Legacy

Ashley: Aries

Many believe there is nothing left to learn, being at our day and age.

But those of us that assume this have obviously looked everywhere for information but one: up.

We forgot long ago of the stars, converting to science and religion. Years ago they even had special temples and buildings for religions, they say. All over the world. And some still believe this. Believe that the only thing up above is our God. But what did God create in the heavens? Stars.

And as is on heaven, shall be on earth.

I opened my eyes, groggily, I reached for my glasses and put them on my face.

Slowly getting out of bed, I stretched and went through my closet. Most of what it contained I wasn't allowed to wear on campus, including jeans and (mostly black) shirts and sweatshirts. Due to our uniforms, black and red for me and most of the rest of my hall, plaid skirts that came up just above the knees. Black blazer. The only thing that I was pleased of was my school shirt. It wasn't baggy but wasn't tight, and I always kept it a crisp white. Despite the state of my messy dorm. Everything else was measly acceptable.

"Dude, give it back!"

"Nope. Gotta catch me, Sasquatch!"

I groaned internally as two guys pushed past me, one having the other's red and black tie, their matching blazers flying behind them. I pursed my lips and locked my dorm, pressing as close to the wall as I could so the rushing students of Maxmillion University raging around and behind me wouldn't knock me senseless. Aries Hall was the second craziest on campus in the mornings.

No. Not only in the mornings. In general.

"Ashley Cornell?"

I whipped around, and pushed my hair out of my eyes, straightening up.

Mrs. Waters looked up from her clipboard, her pale blue-purple eyes challenging behind her similarly colored wire-frame glasses, whose frames were about as skinny as she was. Her bones stuck out beneath her sweater, and she lifted her pale face (not too many wrinkles, surprisingly), making her graying brown ponytail swing behind her slightly. She arched an eyebrow.

"Yes? No? Answer me, I don't have all day." She demanded.

"Oh, um, yes." I shouldered my bag and cleared my throat. "That's me."

I heard a group of girls passing us laugh, flipping their hair with a red paint streak for spirit week. One pouted at me from behind Mrs. Waters.

"Oh, is goth girl finally gonna talk?" She let out another girlish laugh. "Better late than never. Stitch."

They laughed off down the hall, Mrs. Waters's eyes boring into them as they passed. "Stitch" was a name they had taken from two older stories we were made to read as children. Stitch was an alien in an old cartoon, and he hardly talked. When he did, it was all raspy and alien-y. The second story was some dystopian novel, where the girl was called "Stiff" because of her heritage. Sound familiar? Yeah. Thought so.

She cursed. "Those kids. Should act like the adult they are. Shame Michael has them, I'd straighten them out at once." She turned back to me. "I need to see you in the main teachers' office."

"Oh," I nodded, though the lump in my throat was apparent. "Okay, am I in some kind of trouble?"

Mrs. Waters made a sound between a scoff and a cough. "That remains to be seen. Come."

She pushed against the students in the hall, them parting like the Red Sea as if she was Moses. I stepped close behind her, looking down so I didn't step on the heel of her gray-purple flats, and so the others didn't have a chance to cut me off from her. Internally, I wondered and panicked at the same time. Mrs. Waters was a Taurus teacher, in charge of keeping up with and keeping order with the Taurus students that also went to Maxmillion. She was one of the twelve: Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Pisces. A teacher for each section of students. A teacher for each sign. Mrs. Waters was known to be tough, like most of her sign was, and if she came up here to fetch me from Aries (most of which she despised) Hall, then it must have been important.