Amber Eyes

ONE

❝The greatest deception that men suffer is from their own opinions.❞

— Leonardo da Vinci

I trust my own views on the world more than others'.

All the opinions I've developed in the sixteen and a half years of my life are based on my own experiences, judgements and knowledge. I'm more than just confident in what I can do. I know my own limits, I know them because I know myself the best. Some may mistake self confidence with overconfidence but that is not the case with me. Knowing my abilities, I can say that I'm better than most people my age.

That being said, when I had given the entrance exam for the Redville Academy of Arts, I had no doubts I'd get in. I knew that every question I'd attempted was one hundred percent correct. I hadn't attempted a few because I was tired and I had no intention of scoring one hundred percent on an entrance examination for a school I wasn't going to for the sole purpose of studying.

I just had to get enough to get in.

And I did.

I got more than enough, in fact.

Despite leaving a lot of questions unsolved, I'd managed to score above ninety five easily. I had scoffed when my acceptance letter had arrived at the door. I had broken all records. I wasn't surprised. My mother wasn't bothered enough to check the score. She didn't want me to leave in the first place but she didn't know me - she didn't know that I wasn't my elder sister, her ideal daughter who listens to her. I was her younger daughter and I got what I wanted no matter what.

A simple proof was the fact that I am now sitting at the auditorium all alone in the corner. My mother didn't come with me to the orientation just like I had expected. She hates this place but not as much as I do.

The chairman is a man with chestnut skin and neatly cut dark hair. He is of average height, wearing a blue formal suit that people would normally wear for business dinners. He's rich, I guess, which is pretty obvious since he's the chairman of one of the most famous schools across the world. Students from all over the world try to get in but there's only a hundred and sixty spots for each year. That's why me scoring that high and maintaining over a ten percent difference between the second rank and me is a big deal here.

No one's ever done that and I doubt they will.

"We, at Redville," the chairman, Arlo Liamme, said, "aim to provide you the best possible education that will help you in future and give you a proper stage to display your talents and polish them. That being said, we put equal amounts of focus into academics and your chosen programs so you can decide what to pursue in life during the next three years."

I wonder how many times he's spoken these words and how many people have actually heard them since looking around, I can clearly see that the parents are the only ones interested in this talk. I've been sitting here for over an hour now and I'm tired of listening to this over and over again. Right now, it was the sixth time I'd pointed out the words 'We, at Redville'.

The orientation concludes with Arlo repeating everything he said in short. I sigh in relief when I realise it's over. Orientations are pure torture. Everything that Arlo had said out loud had already been mentioned on the school website, acceptance mail, and the school brochure.

"I'd hand over the stage to Miss Roma, who will take you all to the dorms. Classes start tomorrow morning." With that, he leaves the stage and a tall woman with her light brown hair tight up in a neat bun walks in, a file in her hand. She wears a light pink pencil skirt with a coat of the same colour and a white shirt underneath. She has a calm vibe around her.

She walks to the podium and clears her throat before beginning to speak. "I'd like the parents to part with the students and leave the auditorium in an orderly fashion." The whole auditorium erupts into chatter immediately with the parents asking their kids to behave and be good and the kids either saying that they'll miss them too or being embarrassed by the sloppy forehead kisses.

In the next seven minutes or so, the auditorium is empty. Then, Roma starts to ask the students to walk out and I feel the relief spreading over my body before I grab my bag and follow the others. No one's allowed to walk away on their own, which I thought was obvious since the campus is so big that it's easy to get lost.

"Now then, follow me," Roma smiles warmly at the students before turning away and starting to walk straight. I notice the other teachers wearing their identity cards and walking around us, trying to make sure that no one walks off somewhere. Roma starts to tell about the various places we pass by, enthusiasm dripping in her voice. I would have been a bit more interested in it if it wasn't for the orientation assembly taking away most of my energy already.

In about fifteen minutes, we reach outside something called 'Minerva'.

Ah, the goddess of wisdom and art. And war.

"Minerva is the dorm complex here," Roma explains, entering the area. "There are three buildings with four floors each. One for each year. Each floor is allotted to one of the classes. Your stuff has already been placed at your allotted rooms."

She stops walking in front of a building that has a '1' written on it. "This is your dorm building," she continues, "Make a straight line and tell your name at the counter for your keys. This is where you'll live for the next few years so you guys better get along since there won't be any changes to the room or roommates. Today's a great opportunity to get to know your classmates, and there will also be a welcome party thrown by your seniors for you."

"A welcome party?" Someone says.

Roma nods, finally entering the building and walking behind the counter where another woman sat, going through a list. "Yes, that's right," she says. "It's a tradition around here. Much like the farewell parties that the juniors throw for their graduating seniors." Her voice was surprisingly loud enough for everyone to hear.

I hear people begin to talk about how exciting the concept of a good welcome party is. People have started to talk and make friends and I'm just standing here. I already know I won't approach anyone directly. I won't force conversations because that's not what I'm here for.

The reason I've come here... it does not require me to make friends unless necessary.

"Start coming in front of the counter for your keys one by one!" Roma calls out.

With this, our dorm lives officially begin.