Mini Monsters

Kiera's POV

Okay, so apparently, a new continent meant new rules. As I stared disconsolately at the old Victorian house three days later, I begrudgingly had to admit that the first rule was, NEVER ever go against Elsie Ballad. The building was ancient, asymmetrical and had so many creepy windows. It looked like a place where dreams went to die, not where future leaders were being molded. It felt like the gothic building was stolen from a medieval time.

“You know, I'm legally considered an adult in this country. That means I can make decisions myself and shouldn't be coerced into going to school if I don't want to. Do you know that a sixteen year old can seek emancipation?”

“Yes. But we’re not in America at the moment. We’re in Wales so the emancipation clause does not count. Also, I’m not forcing you. It's a simple agreement between two adults. You finish high school and I open a bakery.”

“What was that?” she asked while biting her lips, her eyes bright. She was trying her damndest not to laugh at me.

I’m so glad my trepidation amused her. Not.

“Nothing.” I grumbled to myself as I opened the car door of our new honda civic.

Well, not so new since mum opted for a used car so we could save a few bucks. I dragged my backpack along with me as I dawdled towards the creepy house. Whatever the intention had been when it was first built, it had certainly not been intended as an institution of learning. A mad house, probably, but definitely not a school. In a way, it's fitting. An asylum is the best place to keep monsters.

“You’ll be fine. They're just kids your age.” Mum whispered to me about twenty minutes later.

We were in the administration office of St. Patrick’s school after my details had been entered into their systems. All the payments; my tuition, books and all other necessities had been done via their website.

For a teeny tiny town, they were quite up to date with the digital world. We’d found the school online during our reluctant weekend research -the only reluctance was coming from me, not so much from mum and the nosy catwoman, Gracie. They’d both had a blast discovering the wonders of the internet- We had found the five schools in all of Llanwrtyd.

I was quite shocked to find that a town of this size had so many schools. It turned out that the town was being combined with two other towns with Llanwrtyd as the apex. In actual fact, all five made up Llanwrtyd with a population of over two thousand, but in essence, this particular town we were in was the original Lianwrtyd if you will and the other two were offshoots from people who migrated from Llanwrtyd. Even though they were acknowledged as a town in their own right, they were still part of Llanwrtyd.

Anyways, we'd had no choice but to settle on St. Patrick because it was the only school in our town -surprise surprise. It's proximity was still a good thirty minutes away though, seeing as it was on the way out of the damn town. I'm pretty certain at this point that not just the school but the town's architect were all confused people.- even after the amalgamation of Haran, Armskirk and Llan to make Llanwrtyd, our town (Llan) only had a population of nine hundred.

According to our research, St Patrick was over four hundred years old, evidenced of course by the outward appearance of the building.

"No they are not. I'm older than most of them by a year or two. And they are monsters. Actually, I'll take real monsters over them." I replied in answer to mum's statement.

"Oh, hush. Stop being so dramatic." Mum waved me off.

“Here you go, Miss Brooke.” A nasally voice cut off my attempt to make mum see reason one last time.

I cranked my head back to the door that just opened to find Mrs Crook, one of the women in the admin office walking in with a cream coloured sheet of paper in her hands and nothing else. Where were my books?

She was the one who had confirmed our online process. She looked like she was pushing sixty and still handled the computer like a pro while my mum who had just turned forty two last month didn't even know where the power on button was on a computer.

When Mrs Crook had been satisfied by what she found on her computer, she'd concluded the admission process and had stepped out to get my schedule and books.

Mrs Crook was a slim, frail woman with pale and wrinkled skin. My best guess was that she was pushing sixty, if she wasn't older, that is.

I don't think I'll like Mrs Crook much. She looked stern, like one of those beady eyed, uptight old women.

She had lectured me in much the same manner when she realized I was nineteen years old. She had been making snide comments about wasting my life away and now playing catch up when I should have been in college.

Mum had stepped in and gently, but firmly set her straight. I loved when my mum stood up for me. Mrs Crook had been quite silent after that. But she did offer me the option of just writing a GED exam and I would have accepted it -anything to avoid dealing with the mini monsters- but mum had declined. This was one of those times when I didn't like her assertiveness.

"This is your class schedule. Your locker number is three hundred and eight." She announced, handing me the sheet of paper.

"But where are my books?" I replied as I accepted the paper.

"You can get your books from the front desk on your way out."

"Oh, okay." I remained sitting, unsure what to do next.

My stomach clenched painfully as I realized that this might be it. I'd have to go to class now. Probably having read my mind, Mrs Crook chose that moment to announce, "Off you go to class now. Today's your first day and you can't afford to give your teachers the impression that you are a tardy student." She admonished sternly.

I huffed, but picked up my backpack without any comment.

"I'll be back to pick you once school is over. Don't worry, you are going to have a great day and make lots of friends, you won't want the day to end."

I spied Mrs Crook glancing between us with a disapproving stare.

"You can go now Mrs Brooke, school closes at three, you can pick her up at the front door then" Mrs Crook concluded with a derisive curl of her lip.

I flushed hotly at the derision she wasn't even bothering to hide. She thought I was a wimp because my mum was still dropping me off at school. How many teenagers these days still have their parents dropping and picking them from school?

"Oh, okay. Thank you ma'am." Mum replied softly, her earlier bravery gone.

"Uh, mum, that will not be necessary." I interjected.

"Really? How do you plan on getting back home?"

"Um, I'll find my way."

Mum frowned at me in confusion. "There are no taxis here and it's too far to walk."

“There’s a bus station about a mile from here that goes into town.” Mrs Crook interjected from behind her mahogany desk.

“See? I can take the bus back home.”

“But we just moved here. How will you find your way from wherever the bus drops you? You don’t even have a phone!” Mum exclaimed worriedly.

“You don't have a phone?” Mrs Crook declared snidely. You’d think she just found out that I peed on my body.

“Isn’t there a school bus that she can take?”

“Unfortunately, no. All our students have their own cars. None of them needs their hands held.”

Ouch. Meanie. I was certain that when she was in high school she was a bully. Just like Tamara and her cronies.

"There has to be shortcuts somewhere, right?" I turned my attention to mum and ignored her.

Her frown etched deeper. "And you want to test it out by getting hopelessly lost? Oh God, what if you are never found and your father finds me…….”

“Mum? MUM!” Mum continued hyperventilating, her gasps getting shorter and her face turning purple even as I tried getting her attention.

“Look at me. I’m right here, I haven't gone anywhere.”

I patted her softly on the back puntil she stopped making those horrible gasping noises. Mrs Crook only stared disinterestedly while my mum had a meltdown.

“What is this business about your father? You said he passed away.” She queried dryly.

I spared a moment to glare at her. “I don’t think it's polite to rub salt in my mothers wounds. It's obvious she hasn't gotten over his death, why are you asking her more questions about it?”

Her superior stare turned unsure and she looked at my mum again. “Do you need me to call a doctor?”

“No. A glass of water will be enough.” I assured her firmly.

Thankfully, she got the hint and got up off her behind and went to the small fridge in the corner. She returned with a glass of water mere seconds later.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you.” Mum managed to get out a while later.

“You are welcome Mrs Brooke.” She intoned. “If you are feeling better Mrs Brooke, I have some other things to attend to and your daughter really needs to get to class.”

My first impression of her had just been confirmed. She was an unfeeling old meanie.

“Of course Mrs Crook, my deepest apologies for taking up so much of your time.”

Mum took me by the hand and walked me out of her office.

“Are you sure you are okay mum? We can head back home if you prefer and we can ditch this school nonsense. Do you know how many rich Americans there are who are school dropouts?"

Her eyes lit up again. "I don't know any. You're finishing high school missy. Then you're going to college. See you at three.” And with that she freaking strutted out of the school.

She was smiling again, her earlier distress forgotten. I considered that a mission accomplished. My satisfied smile was wiped off when I walked down the hall opposite the direction my mum had taken and past an unmanned metal door to find myself at the entrance of what appears to be a maze.