Story: Biometrics don't lie. Parts 1-2.

by Melissa

Part 1. On my way to my new home

Nestled comfortably in the plush armchair of the first-class train compartment, I gazed out the window, watching the world blur past in a kaleidoscope of colors. My heart pounded with a mix of excitement and apprehension as I embarked on this journey to Elmwood Academy, a prestigious all-female private boarding school where I had been accepted. The thought of living there independently for the next six months, without the constant presence of my family, was both daunting and exhilarating. 

Just days ago, I had bid farewell to my parents, their departure for a six-month Mars simulation mission marking the beginning of my independent journey. Elmwood Academy awaited me, ready to nurture my academic aspirations and provide a stimulating environment for personal growth. The idea of living independently at Elmwood filled me with a mix of excitement and nervousness. I would be on my own for the next six months, without the support of my parents. But I knew that I was up for such a challenge. I had always been independent and self-reliant, and I was confident that I could manage my life at Elmwood with ease. 

As the train drew closer to Elmwood Academy, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels mirroring the pounding of my heart, I found myself lost in a sea of thoughts, reflecting on the person I was and the person I aspired to be. I was Melissa Jones, a young woman with a voracious thirst for knowledge, a dreamer with a heart full of ambition. I was eager to explore the world around me, to delve into the depths of human understanding, and to make a positive impact on the lives of those around me. Yet, I was also aware of my own limitations, the insecurities that held me back, and the fears that threatened to stifle my dreams. I knew that I had the potential to achieve great things, but I also recognized the need for growth, the need to shed my inhibitions and embrace the power within me. 

Elmwood Academy, with its promise of academic rigor, intellectual stimulation, and a supportive community of female peers, seemed like the perfect catalyst for my transformation. I envisioned myself stepping into this vibrant environment, surrounded by like-minded girls, all eager to challenge themselves and reach their full potential. I imagined myself engaging in stimulating discussions, challenging my assumptions, and expanding my horizons. I envisioned myself participating in research projects, exploring new ideas, and making groundbreaking discoveries. Most importantly, I envisioned myself shedding my self-doubt and embracing my leadership potential. I saw myself stepping up to take on challenges, voicing my opinions with confidence, and inspiring others with my passion and determination. 

Elmwood Academy, with its commitment to fostering female leadership, seemed like the perfect place for me to blossom into the leader I had always wanted to be. I believed that the school's nurturing environment and supportive community would provide me with the guidance, mentorship, and encouragement I needed to unleash my leadership potential and make a meaningful difference in the world. 

I pulled out the glossy brochure that had arrived with my acceptance letter, eager to learn more about my new school home. I flipped through the pages, admiring the stunning photographs of Elmwood's stately campus, its lush green fields, and its modern academic buildings. A sense of anticipation stirred within me as I delved into the school's brochure, eagerly absorbing every detail about my new home away from home. The glossy pages showcased Elmwood's state-of-the-art facilities, its vibrant academic curriculum, and its emphasis on fostering a supportive and inclusive community. My eyes were particularly drawn to an advertisement for the school's newly implemented biometrics system. 

The idea of a biometrics system, designed to safeguard the school community, intrigued me. Stating that "Biometrics don't lie", the brochure described the sophisticated fingerprint recognition technology that regulated the access to all school buildings and facilities. While the concept of having my fingerprints stored in a database initially struck me as intrusive, I quickly realized the benefits of such a system. It ensured the safety of Elmwood's students, prevented unauthorized access, and streamlined the often-frustrating process of identification and authentication. 

As I continued reading, I learned about the various applications of the biometrics system. Fingerprint scanners were installed at all entrance points, allowing students to seamlessly swipe their fingers and gain access to classrooms, libraries, and dining halls. Attendance was taken electronically, reducing the administrative burden on both teachers and students. Even the school's vending machines and library book checkout systems were integrated with the biometrics system, adding a layer of security to these everyday interactions. 

The brochure's portrayal of the biometrics system painted a picture of an efficient, secure, and technologically advanced environment. I couldn't help but marvel at the innovative approach Elmwood was taking to safeguard its students and promote a sense of order within its community. The idea of having my unique fingerprint serve as my key to this new world filled me with a sense of belonging and anticipation. 

With a renewed sense of determination, I closed the brochure, my mind buzzing with the possibilities that lay ahead. Elmwood Academy, with its blend of academic excellence and cutting-edge technology, was poised to be the springboard for my future endeavors. I couldn't wait to arrive and experience this futuristic security system firsthand. The thought of having my identity recognized and validated with a simple fingerprint scan felt both empowering and reassuring. I envisioned a future where my fingerprint would become my passport to a world of knowledge, innovation, and personal growth. 

As the train wheels continued their rhythmic beat against the tracks, my thoughts drifted from the excitement of Elmwood Academy to the impending six-month isolation my parents would endure in their Mars simulation habitat. I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness for their upcoming ordeal, confined to a replica of the Red Planet, cut off from the familiar comforts of home. The thought of them spending six months in complete isolation, mimicking the harsh conditions of the Red Planet, sent a shiver down my spine. 

I pictured my parents in those stark, artificial surroundings, their movements restricted, their senses dulled by the lack of natural stimuli. I imagined the silence that would envelop them, broken only by the hum of machinery and the occasional distorted communication with the outside world. A sense of guilt washed over me, believing that I would be enjoying the freedom and independence of Elmwood Academy while they faced this extreme challenge. I wondered how they would cope with the monotony, the loneliness, and the uncertainty that would surely accompany their six-month odyssey. Despite my worries, I also felt a surge of admiration for their courage and resilience. They were venturing into the unknown, pushing themselves to their limits, all in the name of scientific discovery and the pursuit of knowledge. I knew that this experience would be transformative for them, testing their physical and mental endurance, broadening their perspectives, and forging an unbreakable bond between them. They would emerge from this isolation stronger, wiser, and more connected to each other and the universe. 

As the train chugged along, I sent silent messages of support and encouragement to my parents, hoping that their journey would be filled with scientific breakthroughs and personal growth. I knew that they would face challenges, both physical and psychological, but I also believed in their unwavering spirit and their ability to overcome any obstacle. 

Yet, amidst the excitement, a knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. The thought of being separated from them for half a year, of not hearing their voices or feeling their warm embrace, was almost unbearable. I missed their reassuring presence, their unwavering support, and their ability to transform even the most mundane moments into adventures. I closed my eyes, trying to conjure up their faces, the warmth of their smiles, and the comforting sound of their laughter. I clung to these memories, knowing that they would be my lifeline during the long months ahead. I vividly recalled their passionate discussions, their eyes ablaze with scientific curiosity, as they eagerly prepared for their mission. They spoke of replicating Martian soil, simulating the lack of sunlight and the extreme temperatures, and even developing their own communication system to mimic the challenges of long-distance communication on another world. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and I couldn't help but admire their dedication to this ambitious endeavor. They were pioneers, pushing the boundaries of human knowledge, venturing into the unknown with unwavering determination. 

With a renewed sense of optimism, I closed my eyes and envisioned their return, their faces beaming with pride and excitement as they shared their experiences and discoveries upon their return to Earth. Their journey, though isolating and challenging, would undoubtedly shape their lives and enrich their understanding of the universe. And as I drifted off to sleep, the rhythmic clatter of the train lulling me into a peaceful slumber, I vowed to embrace my own journey of self-discovery at Elmwood Academy, inspired by my parents' pioneering spirit and their unwavering commitment to exploration and knowledge. 

As the train journey continued, I delved deeper into the school's glossy brochure, my eyes drawn to the bold statement that Elmwood Academy was "where girls become leaders." The words resonated with me, igniting a spark of ambition and self-belief within my heart. The brochure painted a vivid picture of Elmwood as a nurturing environment where young women were empowered to reach their full potential. It highlighted the school's commitment to providing girls with opportunities to develop their leadership skills, foster their voices, and take on challenging leadership roles. 

I envisioned myself stepping into this vibrant community, surrounded by like-minded girls, all eager to make a difference. I imagined myself participating in school clubs and organizations, engaging in meaningful discussions, and taking on leadership positions that would allow me to make a positive impact on the school and beyond. The thought of being surrounded by a supportive network of female mentors and role models filled me with inspiration. I envisioned myself learning from their experiences, drawing strength from their wisdom, and emulating their courage and determination. 

As I continued to read, the brochure emphasized Elmwood's focus on providing girls with a well-rounded education, not just in academics but also in the arts, sports, and extracurricular activities. The school's commitment to developing well-rounded individuals resonated with my own desire to pursue a holistic education that would prepare me for a successful and fulfilling life. With each page I turned, the brochure painted a more vivid picture of the life I could have at Elmwood Academy. I envisioned myself growing intellectually, emotionally, and personally, surrounded by a supportive community of women who believed in my potential. 

The prospect of becoming a leader, of using my voice and my abilities to make a positive impact on the world, filled me with a sense of purpose and excitement. Elmwood Academy, with its focus on empowering young women, seemed like the perfect place for me to embark on this journey of self-discovery and leadership. 

As the train rattled along, the countryside continued to unfold before me like a living tapestry. The tranquil solitude of my train compartment fueled my excitement for the new chapter that awaited me. I felt ready to embark on this journey of self-discovery, to embrace Elmwood Academy's unique blend of academic rigor and technological innovation. The biometrics system, with its promise of enhanced security and personalized experiences, was just one facet of this extraordinary institution that would shape my future in ways I could not even begin to imagine. 

Part 2 - A fateful encounter at the train station 

As my train screeched to a halt at the station, a wave of anticipation washed over me. I had finally reached the final leg of my journey to Elmwood Academy, the prestigious boarding school that would change my life forever. Gathering my belongings, I stepped off the train, founding myself in a bustling station, the air thick with the sounds of announcements, chatter, and the rhythmic clanging of train doors. I scanned the platform, my heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness, searching for the platform where my connecting train would depart. Following the arrows and announcements, I made my way to the other platform, where my next train was already waiting. 

Suddenly, my eyes caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye. A girl, dressed in tattered clothes and worn-out sneakers, barreled into me, sending my belongings scattering across the platform. The impact sent our train tickets scattering across the floor. Disoriented and slightly bruised, I picked myself up and brushed myself off. I turned to face the girl I'd bumped into, ready to apologize for the mishap. The girl standing before me was a stark contrast to my polished, preppy appearance. She wore ill-fitting, worn-out clothes, and her hair was unkempt. 

Before I could utter a word, she exploded in my face, her voice dripping with accusation and disdain. "You clumsy oaf!" she snarled, her eyes flashing with anger. "Look what you've done!" 

Taken aback by her words, I quickly apologized, my cheeks burning with embarrassment, and began to gather my scattered belongings. As I did so, I noticed that my first-class train ticket had fluttered to the ground. I bent down to retrieve it, but it was already too late. The girl, her eyes glinting with mischief, had picked it up before I could react. 

"My ticket!" I exclaimed, my voice trembling with indignation. "That's mine!" 

"Oh, please," she scoffed, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Look at you, all dressed up like you're going to a debutante ball. You don't deserve a seat in first class." 

Before I could respond, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd with my precious first-class ticket clutched tightly in her hand. I stood there, dumbfounded, my heart pounding in my chest. In her haste, the girl had left her own ticket, a second-class ticket, on the ground. I reached for it. My first-class ticket was now in the girl's possession, while I was stuck with a second-class one. 

I rushed to my first-class carriage and tried to explain the situation to the conductor, hoping that she could rectify the situation. She scrutinized the second-class ticket, her expression turning grim as she shook her head. "Miss," she said, her tone apologetic yet firm, "this ticket is for the second-class carriage. You cannot board here." 

With a mix of frustration and disbelief, I approached the nearby train manager, clutching the second-class ticket in my hand. The manager, a portly man with a stern expression, listened patiently as I explained the mix-up with the other girl, her careless actions having thrust me into this uncomfortable predicament. He nodded sympathetically, agreeing to check the system and verify my identity. As I provided my name, Melissa Jones, a flicker of hope ignited within me. Surely, the system would reveal the error, and I would be swiftly reunited with my rightful first-class ticket. 

However, my hope was quickly dashed as the attendant turned to his screen, a grim expression settling upon his face. He pointed towards the screen, displaying the details of the ticket, and my heart sank as I read the name: Melissa Jones. The girl's ticket, the one I was holding, bore the same name. The girl was obviously also called Melissa Jones. The attendant, his voice laced with regret, explained that his hands were tied. The tickets had been scanned and the system could not be overridden. My mind raced, trying to find a solution, but the ticket system, with its rigid protocols, appeared impenetrable. I was indeed trapped with the girl's ticket and bound to travel in second class. 

A surge of frustration washed over me as I realized the extent of my predicament. The mix-up with the tickets, a consequence of my unfortunate encounter with the other girl, had relegated me to the lower echelons of the train, leaving me stranded in the midst of a social divide that mirrored the stark contrast between my affluent upbringing and the struggles of those less fortunate. 

With a heavy heart, I went to the other end of the platform and boarded the second-class carriage noted on the girl's ticket. Resentment simmered within me in the cramped compartment, my designer clothes and impeccable grooming attracting the disdainful stares of the other, badly clothed travelers. Their whispers and judgemental glances pierced my composure, exacerbating my sense of alienation and discomfort. I felt like an outsider, a fish out of water, in this world of shabby clothes and rough manners. 

The train ride was a long and uncomfortable one, each passing minute a reminder of my forced descent into a world seemingly far removed from my own. I was jostled and pushed around, my belongings were knocked over, and my ears were assaulted with the constant chatter and laughter of the other passengers. I longed for the comfort and elegance of first class. The train's rattle and sway echoed the jarring dissonance between my surroundings and the refined environment I had been accustomed to. The contrast between my affluent upbringing and the poverty evident in my fellow passengers deepened my sense of unease. 

Amidst the discomfort and disquiet of my second-class carriage, I sought solace in the school's glossy brochure, its pages promising a world of academic excellence and social sophistication. As I delved into its contents, my eyes were drawn to the section highlighting the school's prestigious uniforms, a symbol of Elmwood Academy's esteemed reputation. The brochure described the uniforms in detail, each item imbued with elegance and refinement. The tailored blazer, adorned with the school's crest, exuded an aura of authority and academic prowess. The crisp white shirt, symbolizing purity and academic rigor, complemented the blazer's sophistication. The pleated tartan skirt, a nod to the school's heritage, added a touch of feminine charm and grace. The images accompanying the text showcased the uniforms in their full glory. Models, impeccably dressed in the school's attire, posed with an air of confidence and poise, their expressions exuding an aura of intellectualism and leadership. The uniforms, I realized, were not mere garments: they were an embodiment of the school's values – excellence, tradition, and leadership. Despite my current predicament, I couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as I imagined myself clad in this uniform, standing tall and proud as I navigated the corridors of Elmwood Academy. The uniforms represented more than just attire; they were a sign of academic excellence and social refinement. The thought of wearing such a symbol of the school's prestigious heritage filled me with a sense of anticipation. 

The brochure also highlighted the meticulous care taken to maintain the uniforms, emphasizing that they were hand-washed by the school's dedicated maids. This revelation struck me as a strange detail, as I had always assumed that students would handle their own laundry. The thought of the school maids, diligently tending to the uniforms of the privileged students, stirred a sense of curiosity within me. When I thought about it, it seemed natural for students like myself, destined for positions of leadership and influence, to rely on the labor of others for mundane tasks. After all, we were being prepared for demanding roles that required focus, intellect, and strategic thinking. Engaging in menial chores would be a distraction from our academic pursuits. After pondering the question, I came to the conclusion that it was indeed natural for privileged students, who like me were educated to become leaders, to rely on the work of humble servants like the school maids for all menial tasks. After all, society was designed that way, with the privileged few at the top and the rest of society serving their needs, and the school needed to reflect that. 

As the train continued its journey, it started to rain outside. I closed my eyes, imagining myself stepping into Elmwood Academy, clad in the school's uniform, my heart filled with a sense of purpose and belonging. The uncomfortable second-class carriage faded into the background, replaced by a vision of a world of academic challenges, intellectual pursuits, and the camaraderie of like-minded peers. 

When the train finally pulled into the final station, it was raining heavily. I felt relieved to have arrived. I had survived the ordeal of having to travel in second class, but the experience had left me shaken and wary. I rushed off, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere of second class. However, my newfound excitement was quickly replaced by a sinking feeling as I realized that my luggage and my stylish coat were nowhere to be found. I rummaged through the overhead compartments, checked under the seats, and even retraced my steps through the carriage, but my belongings remained elusive. 

A sense of panic began to grip me as I scanned the faces of my fellow passengers, hoping for a glimmer of recognition or a helpful tip. However, the only response I received was a chorus of mocking laughter from the group of passengers I had encountered in the second-class carriage. Their callous laughter only amplified my distress, further fueling my anger and frustration. I felt violated, my belongings stolen, and my sense of security shattered. The train was about to depart, and I was stranded, without my belongings and without any means of reporting the theft. 

As the train doors began to close, I made a last-ditch attempt to catch the attention of a conductor or a security officer. But to my dismay, the train chugged away, leaving me standing on the platform, stranded in the rain, with no hope of retrieving my lost belongings. The mocking laughter of my fellow passengers echoed in my ears, adding insult to injury. The theft had left me feeling violated and vulnerable, and I was unsure how I would replace my belongings. The experience left me feeling vulnerable, violated, and disheartened. 

Determined to salvage my arrival at Elmwood Academy, I made my way towards the exit, hoping to find the car from Elmwood Academy which was supposed to pick me up. And, indeed, as I emerged from the station, I spotted a car with the school logo parked near the first-class carriages. I rushed towards it, but, to my dismay, as I neared the car, I saw it pull away, disappearing into the distance. A wave of despair washed over me as I realized that I had missed the opportunity to reach the school and seek assistance. The thought of returning to Elmwood Academy without my luggage or a means of transportation felt overwhelming. 

As I stood on the deserted platform, the weight of my predicament settled upon me like a heavy cloak. My luggage was stolen, my coat was missing, and the car from Elmwood Academy had departed, leaving me alone in the rain. The once-anticipated arrival at Elmwood Academy had turned into a disheartening saga of mishaps and misfortune. It was raining and the biting cold of the evening air pierced through my damp clothes, exacerbating my discomfort. Without my coat, I shivered uncontrollably, my teeth chattering, as I sought shelter under a nearby bus stop. The rain, relentless in its downpour, transformed the platform into a muddy mess, making my situation even bleaker. 

As I stood shivering beneath the meager protection of the bus stop roof and with only my phone for company, I attempted to call the school, hoping to seek assistance. However, the unanswered call served as a stark reminder of my isolation and the limitations of my resources. The absence of a response was not surprising, given the late hour and the fact that it was a Sunday evening. As the minutes turned into an hour, my spirits sank further. The lack of communication from Elmwood Academy fueled my anxiety, leaving me uncertain about my fate. The cold, the rain, and the looming darkness seemed to conspire against me, amplifying my sense of vulnerability. 

The long wait for the next bus stretched on, each passing minute amplifying my anxiety. The relentless rain seemed to mirror the tumultuous emotions swirling within me – disappointment, anger, and a growing sense of despair. Just as I was about to succumb to desperation, a glimmer of hope emerged. A bus, its headlights cutting through the rain, pulled up to the stop. I hurried towards it, my heart pounding with a mix of relief and anticipation. As I boarded the cramped vehicle, a sense of resignation washed over me. My arrival at Elmwood Academy, once filled with excitement and anticipation, had turned into a series of disheartening mishaps. 

The bus ride provided a brief respite from the elements, but the journey seemed interminable. My wet clothes clung to me uncomfortably, and the chill of the rain continued to seep into my bones. As the bus finally pulled up to the gates of Elmwood Academy, I could barely contain my exhaustion and disappointment. Stepping off the bus, I was greeted by the imposing façade of the academy, its grand architecture contrasting sharply with my own disheveled appearance. The rain continued to fall in sheets, transforming the manicured lawns into a glistening expanse. 

As I approached the main entrance, a sense of trepidation filled me. Despite the challenges I had faced, I was determined to make the most of my opportunity at Elmwood Academy. I would overcome the setbacks, learn from the experience, and emerge stronger and more resilient. With a newfound resolve, I stepped through the grand doors of Elmwood Academy, ready to embrace the challenges and opportunities that awaited me. The journey ahead would be challenging, but I was confident that I had the strength and determination to succeed.