Unroyal

Reunions

Dahlia

I was set to go. My toiletries, my books, my sketchbook, Millie (my stuffed unicorn since childhood, which Ezra got for me), extra clothes...

Uniforms were provided by the school so the little clothing I brought was for weekends and holidays anyway.

16 years was now packed into a small suitcase, and my only hope dangled on a chain from my neck. I finger my necklace, the small locket bouncing off my neck from the wind. My skin runs through the grooves of the stainless steel chain, the small purple crystal in the middle almost a beacon of hope. I haven't taken it off. Ever. Never.

It's the only thing that ties me to mom. It's like motivation. I turn around to look Ezra in the eyes, but I can't bear to see him sad. It makes me laugh. Tears unashamedly leak from his eyes again, and he envelops me into his arms. Immediately, I press the pads of my finger into his cheek, a bruise forming. He winces and I instantly let go. I knew that they weren't only from dad. 

"I thought you stopped doing this." 

"I did! I swear I did, the bruises are just getting worse, they aren't new." He's lying. I can tell he has bruises on his stomach and lower ribs, even if dad didn't put them there. He was back fighting again, and we both knew it. 

He looks down at me, and his eyes blur with that hazy sad look again. Whatever it was, we'd be in it together. That's how it always was, and that's how it always will be.

"I'll call you every week." I announce. He doesn't say anything. He grips my shoulder and forces me into his chest, planting a feathery soft kiss at the top of my head and shoving 200 dollars into my hand. My eyes widen- that was about two weeks' worth of groceries- money I knew how he got, and money him and dad couldn't afford not to have. Now I knew why he did it. 

"No, Ezra you can't-"

He shakes his head. "I'm not letting you go in there with no money. I'm not letting you go in there with at least enough money to buy lunch. Look, you call me if these posh asses ever doing something, yeah?" His eyes blur with unspoken emotion. 

"Ezra, do you think it'll be different?" He looks back at me with a hurt expression, as if I was pouring salt over an open wound. 

"You don't know how strong you are- someone has to put some respect on our name. And it's going to be you."  

I nod, convincing myself as much as I was going to try to convince him. "I can do this, I will do this. I promise."

He casts one last quick glance at me before the bus skids to a stop in front of us, halting our goodbye. Deep breath in, deep breath out. "I know you will." I stand on the tip of my toes and plant one last kiss on his cheek and he does the same. 

_____

The school was like nothing I had ever seen before. I look up; tall tapestries tower over me, with multiple crystal towers shining in pristine condition. A large crystal fountain that decorates the yard sits smack in the middle, while a large gate, at least 3 times the height of me flaunts in the entrance in inky black stone. Gargoyles perch the head of the gate, looming over the school while the symbols of earth, fire, wind, and water are inscribed in the carvings. Crystalline bridges and shining towers, large fields- it's safe to say this school has no budget.

It's ancient. covered in gorgeous strands of intertwined ivy, cobblestone pillars, marble elms, wrought iron benches, and rose-covered paths.

This is how the other side lives. This is where our taxes go. I love it.

I watch in awe as the sun glares down at narrow lush gardens, flanking the towers left and right into the entrance-

I jolt out of my daze when I hear footsteps and turn to a middle-aged woman who stands behind me, accompanied by who I assume is a student. The middle-aged woman is poised and proper, hands clasped behind her back with a blue circle skirt falling to her knees, a matching blazer adorning her shoulders. She shoots me a stern look, and suddenly I feel very cold.