The Shadowhunters

Tessa Gray didn't know what to expect when she transferred schools. From the loud bustle of New York City to the dreary and rainy

London, Tessa was always slightly shy. So to shy Tessa, moving to the most prestigious school in the world, the highest rated academy in the whole universe probably, and the

home of the rich and famous was probably a little intimidating. Okay. A lot intimidating.

The Institute was home to the wealthy, the beautiful and the talented - and Tessa Gray was entering that school.

Of course, Tessa wasn't rich or beautiful, but she was talented and had scored a scholarship for English Literature and Creative Writing. Her mother, Elizabeth Gray, insisted on

sending Tessa there. Not for the good of Tessa, but for the prestige and the fame. Elizabeth Gray was probably more focused on the neighbours back in New York, fawning over

Elizabeth's young daughter.

It really was a good opportunity for Tessa as well, though. The Institute focused on your strengths, plus the basic things you need to pass high school - like maths. It was like

university in a way. You majored in your strengths and your minors were the mandatory things you had to take to enter university.

Tessa had seen the brochures and pamphlets that her mother had brought home. There were many different classes you could take. There was English Literature and Creative Writing, of course, and there was a class for modeling, music, fighting, painting and many other things. At the Institute, thousands of people - maybe millions - applied, and only

select few get to attend. The school wasn't as big as it could have been and it was very picky with its students.

It was every parent's dream for their child to enter the Institute and Elizabeth Gray's dreams had come true - materializing in Tessa.

Tessa eyed herself in the mirror unhappily. The grayness of London were already taking a toll on her, taking Tessa's limited colour away from her cheeks, making her look pale and

colourless. Tessa was taller than most of the girls her age, though her height didn't make her graceful. She looked awkward in the school uniform. Tessa had no idea why you would

wear a skirt that went down to your mid­thighs in the middle of the London weather and knee length stockings with two gold stripes going across the top.

Honestly. Why not just wear a skirt that goes to your ankles? Why reveal that strip of skin on your thigh? Tessa rolled her eyes at the stupidity of it all. Admittedly, she liked the

gold and red plaid skirt, though hated the length.

The crisp white dress shirt, which her mother had ironed several times painstakingly, was almost see­through. Tessa wore a formal black blazer, with one button buttoned at the

center. Her mother had forced her to dress impeccably, saying that good first impressions were important. Tessa missed her old school in New York, where she could have worn

sweatpants and no one would have cared.

Her name stitched onto the left breast pocket declared her name: Theresa Gray. But Theresa was such a long name. Three syllables! So Tessa resorted to calling herself Tessa

instead.

"Tessa, honey! It's time to leave!" Elizabeth called from the bottom of the stairs. Tessa eyed her room for her bag, frantically looking around for it. Boxes half­opened were

scattered around her room. She hadn't finished unpacking yet. Tessa snatched up her backpack from her bed and rushed down the stairs.

She was greeted with her mother, smiling widely at her. Elizabeth's smile was so wide that it looked like it hurt. Tessa wasn't sure about any of this though.