2: Taylor

I've lived with my Aunt Doris and her son Zavery since I was 7 years old. I was told that my dad went off the radar in war and that my mum had went missing with a new lover while my dad was away. I knew that mum never had a lover after my dad went to war, they were both committed to each other like no other I'd ever seen before.

When officer Gregory Malroy found me at the edge of the forest behind our house, he told me that dad had gone missing and mum had ran off with this so called lover, but I knew it was all complete bullshit. I was in the house in a tiny cupboard under the stairs when my parents were murdered. They thought it was an armed robbery, but we all knew after the man leading the operation spoke that that was no armed robbery.

They were there to collect the money that my parents owed. If they couldn't pay I was collateral damage. They were supposed to take me that night because they knew that my parents weren't raking in much money. With mum working three jobs and dad going away to war it just wasn't enough. So they were killed for it. They were murdered without any remorse or regret. Those men had shot my parents then raided the house for hours looking for me. What they didn't know was that there was a secret door under the stairs that also lead outside towards the forest. "that cupboard will come in handy one day" , my father use to say.

Indeed it did. But with the price that I'd be homeless and without parents.

I shake my head getting rid of the horrid memory as I watch Zavery walk away grumbling.

"Asshole".

Ever since I could remember, Zavery had always acted like he had a stick up his ass. He was spoiled and had a loving mother that would take a bullet for him, he had everything a kid could ever want, so I couldn't fathom why he turned out like this. I don't blame Aunt Doris for the way he turned out though, she did what she could to raise him as a single mother. I know it's not easy, and to top it off she had to raise me after the murder of my parents.

Sighing I turn to walk out the front door after looking at the clock only to run into Aunt Doris, startling the poor woman.

"Sorry Aunt Doris, I didn't mean to startle you"

Taking deep breaths and moving her hand from her chest, she smiles and waves her hand in dismissal "it's OK child, don't worry. It was my fault. But you should hurry to school before your late", she pats my shoulder and walks back into the kitchen.

I laugh and grab my keys saying a quick bye over my shoulder as I walk out the door to my 2018 hyundai santa fe active. It's nothing fancy like one of those muscle cars that the main characters usually have in some of the books you read, but I was happy with it because it was left to me from my deceased parents. Nearly one of the only things I'd gotten from them.

Starting the car I drive out of the drive way and into on coming traffic as I make my way to Clifton View College. One of the places that can be classified as ones personal hell.

Clifton View College was founded in the 1800's by a man named Brian Fayette and his wife Gertrude Fayette. The school was built from the ground up on an old grave site that hadn't been used in many years. The graves of the occupants at the site were moved to another graveyard quite far from the land the school was to be built on. After the removal of the gravesites, Brian started building Clifton View Collage straight away, he had no care for the deceased that had rested in the very spot the school was being built on.

Brian later died many years after Clifton View Collage was founded, and following him soon after was Gertrude. Gertrude had more respect for the deceased considering majority of her family had been buried in that very graveyard. She'd given her husband a hard time about it but he insisted that they continue on and that the deceased would be better off in the other graveyard. Gertrude reluctantly agreed and hence Clifton View Collage was built.

Looking at it now as I searched for a parking space, the school hadn't really changed. It was the same old red brick building with various windows and classrooms scattered here and there. The same courtyard with park benches for pupils to sit outside and enjoy the sun. And the same equipment and furniture, though they did upgrade on a few things.

Looking out the window, I puff my cheeks out and open the car door. Grabbing my bag from the passenger seat I stand up and turn around only to come face to face with Tahlia Clinton.

Oh boy.