The 'Main Building'

I ignored them as I started to scoff down my food quickly, the quicker, the less time I get to taste it. And at this point, it is a good thing.

They said it was to make us less picky when eating, because eventually, when we graduate from secondary, when we're finally 18,

and full adults under their control. We'll need to be able to survive under any condition. Resulting in the poorly made food. Excuses.

The stew tasted like how it smells, fish with oats and burnt, how it was burnt while being a stew? No idea, I don't cook, I kill. I tried gulping down the milk from its carton, utterly ignoring the straw by opening it entirely by unfolding its edges and pulling those folds apart. It was chunky and spoilt, definitely not in the right condition to be given to a growing child about to start puberty. I picked out the carrots one by one; they were small and poorly cut, but that wasn't the bad thing about them, no. They still had earth on them from when they were still growing. And they were even rotting severely, a green moss looking thing firmly attached itself to the few carrot sticks lying within the bag. Man, how I'm jealous of the people with cleansing and earth abilities. Next was the biscuit, no flavour but that was alright, at least it was better than the rest of the meal, the only thing about the round crumbly piece of bread was that it was overly dry, as if it was dunked in flour and the excess sitting on the top of it was definitely neither shook off nor wiped off. At least there was pepper. But I don't think that's supposed to go in a biscuit most of the time...

I looked back up at my friends after I finished eati- ...reluctantly putting... things(?) Down my throat.

Aidan had his signature permanent frown plastered on his facial structure, but it was more defined as his face was turning into a mix between a pale white and green. It reminded me of those trees you have up near the end of the year. It's been so long since I actually had the chance to celebrate it; I forgot what it was called. Chriss, Crest Max? Something about Jesus, I think?

Mara was tearing up as she warily nibbled on her biscuit, coughing a few times from the dryness. Poor girl.

Cain had already finished as I did, no surprise there. Sadly, I didn't get the chance to scald the image of him struggling to eat the cafeteria food into the depths of my brain, but I'm sure I'll get another chance someday.

"Trying to imagine my disgusted face? Try another time. Harpy."

Damn, he caught me again.

I looked back at my tray, bearing my eyes into the thick, flat iron as if I had telepathic abities and was.trying to tear it apart. Forcing my eyes to wonder around it, seeing if I had missed anything. I know that I haven't, but I'm not going to let him know that.

I completely ignored his question as if it was never directed at me in the first place.

He chuckled once again. I could see the amusement he never tries to hide in his eyes.

I silently pouted as I looked at the exact opposite direction of where he was, and that was right next to me, on the right.

I bounced back in shock.

Standing there was the Headmistress.

Right next to my face.

Cain caught me as I fell back on him as he glared back in the direction of the headmistress. As fast as a bolt of lightning, I brushed Cain off as I sat up facing my tray and looked back down at it. The rest of the group mimicked my movements, so did

Cain, but very much hesitatingly.

"Well, hello there, children~

Is the food nice, or should I go and scold the servers and get you a new plate?~

We do want you nice and healthy after all~"

All that pink resting on her slim figure blinded me. She looked like Dolores Umbridge but skinnier and blond.

She made an image come to my mind immediately:

A human radish.

I hate radish because of her now.

I can bet my life on it that Cain was thinking the same or at minimal similar.

"No, thank you, Miss Kelton." We all spoke this simultaneously. It's probable that an answer that slightly differs to this would make her flip into a boundless rage. And when she rages, let's just say that it's extremely frightening. The likeliness of the majority of students experiencing the aftereffects of her rage is extremely high.

And right now, she's in a mood. When the Headmistress is in a mood, it normally results in someone eventually doing/saying something to set off the fuse of her rage,

Then she, well, rages.

I'm smelling the tint of iron; no, it's blood.

And so it seems that I've seen no one with bleeding injuries, so I have concluded that

Miss Umbridge 2.0 over here...

It's on her, as Aidan once called it 'blood moon'.

We're all screwed.

Yay.

Miss Raspberry left to move onto the next part of the table to cruelly mess with their weak mental fortitudes. It seems that she had also went to torture the rest of the students from Tables 1 and 2 as well.

Then, blazed the siren.

It's time to start our first lesson for today.

Every child seated in that room lifted themselves from their seats and in single file despite some not finishing their meal, though, I'm sure they wouldn't want to in the first place, strode out of the cafeteria, through the next double doors serving as an exit and entrance.

Table 1 (the 3-5 year olds) went on the first floor of the next building we entered.

Table 2 (the 6-8 year olds) went on the second floor.

And finally, table 3 (the 9-12 year olds) went on the third floor, that is where we go.

We call this building 'The Main building', nothing special, but it does imply what it is supposed to be.

Entering from the door from the cafeteria, you could see that there was a hallway you stumbled upon, one straight infront, one on the left, and one on the right.

The one on the right at the end was the stairs, where table 2 and table 3 go up. On the left at the end was the elevator, strictly for the 'teachers', 'cleaners', and the rest we haven't met yet. No students are permitted to go on it for a reason that not even I'm sure of. All I know is if they actually go on it, they get taken for punishment and are eventually expelled.

The 'tables' are actually referred to as grades, grades 1, 2, and 3. Then it carries on in secondary, but we don't get to know the system there until we're actually in it.

We headed towards the stairs, going up them as we followed behind grade 2. They went through the door, leading to floor 2.

As we lead the other years up to the top floor, floor 3.

We entered through the door, reaching the identical hallway to the 1st and 2nd grades.

This is the place our daily sadistic torture begins.