Laura had always believed that fate did not leave friendships to chance. True friendships, even if they resulted in a falling out, had a purpose in shaping both parties. Laura had developed a few friendships even in her first few years of life. But after the accident, she'd lost them all. Regardless, she'd never considered one of them her best friend. She'd been saving that position for a very special person. Even if she waited for a lifetime, Laura believed that her bestfriend, her soulmate, would find her-that they would find each other.
A borderline shrill voice came bursting through Laura's bedroom. The honey-brunette sighed into her pillow, only barely managing to remember the day, and confirmed her suspicion that there weren't any school classes scheduled. Laura felt a sudden dip at the foot of her bed and sat up, only to find Susan face-down in the sheets, grumbling into nothingness.
Laura giggled and patted the other girl's shoulder.
At this, Susan lifted her head ever so slightly. "Lola's crazy…"
Laura spotted a thin-lipped smile but didn't comment; instead, she turned to Lola who had begun speaking again.
"I heard that, Susan! Laura dear, we have to attend mass today as well as every Sunday," said Lola.
Laura couldn't manage to keep her thoughts reeled in. "Aren't you of a different belief? I mean, not to assume anything, but your mother had the star of David pinned on her collar so I'd figured that you'd be the same- and I'm very sorry about asking but-"
Lola giggled. "Yes, I am. That doesn't mean I can't enjoy the beautiful aura of a church house."
Laura spotted Lola quickly pulling open the curtains and rushing to gather Laura's cloths. Laura smiled at this. She suspected that Lola would, someday, be a very good mother.
Laura found herself shifting in her seat, picking at the food on her white plate anxiously. New places tended to raise some high amounts of unwanted curiosity in Laura. She attempted to stop bouncing in her seat, but once Ms. Perry gave the call for everyone to rush and slip on their coats and winter shoes, Laura couldn't help but give a small squeal of delight.
Susan laughed. "First time going to a church?" She said, as the three friends, all dressed in their long olive pea coats that framed their shoulders, slipped on their outside trainers.
Laura made a small noise of thought before adjusting the green beret atop her head. "I suppose a few times. But most were for funeral viewings…"
Susan rose a curious brow at this but didn't comment. She knew that Laura's father was a Captain of the British Army, so she'd assumed that kind of lifestyle had surrounded Laura.
Once out the front door, they were greeted with the musk of late autumn. Laura snuggled further into herself as they stepped outside, feeling small sprinkles of rain begin to fall from the gloomy sky. Beside her, Lola gave out a frustrated growl.
The beret just barely managed to cover the top of Lola's fiery mess of orange curls, which she patted down angrily.
"Lola's hair gets all poofy with the humidity," Susan explained. "It's really cute."
Lola turned red, patting down her hair more furiously. "It's not!"
"It is!" Susan laughed, tucking her own ears under the beret.
Ms. Perry, who had already been outside at the time, called the students in after she's observed them attempting to splash each other with mini puddles on the pavement. "Pair up, girls! I want two lines right in front of me. Pair up!"
Lola and Susan immediately stepped together and gave a rather sheepish look at Laura, who smiled in return.
"That's alright, I think it was about time I spoke to more than two people here." So she looked around as the girls, all of the various ages, began pairing up with each other. Laura spotted the little blonde from yesterday, thumb in her mouth as she clutched onto her beret.
The honey-blonde skipped over. "Hello, Lottie!"
Lottie took the courtesy of pulling her thumb out of her mouth, "Hello Lauwa." she said politely before sticking it right back in.
Laura eyed the big beret that Lottie had clutched to her chest and pointed at it. "Do you need any help with that?" To which Lottie nodded and stuck out her arm towards Laura, who took the beret and adjusted it accordingly atop Lottie's head. Laura played with the little girl's hair a bit, noticing how soft and angel-like it was.
Once Lottie was situated, Laura spoke again. "Would you like to walk together? I make a great buddy!"
Lottie nodded solemnly, reaching out to immediately grip Laura's small hand with her even tinier one. Laura filed them both into the line as they waited. Suddenly, Lottie was out of her grip, running off to the front of the line to meet with a five-year-old whom Laura knew as Maybell. The honey-brunette huffed, smiling. "Well sheesh, go right ahead."
"Sorry, I told her that Mabel had some candy to share. I hope you don't mind?"
Laura jumped, only now just noticing the tall redheaded girl whom she'd seen at breakfast the other day. The girl was smiling down at her, her hand held out in a friendly manner.
Laura took it cautiously. "Oh, that's alright. She'd ought to make friends her own age." Laura observed the rather tall teenager as the two lines began to make their way. She'd remembered her name: Danielle Lawrence, who was in charge of making sure the younger children got their share of exercise.
Her grip was strong against Laura's, and Laura found herself struggling to make conversation.
" I'm quite new here, so I really don't know much about this place…"
Danielle nodded. "I know! You're Laura, aren't you?"
Laura gave an affirmative smile.
Danille's return was almost blinding. "I'm Danny. Well, my given name is Danielle, but that seems a bit too posh for my liking."
"Danny…" Laura repeated, wrinkling her nose. The name was a bit boyish, but charming nonetheless. They were out of the heavy black gates now. Laura found it strange that she hadn't even taken the time to notice who was leading them; she'd then noticed the looming presence of Miss Morgan. who was walking as gracefully as a swimming swan. If that swan was a dark and scary sort of bird… But what caught Laura's eye was the small timid presence that walked right beside the Dean; the tiny back side of Mircalla. Her dress was as neat as ever, and she had replaced her usual olive satin bow for a silky black one. Laura cocked her head. Was that allowed? Perhaps it was a special occasion only for the church visit. Mircalla's stature was but a mere toddler's size when compared with Miss Morgan's model-like height. Laura also noticed that while other students were speaking animatedly to their partners, (even Susan and Lola, who were laughing about something Lola's mother had said) the Dean did not care to even spare a glance at Mircalla. Why then, would Mircalla choose to walk with Miss Morgan?
The small honey brunette couldn't understand it. She turned to her left to find Danny staring at her questioningly.
"Well?"
Laura felt her face redden. She wasn't paying attention to what was asked of her.
Danny laughed at Laura's expression. "That's alright, you don't have to tell me right now."
Laura held in a sigh of relief, internally scolding herself for wondering about things that she had no control over. It was a childish thing to do, really…
Laura turned slightly behind her, where she could see the distant town just west of their school fading with each step. To the east, a white building emerged. An enormous house of worship.
Stained glass windows adorned either side of the church, both in long pairs. Statues of saints and angels aligned themselves on their side. At one time, it would have been prominent that the temple had been white, but had been layered and peeled so many times that it was now an eggshell brown with occasional strips of white paint. It was hastily uninviting, but at the same time, held an aura of easiness.
The Priest was calm, yet his voice boomed from his rather large stature.
It reminded Laura nothing of her father, though. This man was wrinkled and had a permanent scowl hastily sewn onto his features, as if he'd spent most of his life in great judgment. Laura tried not to catch his eye. Beside her, she found Perry listening avidly, while Susan had apparently fallen asleep on her shoulder and was snoring quietly. Laura rubbed at her eyes tiredly before leaning back to stare at the beautifully painted ceiling panels that were high above any one person's reach. The colors made her slightly dizzy.
Mass went by slowly. Laura tried not to fidget too much, but even as some of the younger children tried to entertain themselves. Until finally, the sermon was completed, and the churchgoers were dismissed.
Even the air felt lighter now that the children had been given free reign. Brunch had been laid out in a pot-luck arrangement, where they were given their choice in both healthy and sweetened foods; most of the children helped themselves to the latter.
The younger ones skipped about while the elders chatted animatedly. Laura pulled at the grass where herself and a few other children had placed themselves.
"What position in the army is your father, Laura?" Perry asked, and Laura's answering smile couldn't've been brighter. She'd just begun to settle into the loss of absence of her father, and while her heart ached for him, she always felt as though she needed to learn a little independence. One is never too young to grow up…right?
Laura's babbling about her father and his stories lead to Susan and Lola giving their own chatter about their family lives. Lola spoke very highly of her father's position as a nurse for the war effort, as well as her mother's job as a housemaid for their boarding school. Susan was a bit quieter about the subject, but spoke of her parents fondly.
While the two were exchanging old memories (something about cookies, maybe) Laura scanned the dull green church lawn that surrounded them. She'd noticed that Miss Morgan and Mrs. Perry had taken to sitting stiffly on silver chairs that were tucked neatly into the serving table. Mrs. Perry was explaining something, her hands flailing sweetly, while the Dean nodded in all the right places, the veil of darkness never leaving her slit eyes. Laura wasn't too surprised to see Mircalla sitting neatly on the other side of the table, unmoving, eyes trained forward.
Laura's tongue peeked out from her mouth in thought. Although Mircalla had been quite rude to her, lied to her, and practically dismissed her altogether, Laura found herself unable to stay too upset. After all, everyone deserved a second chance. Or a third.
The honey brunette hopped up, not bothering to check for unsightly grass stains as she dusted her hands. She snuck over towards the table, out of vision range from both the Dean and Mrs. Perry as she ducked quickly under the tablecloth, but not before snagging a delicious-looking honey custard biscuit from a silver tray atop the table. She crawled on her knees, simultaneously trying not to bump her head or drop the treat she intended to deliver. On the far side of the table, she'd reached her target. Ankle-tucked, black-tight covered legs, with polished Mary-Janes that were far more expensive looking than Laura's own pair.
Laura poked Mircalla's knee.
She received a sudden kick to the stomach in response.
"Oof!" Laura fell back on her bottom, still managing to keep the pastry off of the ground. Suddenly, a pair of dark chocolate eyes met her own as Mircalla tilted her head under the tablecloth.
Mircalla's glare couldn't have been more disgusted. She popped back up in an instant, and Laura followed, albeit a bit more carefully.
Deciding that the sudden blow had been a reflex, Laura didn't take it to heart and she stood next to the still-seated Mircalla, holding the golden pastry behind her back. "Hello!" The honey blonde chirped, giving a small wave with her free hand.
The dark brunette's response was nothing more than a bored blink, of even that. Laura questioned whether the gesture was even an acknowledgement in the first place...She tried again. The small biscuit was beginning to crumble behind her back, so she brought it forward as an offering. "I've brought you a custard biscuit. Although I don't know if you'd like it; if you wanted something from the table I suppose you could have just grabbed it yourself, but maybe you'd like to join us! Well, by us, I mean Susan, Lola, and I, they may seem a little strange but they're both so kind" Laura's conscience told her that she was rambling, but she couldn't stop now. She had to talk to this girl. "It's really very good-here!" Laura stepped forward to further her offering, and ended up dropping a few fluffy crumbs on the dark satin skirt of the girl's dress.
Laura, not knowing otherwise, giggled nervously. "Oh, I'm very sorry, here-" She reached forward with her tiny, gentle hand to brush the contrasting crumbs off the other girl's lap, but Mircalla stiffened like a board before contact could be made. Then she stood up like a bullet, and her book slid onto the grass, folding open the pages in odd ways against the murky lawn. The girl's devastating glare made Laura's throat go dry. And before little Laura could even utter another apology, (hopefully one she would have been allowed to finish) Mircalla had snatched up her Bible and strode away.
Laura hadn't even noticed when she'd dropped the biscuit to the ground.
Why had she reacted so? They were simple crumbs; they couldn't have absolutely ruined her expensive dress, could they have? Laura's feet were kicking lightly as she pondered on the edge of her soft bed. She had pulled her long honey-brown locks up into a high ponytail, the ends of which were curling this way and that. She'd also taken the liberty of removing her original uniform and changing into a more comfortable set of ladies' trousers and a pastel green poofing blouse that was a tad too big for her small frame.
Laura heard very loud honking coming from outside of her window. Though the nearest cross street was very far away from the school, she could still make out the Palliser Ambulance that was making its way past. She thought it a bit strange. Until she'd gone outside of her own room and hopped onto the sangria carpet, she'd not registered the grunts of frustration that were coming from another room somewhere near her own. Laura's brows creased together as she stared into a nearby opened door, where she found a small, bright blonde head of hair flouncing as Lottie tried to grab at something on a high dresser. Laura smiled and skipped over. "Hello, Lottie!"
Lottie turned with sad eyes at Laura. "Hello, Ms Lauwa."
Laura giggled at the formal name and bent down a few inches to Lottie's own height. "What's the matter? Why were you hopping?"
Lottie pointed to the top of the dresser. "Miss Perry put toy uh' there. Can' reach." Lottie's voice wavered a tad, and it made Laura's heart clench. The honey blonde nodded determinedly. "I'll get it!"
Though try as she might, Laura's own height didn't distinguish too harshly from Lottie's own. So she too failed to retrieve the toy. She huffed, but not dejectedly. She turned her back to Lottie, and crouched down. "Hop on, Lottie; I'll lift ya to it!"
The tiny blonde did so, and just barely managed to grab onto the porcelain object that had been out of Laura's line of vision.
Lottie scrambled off of Laura once she'd gotten her toy, and hugged it tightly to her with one hand, as the other thumb was now stuck in her mouth.
Laura noticed the beautiful doll right away. Its hair was thick and neatly curled, its skin perfectly blushed with black eyes that seemed as deep as an ocean. What was curious, though, was that it seemed that the porcelain doll had been given tailor-made clothing made to resemble the boarding school's uniform. Laura found this very curious. "Lottie?"
The tiny blonde was busy rocking the rather large doll in her arms, so she hadn't answered. Laura continued. "Where did you get that doll?"
Lottie's bright grey eyes shifted to stare into Laura's own honey-brown irises. Lottie still hadn't said anything.
"Did you mummy or daddy get it for you?"
Lottie's head shook. "Don' have t'em."
Laura's brow creased. It wasn't likely that she'd get the answers she searched for. At least, not from Lottie's own mouth. Laura made a mental note to ask Mrs. Perry about it sometime later on. So she smiled at Lottie and patted her soft hair. "Alright. Well, us older people have very important things to do. I'll go now."
"Miss Lauwa." Lottie called before the honey blonde was out of the doorway.
"Yes, Lottie?"
The four-year-old reluctantly held the porcelain doll away from her body, outstretched towards Laura to prove her point. Lottie spoke again, with great seriousness in her soft voice. "Dolly makes Carmilla sad."
Laura's brows shot up. There it was again. She knew that Lottie had been referring to Mircalla, but what use did Mircalla have with lying to Lottie about her name? And how could an expensive, well-dressed doll, make Mircalla waiver in emotion, when Laura couldn't even get a smile out of the girl? It was all very strange, but Laura hesitantly put it to the back of her mind, dismissing Lottie's words. "I see. It's probably best that she'd not see it then, right?"
Lottie nodded hesitantly. "Carmilla mustn't."
Laura gave a small smile and backed out of the room, leaving Lottie to stare into the eyes of the doll.
Their ballroom, although quite small, was largely beautiful. Its ceilings were golden and the polished redwood floor made Laura extra careful to avoid slipping. The room was brightly lit and held a strange old lavender scent. Susan had told Laura that they had been assigned dance partners since the age of seven, and most of it was just good fun and exercise. But now at a slightly older age, they were required to actually learn a few of the more advanced dance styles. This, Laura was most concerned about. She was only slightly clumsy, but having to coordinate with another person was an entirely new concept. She found it rather exciting as well. As it was, Laura hadn't been assigned a partner yet.
"Miss Hollis darling, you'll be filling in for anyone without a partner, as of now. We'll situate you with a partner once you become more familiar with the group." Their teacher had said to her.
Laura was thankful for this at least. But at least for the next few weeks, it wouldn't be entirely necessary.
They'd begun with a simple box step. Well, it was supposed to be simple. Perry had taken to the sequence gracefully, while Susan settled for jumping from square to square, switching between both feet.
Laura was doing her best not to trip over herself. 'Right back, then left...then back, wait, left back? Left left? Right front- no…' Laura huffed with a small smile. She was hopeless. Suddenly, small stocky hands had grabbed her own; Susan spun Laura around, giggling, and Lola smiled at the two.
The class went on rather smoothly. Their interpretive dance moves, however...
Laura's bedroom was cascaded in the bloody red sunlight that poured in through the large window. The small child was at the window seat. Laura found herself staring out of her room window once again, tending to the small tear on one of her uniforms. She'd known that while Lola would have done a very good job with the sewing job, Laura preferred to try it herself. Getting the thin thread through the even tinier eye of the needle had been a bit of a challenge, but Laura found that keeping track of the needle had been the hardest part with such dark carpeting. She pinched the thin strip of metal and poked it through the olive fabric and out to the other side. Just before she'd pricked her other hand.
"Owwie!" She dropped the sharp tool haphazardly, and stuck her pointer finger straight into her pouting mouth. The drop of blood that had oozed out tasted like orangey copper. Yeck! She couldn't imagine having to taste the stuff on purpose, like, some sort of...blood drinking creature she'd read about!
She pushed her hair behind her ear before rubbing at her eyes. It was almost late noon, as the bedroom was cast in a hazy pink glow from the light of the open window. Her sweet chocolate eyes scanned the distant town just outside of the black fence. If she tried hard enough, she could even make out the church, which was a stark contrast to the grey gothic buildings. But something caught Laura's eye. A small dot of a figure, letting itself through the front gates, and walking slowly towards the front of the school.
Laura pressed her hands against the window, her breath held so it didn't fog, and peered down at the small, well-dressed figure. Mircalla! The dark brunette strolling her way towards the mansion had not even bothered to look up from her hardback novel. Laura felt an irritated frown form on her own face. Mostly, she was curious. How was Mircalla allowed to leave the school whenever she saw fit? It clearly wasn't secretive; Mircalla was strutting in like she owned the property! A small part of Laura felt an unfamiliar tug of concern. Laura always saw the best in people, but their city was highly populated, and anyone could have snatched Mircalla away if she was unattended. Even Laura knew that a child wandering on her own in a large city of was not safe in the slightest.
Mircalla disappeared into the front school doors.
Perhaps one of the best parts of attending a high-end boarding school (in Laura's opinion, of course) were the meals. Assortments of every kind were brought by the dark-skinned workers, including the young lady. And although the young child had attended the school for a few short days, Laura had taken a liking to being served by others. It was a dangerous attraction, Laura knew. Being dependent on others was a tricky business. But even so, dependency was a necessary skill.
"Okay, children. To the tea room; post haste!" Mrs. Perry said after their meals had been finished and the plates were on their way to be washed. With small grumbles and huffs, they rose in an orderly fashion and shuffled out of the dining hall.
The black mantled fireplace was sufficient in warming the entirety of the tea room. The children were seated in gathered wooden chairs, all placed neatly in a rather large circle formation.
No child was exempt from reading night every Sunday, even as the youngest of individuals tended to become restless and bored with the dry literature. The small novel was passed to those who could read it, and continued around the circle as such. While Mrs. Perry played a gentle tune on a Pedal harp just outside of the circle of children, Miss Morgan observed the children from a high-backed chair that sat away from the fireplace.
"And so the young lady slept, many thoughts plaguing her, as her father's words echoed in her subconscious. She would have to put her childish things away very soon; it was entirely necessary for a good marriage..."
Most had fallen asleep in their chairs during the recited paragraphs of the first few readers; some others tried desperately to stay awake with the fear that they would sleep through their required readings. Laura waited patiently for her own turn, swinging her legs, and entertaining herself by sneaking silly faces at Susan, who sat on the opposite side of the circle. Perry's scolding gaze only stopped her occasionally. The only child who seemed to be listening attentively to whatever was being read, Laura noticed, was Mircalla, who sat as straight as a rod with dark eyes trained forward. Laura noticed this and subconsciously corrected her own posture. Laura had already taken her turn, and despite her speed-reading and occasional stumble, Laura was quite proud of managing to get through her section. She supposed that it would get easier with practice.
It circled around towards the halfway mark with 12 students already having read from the achingly boring novel.
Susan giggled at a few of the outdated terms as she read, and was given a terrifying scowl from the Dean. Susan was more than happy to pass the book on.
SarahJane was next, then Danny. Skipping over Lottie, the book was given to a pretty girl with slanted eyes and long dark hair.
'A European heiress!' Laura had imagined hopefully, after she learned the girl's name: Brittany. A chipper blonde was next, followed by Perry, and finally, the book was given to Mircalla.
Beside her, Laura heard a small huff of annoyance from another student. "Here we go again…"
Laura frowned and stared expectantly at Mircalla. Surely the dark brunette would stand with impeccable grace, lift her chin to the novel, and read aloud flawlessly with the voice of a princess to match.
Laura couldn't have been more off.
Instead of Laura's grand fantasy, Mircalla remained seated, the book laid open helplessly in her lap. Mircalla's head was down, her dark curls cascading over her shoulder and shaded her face.
She didn't utter a sound.
Laura's eyes went wide, and the honey brunette noticed that the Dean's dark eyes were trained on Mircalla with a look of barely disguised disgust.
A few seconds went by-it felt like days.
The mousy-haired 13-year-old to the left of Mircalla gave the mute brunette an apologetic look before gently taking the book into her own lap and continued from where Perry had left off.
"And so Charlotte rose from her chambers, taking care in brushing her long platinum hair many times…"
Laura continued staring at the silent girl.
Her fists were clenched on the tops of her thighs, where the book had just been, and had not yet dared to raise her eyes any further than the carpet line.
The book finished its circle, and the pupils headed to bed.
Laura's bedroom felt emptier empty every night. She grew restless, turning over more times than she could count. Laura decided that a glass of water was in order. And maybe a cookie or two. Yep, defiantly in order. A long, thin candle was her only source of lighting.
The mansion was especially interesting at night. Laura found it curious that she could still hear Mrs. Perry gently pulling at the strings of her harp, only just masking the harsh voices that emanated from the same floor.
The honey brunette's little hand fisted in the fabric of her nightgown, hesitant. The last time she'd ventured out late at night, she was met with the scalding, hellish eyes of the Dean.
Unfortunately for Laura, she heard that very voice again.
"Insufferable /child/…no better than a lobotomized vegetable!"
Laura winced. The Dean was surely speaking to a student again.
"Useless...can't even /read/...turning into a clammy rodent!"
Laura's eyes widened. Was the Dean speaking to Mircalla?
The heavy brass doors to the Dean's office were shut, the sounds just managing to seep through. The voice continued, muttering even harsher strings of words that made Laura want to cover her own ears. She couldn't even imagine what Mircalla must have been thinking. Laura suddenly felt a burst of anger. No one deserved to be spoken to in such an awful way. Not even a girl who had been rude to her since they'd met!
But… there wasn't anything she could do.
Was there?
With a determined pout and narrowed eyes, Laura rushed forward without a second thought. Her tiny fist slammed against the solid doors, but it hardly made a sound.
The voices had stopped.
Laura ceased her angry knocking.
Suddenly, she was panicking.
What had she done?! As much as she would have liked to help Mircalla, Laura wasn't sure if dying would be the most helpful thing at the moment…
Laura's heart was threatening to burst out of her ribs. And then, the doors swung open, nearly hitting Laura as she fell back and landed on her bottom.
In the doorway, with a very angry-looking Mircalla directly behind her, was Miss Morgan, staring down at Laura, the woman's pitch-black eyes caught on the candle Laura had been holding and flashed a dangerous yellow.
Laura dropped the candle onto the hardwood, where it fell with an empty thud and went out.
