Mirror Change (Chapter One)

A Chapter by melty

The introduction. Rosalind meets new faces and possibly a new friend.

The wheels of Rosalind's suitcase clicked against the pavement leading up to Lakeview Girls' Preparatory. She read over the pamphlet with her parents not too long ago, at that time caring only about the glossy paper it was printed on. She never thought she would enter the grounds herself on this cloudy Thursday. The walk from the nearest train station lasted a good 20 minutes, and with the sounds from the suitcase and her aching legs, her mood was souring up. But she arrived, and greeting her was a shapely woman, donning a frilled shirt done up to the toppest button. She stood poised right in the middle of the doors, her fake nails peeking out from her folded arms.

'You are Rosalind Jung, correct?'

Rosalind gave a somewhat firm nod in response. She never quite liked hearing her full name aloud. Those that knew her called her Rosie. But she knew nobody here.

The lady's face wrinkled into a scowl, then spun round to have the doors be opened before her.

'Let us get going, I will show you to your dormitory where you will sleep.'

Rosalind pulled her suitcase up the steps and followed the woman right up a spiralled staircase and past many classrooms. It was like the pictures; glossy floorboards wedged together to form a pattern, the walls stripped, brushed and polished to a brilliant white, and windows edged the right side of the corridors with every metre. Rosalind's suitcase clacked down another staircase and squeezed by a door. Her parents found one that could and would fit her entire wardrobe, shoes and all. But if it meant not having to watch the lady look back with disgust whenever it made a noise, she would be better off with one half the size. Now just a few steps beyond her, placed between two rows of carefully planted trees was a building with a gold plaque stapled on its arched entrance.

'This is the main dormitory.' the lady said, walking right past the arch to stand by the doors, that were also arched. 'Once you've unpacked, report to the main hall immediately.'

Rosalind meagerly followed, this time carrying her suitcase to avoid upsetting the lady even further. The doors opened, pulled by two fellow students who avoided eye contact. Once their job was done, they scuttled out of sight, completely passing over Rosalind's attempt to greet them.

'Could you save that for later and follow me?' She gestured her over, her bangles dangling from her wrists.

'Yes miss.'

Each room was titled with a number, and there was a rectangular panel of tinted glass that sat underneath. Somewhere near to the end of the first corridor, the lady stopped and from her pocket brought a key into sight.

'Your room is Number 158.' With no warning she reached for Rosalind's right arm, pulling it towards her, and dropped the key in her palm. A red string was gingerly attached.

'I suppose that you no longer require my help,' She dusted her hands off, her nails appearing like talons. 'There is a map in your room, use that to find your way.'

Rosalind watched her make her way back down the corridor, up until she disappeared behind the doors. 'I never got her surname.' she muttered, fiddling with the lock to her room. Once she heard the click, turned the handle and entered, suitcase first.

It felt like a miniature dollhouse, the ones she played with as a child. A wooden bed, a desk and chair and wardrobe all in this one small room. Like the lady said, a lone map was inside, sat on top of the desk.

'Where should I start?' Rosalind thought, prising the lock off her suitcase to unpack. Her room back at home was barren, all her belongings currently compacted in front of her. She gently unwound one of her prized possessions, a signed poster of a famous actress. She recalled the day she received it, hopping on and off multiple buses to the event and gripping the poster in her hands like a sword.

She tacked it down, just above her bed and she set her focus on her clothes. In school hours, she would wear the uniform, but for all other hours, it was her normal clothes. The rules weren't all that restricting, but skirts and dresses could only sit on the knees at a minimum, likewise to her parents' rules. She fixed her school hat that went crooked, and pushed her suitcase to the far corner. The map used that same glossy paper, and was big enough to be a table spread for her desk. It detailed every floor and every room in every building. Already highlighted in neon green was her room, and then an arrow crossed over to the building which in cursive someone had written, 'Hall'. Rosalind assumed it was the lady from earlier. Despite this, she couldn't quite make out the exact directions, although she figured it had to be somewhere up north. She left the map in its unfolded state and slid the key into her pinafore's pocket. Giving a final look at her handiwork, there was a faint resemblance to what she had back at home, and it made her stomach twist into knots. She turned around, and left.

Now outside, a light wind began to blow. Rosalind's ponytail gently swayed, as the ribbon it was tied up with. Having been so focused to keep up with the lady's pace, the scenery was swept under her attention. Now, she saw the evergreen trees and the cobbled stones, the limestone architecture and the preened flower beds. There was no denying; Lakeview was beautiful. Rosalind spent most of her train journey eyes to the window, the farmland that spanned the landscape, the stretch of the sky. It reined her in by the mind, and kept her there until the last stop.

Her earlier decision was weighted with many doubts, yet soon enough the hall came into sight. Her lips curled to a smile, and when she came within reach opened the door just enough to get by. Inside, she was met with carpeted floors in a deep red, and antique portraits hung proudly on the walls; again painted white. The further she walked, the more she caught the odd, stifled giggle and subsequent hush. Right before she took another step, another woman appeared from behind another set of doors. She was dressed in monochrome, and her height was further accentuated by her high heels.

She said, 'This way please.' and held one door open. Rosalind entered what was a hall packed full of students. They were all seated, and by the soft thud of the door all their eyes darted towards her.

The lady bent to whisper in her ear, 'Once you've made a verbal introduction, you may sit.'

Rosalind lowered her head, unable to withhold eye contact. 'My name is Rosalind Jung, and I am 13 years old.', was all she said.

'Sufficient, you may sit.'

There was an empty seat to the far back. Head faced down, she walked past rows of students, unabashed in their snickering this time around. Right beside her seat was a girl. Her skin was a deep bronze, her button nose squidged between her cheeks. Her mass of soft-black curls was swept into two little buns that sat on each side, and her lips widened into a grin the moment her and Rosalind's eyes locked. Rosalind jerked her head back in surprise, and held her hand up to wave. The girl waved back, and patted the seat beside her. Once she eventually sat, the girl spoke.

'So Rosalind?' Her grin revealed her buckteeth, 'Cool name.'

'Thanks.' 'So what's yours?'

'Orla Winnows, came here last year.' She hunched over and rested her head on her hands. 'I was like you, but way worse.'

'What happened?'

Her face creased up, 'I thought that shouting at the top of my voice was a good thing to do.' she said. 'I know way better now.'

'So what did you think of this place when you got here?'

'Thought it was nice and all, pretty trees and what not.' Orla looked at the countless others before them both. 'Sometimes I think some parents send their kids here because they can't handle them.' She pointed to a group of four, 'Those girls are horrid; whatever you say, they'll laugh back.'

'There were people like that in my old school, Rosalind replied. 'You can't really avoid them.'

'Yeah, but they're a pain in the butt!'

Rosalind chuckled in agreement, and Orla joined in.

She said after the laughter, 'You're really doing well for your first day.

'Am I?'

'Trust me. I've seen too many people in bits here, 'specially when they get a call.'

'Thanks, I guess,' Rosalind paused. 'to be honest I didn't really think I'd be here.'

'Nobody does; it's up to our parents at the end of the day.'

Rosalind thought back to what her parents told her a day ago, hours before she left . Their countless words of advice; practical to most, though to her were filled with their concern and their care. She wanted to come to understand their intentions, something that she couldn't get from what they said alone.

'First off.' Olga's words brought Rosalind back to her senses. 'You need to join a club.'

'Is it compulsory?'

'No, but it makes life here at lot easier,' She pointed to herself. 'example, I'm in the Baton Club.'

'Baton Club?'

'Yeah, you spin stick thingies and stuff.'

'Do you think I could join?'

'Sure, we don't have a lot of members as it is!'

'Why's that?'

She groaned, 'Everyone goes for hockey, it's the thing to do here.'

A shrill bell rung and the chatter came to a halt. The high heeled lady stood centred in between two others.

'Classes will commence shortly, you may leave only when you are told to go.' she said. Her voice was commanding and stark and easily reached the right-top to the bottom-end of the hall. Orla held one hand over her mouth.

'Do you know what class you have?' she said. Rosalind shook her head. From the front tables came a clutter of noises; screeching, clambering, and shuffling. The stood pupils by instinct formed vertical lines and marched through the doors, now wide open.

Orla spoke again, 'You need to ask somebody! Do you want to be late on your first day?'

A slip-up this early could prove deadly. Rosalind consumed her fears with a gulp and held her arm high, where it sank into more of a bend. A man once leant by the wall, headed towards the two girls in strides. His patented leather shoes reflected the morning light, had corduroy right down to his trousers and wore a black tie that reached the second button of his blazer.

'What do you need help with?' he asked, towering over them.

Rosalind looked up, her hand lowered and after a deep breath said, 'Where is my first lesson?'

'Your name was Rosalind Jung?'

'Yes.'

He pulled out a device, and a few taps and swipes later said 'Therefore your first lesson is with Mrs. Axel.'

Orla interrupted, 'You're with me!'

The man glided his eyes over to the bunned girl. 'So you would be willing to guide her there?'

'Yes sir, leave it to me!' Orla and Rosalind exchanged looks, the two elated.

'Very well.' He swerved round, straightened his suit and followed another line of students.

'Ain't we a lucky bunch!'

'I guess we are.'

'Mrs. Axel is such a nice teacher. She never gets mad if you forget your homework, ever!'

Rosalind wondered whether Orla did that often; the way she harped on about it. Nevertheless she was relieved, 'I'll keep that in mind.' she said.

They too got up when called and Orla went in front; she often turned back and passed smiles whenever she could. Rosalind returned the favour and the two continued this right until they reached the classroom. Inside 20 or so desks were ordered in a square fashion and at the front stood two whiteboards and the teacher's desk where a computer rested on top. The students took their places and sat, Rosalind having watched them. There was no empty seat beside Orla, who noticed this. She hopped up then said, 'Hold on a second.' She got the girl’s attention on the right of her and they chatted for a while. After a nod, the girl gathered her belongings and walked to the other open desk. Rosalind was surprised at how readily this student had agreed to move. She wanted to give her thanks. The days that built towards her transfer were filled with cards and tears. Her bouquet of flowers languished at home, the fallen petals had since made a moat. On her phone were texts sent to her friends from three days prior, yet to be answered. For a farewell to be a farewell, something or someone has to be left behind.

'Over here!' Orla presented the desk with outstretched arms. Rosalind giggled, then also took her place and sat. By then, came the unlocked door and Mrs. Axel entered. Her auburn hair was a bun adorned in braids with no strand missed. A chiffon blouse in white, opposed by a pencil skirt in brown. The same went for her shoes, a shade or two darker. Her nose was a slope from the side and eyes a mossy green. Rosalind found her pretty.

'Good morning class.' she said.

'Good morning Mrs. Axel.' the class said back. Rosalind joined in at the end.

'As you already are aware, Rosalind is a new student here so I expect you all to give her a Lakeview welcome.'

'Yes Mrs. Axel.' they said back.

'Good, let us begin with today's first subject.' Mrs. Axel, marker in hand took to the board and drew three images. One of a rose, the other of a lady, the last a question mark. A plus sign linked the first two, while an equals linked the last. Pen capped and work done, she turned to the class, 'Now can anyone take a guess on what this means?' she asked. A field of arms shot up. Orla wasn't one of them; instead she had drawn things of her own. A fresh page she flicked over to was now the home of fluffy, dancing bunnies. It was very cute.

'Why don't we give the newcomer a test?' Mrs. Axel spun the marker between her fingers, 'Rosalind, what do you think?'

Rosalind straightened up for composure sake, and gave an answer. 'A simile, miss.'

'And what may that simile be?'

She gave it a second. 'The woman was pretty as a rose.'

Mrs. Axel had a smile on, 'Correct. You're a quick thinker.'

She resumed to her explanation. 'Similes serve purpose in many written pieces. We compare in our everyday, the man to the rain, the rain to the grass. Turn to who's next to you. What do you compare them with?'

Orla said to Rosalind, 'You're like autumn to me.' She laughed afterwards.

Rosalind turned bashful.