In front of me, loomed Verona High, the mansion hovered proudly behind enormous creaky iron gates, flanked by row of maple trees, swaying gently to summer wind. Ivy grew through the
e my school and boarding home as mom spoke, "Magnificent is
ted herself, not being able to deal with the pain of losing dad. And as time passed by, her sorrow grew more profound. I, on the other hand, never fel
nd said, "Sara, let's move." And I knew what she meant. "Yes, mom. Let's move on.
b as a real estate agent and I was here, in front of V
there were heavy lines around her mouth, lines I'd never seen before. She was almost forty, but she could usually pass for ten ye
busy stuff. But all I could see was numbers. I hung my head low as I walked swiftly towards the florescent-lit lobby of Verona High school. There by the lobby, stood a h
ll gritty voice
I didn't have much of a choice. After we moved, we'd seen difficult days. I wanted to giv
ing a few millimeters down her beaky nose. Then she curtly said, "Very well, Miss Valdez, I am Miss Helen and you are in room number 502. Cly. But, let me repeat the absolute rules again; No roaming around the hallways after ten. Students are not allowed to leave the school ground after six and they are absolutely not allowed to go to the west wing of the third floor if they don't wa
ed. The stairs were long and winded and there was no sign of an elevator. I looked up the st
y ears would fall off. I turned around to set my eyes upon a huge barrel-chested man with ruddy cheeks. T
." I m
bbed my trunk and snatched my duf
ou would call an elevator, but not quite. How should I put this, the elevator looked like it was built hundreds of years ago, rusty and dusty.
forbidden to use it for classes or other activities," the
the bags and said, "Dinner is at nine.
r and pens and the other empty. A few shelves were pushed against the walls and filled with books. Some books sat on the floor in front of the selves, some on top of the messy pile of comforter that lay on the bed opposite to mine. And my eyes finally rested upon the
I tossed off my duffle bag on the
She
I re
ffered in a small voice. She seemed skeptical of
ed back unenthusiastically. With that I climbed up my b
red. I had been tired for a while, not the kind of tired that needs a goodnight's sleep. But a k
heard from the oth
ea
know. But you seemed so deep in sleep that I di
"Are you going to us
d a toothy smile and I retur
s only grew more prominent after my dad died. I just didn't need to
of Verona come to life. Smoke-formed numbers everywhere as people passed me by. 'Of course, everyone has to die one day,' I thought. But it still didn't ease my nerves to know the date of
this secret to my grave
without