway and off we went. I tightly clutched my bag with an ill feeling forming in the pit of my stomach.

Hunter Academy, is it? A huge school in the area that stood its ground for 150 years annually enrolling 3000 students and is noted for paranormal activity in some parts of the building.

I gawked out the window looking ahead of the blurred streaks of trees in a state of apathy not having any desire whatsoever to go to school. It is just going to be another boring and exhausting year. Although as strange as it is, it will be my domain, my place to control who I can be.

As we arrived at school I got out of the car with my bag in hand and gently shut the door behind me. Richard rolled the window down and wished me a good day at school. I nodded and gave a very small smile before heading towards the front door.

I heard the skid of his tires as he drove off leaving me at a breeding ground of potential leeches and fakes. Before stepping into the building I have to put on my mask as well.

Peering inside, the halls were dimly lit and it was quiet to the point where you can hear a pin drop. The only noise that was audibly present was the sounds of phone calls at the main office. I took out my slightly crumpled registration form and brought to a lady who looked to be quite busy with a call.

"Excuse me." I grabbed her attention and she placed the phone done while I handed her my form. She took with a gentle tug and in exchange gave me my schedule.

"Samantha Éclair. Is that how you say it, dear?" Her crinkled lips were moving in a slow manner as if my name is a foreign language. I nodded and she told me my locker number: 2543 I gave a supposed shy smile and left to find my locker.

The hallways were massively spaced with rays of sun shining through the crystal clear windows illuminating specks of dust in the air causing me to let out a not so cute sneeze. Ugh, allergies are the worst.

I strolled through more identical lockers before finding mine which luckily for me is close to a music room. I slowly stepped inside to be embraced with the sight of a multitude of instruments lined up neatly. 

A baby grand piano was placed at the corner of the room to which put me in a hypnotic trance. I want to go to it, touch it, play it, and venture into the depths of Mozart, Beethoven and Chopin's works.

My thoughts of relishing myself in the realms of music were interrupted when a janitor bumped past me in a rude and rough manner. His face contorted with disgust and annoyance upon the sight of me and this room.

"Whatcha doin' in here, kid? Scram, get lost." I quickly stepped out of the way for him to go through.

"You kids and your nosiness. Ugh, why did I ever get this job?" He slammed the door on my face sending ripples of anger through my bones.

Asshole

I begrudgingly sat down at my locker and took a peek at my schedule. My first class is English which is to be in room 303. It took me another 20 minutes to find it until I found it to be right across the cafeteria.

Inside the classroom were past projects stuck to the walls. Quotes from Hamlet, King Lear and Macbeth were spread at the back of the room. Some art pieces were near the window sill that represented a form of abstract thought. It was aesthetically pleasing to look at the work and effort from other students. If only I was that creative in making something worth being in the presence of many.

The desks were arranged in pairs and I sat at a desk that was close to the front. I placed my bag on the seat beside me and took out a little black notebook. With a swift of a pencil, I began to write some music sheets of my own in hopes of using them on the baby grand piano. I finished half of a page before the teacher walked in making the room unexpectedly brighter than it already is. 

As if on cue, students begin to pool into the class with some staring at the teacher in awe. I mean, I can't blame them she looked to be quite young perhaps early 30s with straight, shiny brown hair, thick circle glasses, and an oval-shaped face complimenting with her hair with a single mole under her left eye.

She had a bit of an hourglass figure wearing a white blouse with a black pencil skirt looking to be professional. Her 3-inch black stiletto heels tapped against the hard tiled floor as she sat at her desk and began to take attendance once the students settled down. Fortunately, no one chose to sit beside me but I didn't care anyway, one less person to put up an act with.