My New Life at Nevermore

Life inside the private goth aesthetic school is surprisingly good. Everyone here is nice, which contradicts the stereotypes I had.

I expected vampires to be cold, arrogant, and to think they were superior, expecting everyone to worship them or something. But I was wrong. Besides their pale skin, dark sunglasses, and the occasional glimpse of fangs when they laugh, they're just like us—maybe even more polite.

Werewolves are very optimistic and incredibly energetic. I had to buy noise-canceling headphones the day after the full moon just to get some peace.

Gorgons are the only ones allowed to wear hats or anything that covers their heads—or rather, their snakes. No one wants to be turned into a stone statue, even temporarily. I've heard that it takes a really strong gorgon with a strong desire to kill for their curse to be fatal. Otherwise, they're pretty chill people.

You wouldn't know someone is a siren unless they touch water. That might be dangerous since they can use their magical voices to control you, but that's a rare ability even among royal families. Bianca claims she has royal blood, but I know she's lying thanks to my aura observation ability.

I can tell when someone is lying, but I didn't expose her because it's a harmless lie, and getting involved might lead to bigger trouble.

Talking about my first supernatural power, aura observation, I could go on about it for hours. I could spend my life researching it. It basically allows me to see the aura of every living being—or at least most of them.

I specialize in human auras. Every person has a unique aura surrounding them, which changes shape, color, density, and size according to their physical and emotional state. For example, when someone is angry, their aura grows larger and turns red; when they're sad, it shrinks and turns blue.

You can't imagine how fun it is to explore this untouched field. I was planning to become a therapist to help with my goal, but then I found out about the hidden world and Nevermore Academy. I'm convinced it's a place that would attract villains. I still hope I'm just being paranoid, but I can't let my guard down.

Now, I'm looking at myself in the mirror: a tall 15-year-old boy, about 5.8 feet (or 177 cm) tall, with short black hair and very dark brown eyes. My face has sharp features, and I have the typical white American skin.

I'm wearing black shoes, black pants, a white shirt, and a blazer with black and dark blue vertical stripes, with the Nevermore crest on the left chest pocket.

"Eugene, let's go. I don't want to be late again."

"Just a minute, I can't find my shoes," Eugene replied. He has fluffy black hair, brown eyes, wears black glasses, and has a metal retainer.

"They're under your bed."

Eugene looked under his bed. "Here they are. How did you know that?"

"They're always there. You constantly throw them there even when I tell you not to, but you never listen."

"Yeah, yeah." Eugene put on his shoes, stood up, and said, "Let's go. I'm done."

A few minutes later, we were in history class.

As I sat in my place, the door of the classroom opened. An old woman with very pale skin and wrinkles on her face walked in. Her eyes were covered with very dark sunglasses, probably to protect them from the morning sunlight. Her brown hair, streaked with gray, was pulled back with precision, not a single strand out of place.

She looked at the whole class and said in a calm, clear voice, "Homework, now."

We all took out our homework papers and put them on our desks. Then Bianca stood up, collected the papers, and handed them to Mrs. Ravenscroft. She took her pen and started correcting them. It took about two minutes before she called Bianca to return the papers.

It's amazing every time I see it. The first time, I couldn't believe she could not only read but also correct spelling mistakes and assign grades so quickly. Even though we're a small class, with fewer than twenty students, it's still impressive. I heard her record for the whole school is 52 seconds.

After she finished, Bianca handed the papers back. I got a perfect A.

It's not easy to get an A+ in her class. It's not enough to just meet all the requirements; she has to like your work too. Writing what you think is right might make you pass, but it won't get you that perfect grade.

"Students, today we're going to learn about the role of outcasts in the Battle of Gettysburg. In exchange for helping the Union army, they were promised their rights. Now, open your books to page 44."

I have to admit, learning about the secret history of the supernatural world is way more interesting than regular history. Though, I think it's more about the person teaching the subject rather than the subject itself.

A tall Caucasian teen with brown eyes and dirty blonde shoulder-length hair approached my desk.

"Gray, stop daydreaming. The class is over. Let's go."

I stood up, grabbed my stuff, and started walking.

"So, Xavier, what grade did Mrs. Ravenscroft give you?"

"An A-. I still don't get what she wants. I did everything she asked for and more, but it's still not enough. I don't know what kind of magic you use to get the perfect grade."

"I could tell you, but I don't think you'd find it worth it."

"Please tell me. Bianca won't let me relax if I don't give her an answer, and that'll put her in a bad mood, which increases the chances of her picking a fight with me over something stupid."

"My poor tall friend, I truly feel sorry for you."

Xavier rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Can you now tell that poor friend the amazing secret so he can eat in peace again?"

Max couldn't hold in his laughter any longer. The loud sound made Xavier turn red as he realized Max had been sarcastic.

"Max, please stop laughing. People are looking at us."

Max barely contained his laughter, though a big smile remained on his face.

"I don't remember the last time I laughed this hard. Xavier, you truly have a talent for this. Because of that, I'll not only give you the secret to getting the approval mark in Ravenscroft's class but also lend you my notebook."

"Look, it's really hard to get the full mark, and there are two ways. The first is to write a perfect assignment, so good that the least she can give you is an A+. The second way is to study her work and try to mimic her writing style, but you can't copy too much. Eugene tried that and got a C+, along with a warning not to do it again."

"That doesn't seem right. I mean, it's not fair. I don't think Mrs. Ravenscroft would do that."

"You're right, Xavier. She doesn't do it consciously."

"What?"

"Let me finish. In her mind, anything that reminds her of herself is a good thing and means you're improving in the right way."

"That makes sense, but how did you figure this out?"

"Well, I like studying people's minds. Usually, I don't go too far with it, but I got frustrated with the last A- I received, even after spending so much time and effort. She didn't give a reasonable explanation, so I did some research. Since she's famous in her field, it was easy to find her work. All I had to do was go to the library and look up her name."

"You're right, this really isn't worth it. Why did you spend so much time on it? Couldn't you just accept your grade and do something else you enjoy?"

"But I did enjoy it, and I haven't even told you about analyzing her personality."

"I'm going to stop you there. What you're about to say is considered very personal information that could put you in serious trouble. And I thought you only had telekinesis—when did you get telepathy?"

"I didn't. All the information I got was from public knowledge in the library and my personal conclusions, just like a detective. So, I'll be fine."

"Fine, but don't talk about this to anyone. If people find out, you'll be an outcast among the outcasts. No one likes their personal thoughts being exposed for everyone to see."

"Fine, I get it."

And just like that, the day ended. I'm now sitting on my bed, finishing another assignment that Mrs. Ravenscroft gave us.

After reflecting on what happened today and over the past couple of weeks, I've finally found the answer to a question that's been living rent-free in my mind for years.

Who am I?

Am I an old man in a new body, or just a teenage boy with an old man's memories? Or am I something else, something new?

The answer I've finally reached is that I'm simply a person who has the memories, knowledge, experience, and some of the wisdom from my past life.

My past self died that day, and even though this doesn't fully answer the question, I know one thing for sure: I am Max Gray.

But who exactly is Max Gray?

I have a simple answer: Max Gray is someone who wants to enjoy life and avoid any regrets.

It's a simple answer, but I can work with it