To the Moon and to Saturn

I. Knox Knox

The old stone bricks placed by scholars near a century ago still held the same secrets and ghosts that made up the foundations of Welton Academy. The four pillars spoken into being by the privileged men who founded this school were still held high in regard despite their archaic nature;

Tradition.

Honour.

Discipline.

Excellence.

In modern times Welton was viewed more as an all-boys preparatory college due to the rigid structure and timetables given to the students. Despite the unforgiving history of the school, in 1959 the headmaster welcomed the first and last girl to ever step foot in Welton as a pupil. Her name was Darla Moore.

The curious background to her position at Welton, which was questioned by critics on the education board for years to come, seemed to be an anomaly, an exception to Mr Nolan's old fashioned views. However, before the dark events of that winter, the headmaster had shown empathy towards his old friend and former student.

William Moore remained a fond memory in the old headmaster's mind, his wit and manners as a boy caused the teacher to leech onto him and parade his success around as though it were his own. As William Moore graduated from Welton Academy to become one of the most prominent defence lawyers of his time, Mr Nolan took it as a personal accolade to add to his collection of trophies. Over the years the men had drank and sneered together, boasting about their achievements in a materialistic manner.

It was this connection that encouraged William Moore to contact the older man and request, rather demand, using his influential manipulation, that his legacy be continued on at Welton through his daughter.

The attorney could not contain his disappointment at not having an heir to be proud of, to shape meticulously into his image. On the contrary, he trained his daughter to receive each blow and criticism sent her way to make up for his misfortune, attempting to craft a soldier out of his only child behind the mask of a little girl.

After his cheque hit the dark mahogany of Mr Nolan's desk, the deed was done. Miss Darla Moore would be attending Welton Academy on trial for the next academic year.

...

Darla could not hide her defeat as she sat pin straight next to her father in silence as their driver rolled to a stop outside the deep arch of the building. Before her stood Vermont's finest boarding school yet she could not help but feel waves of nausea course through her frame. With shaking hands, she attempted to straighten out the imaginary creases on her mandatory plaid skirt. The faux tartan rubbed against the smooth skin of her thighs and irritated the surface.

The driver dressed in polished black, exited the vehicle before it had fully stopped and opened the door with ease for her father as though he had done it a thousand times. Before he made the trek round to the other side of the car to do the same thing to her, Darla stepped out and breathed in the cool air.

She took a few deep breaths to steady herself before the ceremony began. From her peripheral she could see George, the driver skidding to a halt near her in his haste to open her door. She donned a thankful smile before the corners of her lips turned downwards into a frown, from her left she could hear her father muttering under his breath, sneering at the incompetence of the valet. Her chest clenched and her mouth opened on instinct to assure George that he had done more than enough and that she was capable of opening her own door but her father had turned sharply to face the school and disappeared into the crowd of families entering the building.

She turned her attention towards the man, and old friend next to her, "Thank you so much Mr George, really!" she spoke. "I hope to see you again before the winter break."