1: Welcome

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welcome to Auburn Brights Academy!

hope you'll stick around. this story is going to be long.

there will be some chapters deeper into the story that will contain disturbing content. i will put a trigger warning ahead. this story also has criticism against wealthy people and some offensive ideaologies. there is also criticism against the government and religion. take all this with a grain of salt but also some truth to it.

:) enjoy

CHAPTER 1: WELCOME

CHAPTER 1: WELCOME

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Vincent Florence

My acceptance letter sat on my lap while I sat in my mom’s old Toyota car. The engine made an irking humming noise that- everytime she drove- made me worry that the car would explode and kill us both. But no matter what I told her, her saying was the same: It gets the job done. Which, fair enough, it does. Because here we were, in New England, miles away from my home town in Wisconsin. 

When I applied to this school, I never expected to actually get in. It’s similar to how a person would apply to Harvard or buy a scratch ticket randomly. You don’t actually think you have a shot, but you just do it because it’s a fun gamble to participate in. 

But who would’ve known that when Auburn Brights Academy, the most prestigious academy in the world, announced they were holding a raffle to have one scholarship student attend their school, that they would’ve chosen me! A small town kid who grew up without a father and a single mother.

At first, I protested wanting to go. I didn’t want to abandon my mom and let her live alone. I wanted to stay and stick around with her. But my mom refused and convinced me that by going to Auburn, I won’t just be investing in my future but also hers. It sounds selfish, but my main concern has always been helping my mother. Even at my own detriment. 

“.. and remember to call me everyday. If not, just a text is fine.” My mom spoke. 

“Yes, mom. I understand.” I replied. She’s given me a sort of list of things she wants me to do and her expectations. I’ve always lived up to them so it didn’t matter. 

“And one more thing, Vincent.” Mom said, using my name and not my nickname. “You are different from these kids. All of these other kids come from affluent families whose grandparents made more money than our entire bloodline will ever make. So of course, they might not see you as one of them. You’re an outsider. Don’t forget that.” Mom said.

Her past words have mostly gone through one ear and out the other. But the staid tone she had spoken to me let me know that she was not joking around. This wasn’t her being motherly or overbearing, but similar to a warning.

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