Beguile

Chapter 3: Part 2

Our class, our whole class was announced to have passed the requirements and allowed to enter the Hall of Perfection.

Called as geniuses, and deemed as perfect.

And now, we're on our way to become more than perfection.

Our class in divided into two, instructed to form a line and to follow the teacher as he leads the way.  It's a sudden event, and I would rather be attending his History Class and learn about the achievements and deaths of the past royalty. We were already on that part- the idea is much better than walking with no shade in the middle of the high summer. 

It felt like hours since we step out from the building, the quick strides I had manage to keep up with the line turned slow and lousy, and the stink of my own body, all sweat from the afternoon walk is enough to make my nose crumble.

When at the distance clump of trees came into view, I almost ruin the organized assembly of almost-perfect students, I wanted to run but I manage to force myself to move along with the slow current. I swipe away the sweat that trickles down my forehead, only to realize that the hot flowing wind is filtered out by another with fresh details as it passes through my ear's edges. The foreboding sunrays are gone, and instead of the open field of pavements and bricks, large menacing trees decorated the area and my shoes steps over soft dirt.

Where we are? I don't know.

But as we enter an unfamiliar gate, yet so beautiful as if naturally huge bushes that is carved by nature. I already know, this is the way towards perfection.

However, they had warned us again and again that danger dwells behind the large gates that surrounds the school, the wilderness that might mull over moving bodies.

No wonder. I guess. I don't remember but they said students came here through private planes. No one goes out, no one enters, just the academe, moving in circles like the Alcatraz. One island but holds hundreds of the unfavorable.

Pass the trees beholds a magnificent cabin, its' color glistening under the streaks of sunlight that able to sneaks its way from the swarm of heavy leaves. It covers the sky, the air cooler, a clean natural shade, but everywhere... everywhere is much much darker. 

This school clearly addresses its honor. From the distance, the cabin displays a simple and elegant prestige, a dark Brownwood that lightly matches the environment as if planned as mirage. Even with mud on our shoes, the group is unbothered still, big surprises are hard to come by. Excitement bubbled out of the area, and when someone slips I didn't bother to look back on what's expected. Because I too can be surprised, can be bewildered, and for a moment, can be tangled into lost confusion.

"Are you ready kids?" the young teacher, Mr. Josh Anderson, mimics the spongebob intro. He turned to us, smiling, proud of his own silly jokes whilst dimples on both cheeks deepens. The little sun ray that manages to pass through trees and leaves are able to leave a mini spotlight just for him. Not fair! Black hair that contrasted his white flawless skin, jaw so sharp that might cut through anything, and tall like models on runway. He's way gorgeous, he's posed a literal model teacher.

The girls giggled, and the boys- immature and freeloaders- just sighs defeatedly.

When we entered, I'm a little surprise. Though, it is like woods stacks to recreate a two-floor building, the knock on the walls says otherwise. I knock on it again, to make sure, despite it all the sound is still the same- like metal that screams when met with another object.

It is a classroom still, but elegance plasters everywhere. But the hard steel subtly surrounding the place is not as pleasant. Protection maybe? This is still the wilderness after all.