𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚎? {𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝙳𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚘𝚗}

'ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟʟᴛᴏɴ,

The resounding echo of bagpipes was not enough to hide the loud thudding in my chest. Welton sure had a flair for the dramatics. A clutter of students marched down the stairs into the church. At least, the interior was tasteful. The boys broke off to the sides, and soon after, the headmaster walked towards an old man holding a candle.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys, the light of knowledge." The organ started playing once more, as the old man passed down the light from his candle to the first row of boys with trembling hands. The boy lit the next candle and so on. I scratched the back of my hand at the exclusion but bit my tongue.

Neil took his seat beside me and squeezed my hand, offering silent comfort. As if being the odd girl out in an all-boys school wasn't enough, I was the shunned girl.

"One hundred years ago, in 1859, 41 boys sat in this room and were asked the same question that greets you at the start of each semester. Gentlemen, what are the four pillars?"

The boys suddenly get up in unison. Neil stood up and I looked at my father. He shook his head no. "Tradition, honor, discipline, excellence."

They quickly sat down again.

The Headmaster, Mr. Nolan, then goes onto some more history of Welton. He then introduced the new head of the English Department - Mr. John Keating. The man looked polished and had a kind smile on his face. I wondered why would someone leave Chester to teach in this suffocating ward, especially when he graduated out of there himself.

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"Lovely ceremony," A woman bid goodbye to Mr. Nolan.

Father approached Mr. Nolan next, shaking his hand firmly. "Gale."

"Tom." He replied, curt.

Both men looked similar - cold, stony with no regard for life itself.

"Good to see you again. This is Neil, my son, and Della, the daughter." 

I didn't miss the dissociative tone, and the way Mr. Nolan tensed at the mention of me. 

"Hello, Mr. Nolan." I tried to match their clipped tone.

"Neil. We expect great things from you this year." 

Typical. I was expected to behave and play nice while they treated me like a gutter worm. I excused myself, and they couldn't look more relieved.

"Wait at my room? I'll show you around." Neil looked concerned. His instinct to protect me clashed with his need to be an obedient son. The latter always won.

"Thank you," I smiled and backed away. A twinge of guilt shocked me because I was leaving him to the vultures. My instinct to take him with me did not win either.

I was familiar with the surroundings, having visited Neil a few times before. My heart broke for the newcomers who wailed to their mothers about wanting to go back home. I didn't blame them. Be good, was the default response on their tongue. No love, no comfort, just expectations and burdening their poor children with them.

Being alienated had its perks, I suppose. I had my own room, with a washroom installed. God forbid a girl even look at an unclad boy.

I made a beeline to my brother's room, expecting to meet a new face. The boy wasn't here yet, I hoped I could judge him before he met my brother but it'd have to wait. After arranging the room to pass the time, I heard a commotion from the hallway and the door opened.