Page 12 of The Bleak Beginning

I clench my jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. The green streak in my hair suddenly feels like a lifeline I’m about to lose.

Their eyes glint with triumph, and it fills me with disgust. They take my lack of response as a victory and the three of them strut away, leaving me alone on the steps of Altair’s main building. The weight of their words settle over me like a heavy fog. What had my dad done to inspire such hatred? And why had he never told me about this place, about these people who seemed to know so much about our family?

Until yesterday, I was completely unaware of the existence of Altair. And now, somehow, I find myself in a conflict with three guys who seem to know my family better than I do? What did I ever do to deserve this?

My walk back to my dorm is swift and filled with my desire to leave, but I can’t. I had made the decision to attend this new university, and I wasn't going to back down so easily.

With shaking hands, I unlock the door to my room and slip inside. The box of dye feels like a grenade with the pin pulled, ready to explode in my grip. I toss it onto my desk and collapse onto the bed, my mind reeling.

This place is beyond weird.

Chapter 3

Alex

The dense forest of towering pine trees blocked out most of the setting sun as the wooded area enveloped me in a sea of green, towering trees reaching toward the sky as far as the eye could see. The ground was blanketed in a colorful carpet of wildflowers, intermingled between the imposing trunks.

The air was filled with the earthy scent of pine needles. A breeze carried the smell of damp earth and decaying leaves as I bent down to further study my surroundings.

My fingers brushed against the soft, velvety texture of a patch of moss, then ran over the smooth, cool surface of a fern frond as I recall the last night I had with Clara before I left.

My sister had stayed up all night in my room, helping me pack. She was sorting through the odds and ends while occasionally handing me something to put away.

“Do you remember,” Clara says suddenly, “when we used to play hide and seek in here? And I always hid in your closet?”

“Yeah, and you always gave yourself away by giggling.”

“I did not!” Clara protests, mock offended. “You were just too good at seeking.”

I laugh, “sure, that’s what it was.”

“Well, at least I was better at one thing,” she says with a smile as she reaches for the gold chain around her neck. The necklace is adorned with a mix of charms, including a starfish, a smiley face, an arrow, cherries, and other unique additions. “You were always terrible at making things like these. Same with friendship bracelets.”

“Hey, I wasn't that bad,” I protest, but we both know it's true. My attempts at crafting bracelets were always subpar - mismatched beads and barely-secured strings.

Altair has had many negatives—in my short time here this find has been the only positive. Woods lined the school, which create an endless fresh playground for me to test my knowledge and explore new plant species. So far, they were all common and unremarkable, like a deck of well-worn cards, but in this game of botany I loved the hunt for the hidden gems of the forest floor.

Locks of my loose hair fall, tickling my cheeks as I observe a flower that stands alone among the grass, its delicate white petals stark against the green surroundings. Its stem is thin but sturdy, leading up to a small yellow center that resembles a tiny sun.

Interesting…

My head tilts up as a droplet of water suddenly hits my nose. Another one falls right after, and then a third peppers my face. Swiftly, I pull out my notebook and gently pluck the flower before placing the find beneath the pages and put my journal safely back into my bag.

The droplets come faster now as I move through the woods, the thick trees doing an admirable job of protecting me from most of the rain.

The main path stretches out before me, lined with more tall trees and lampposts that cast a dim glow in the gloom. The cobblestone pavement is slick and glistening, the wet surface reflecting the light of the burnished posts.

I curse, pulling my foot from a small puddle as water starts to seep into my shoe, making my sock damp and uncomfortable. The stone beneath my feet is uneven from years of footsteps.

The small brass eagles perched atop the fenceposts seem to be mocking me as I frown. Their smug, wide grins and glinting eyes add to the feeling of ridicule.

“What, is your giant buddy at the main gate the only one who bows?” I grumble to the stupid figurines.

My stomach growls, the sound echoing in the stillness of the surrounding area. It seems to amplify in my ears, drowning out any other sounds. Meanwhile, I swear the brass eagles cackle and laugh.

My stomach twists in hunger, making me wince and clutch at my abdomen. The only food I had today was from the assortment of fruits and crackers and cheese left in a welcome basket on my desk in my room. Tomorrow, I would need to find the dining hall, or I was going to starve.

I wonder if they’re still open at this time. What time is it anyway?

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