by Melissa
Part 14. Glimmers
of hope.
This was the first
day of my second week at Elmwood Academy. It was still early morning, the first
bell a distant threat in the quiet halls, but I couldn't wait any longer. Every
second counted. After straightening my apron and maid's cap and scanning my
fingerprint to open the door, I crept out of my cramped quarters in the maid's
dorm, the stolen hours of sleep clinging to my eyelids like cobwebs. In my
hand, I clutched the completed assignment, a testament to my nearly sleepless
night. The hallway echoed with the soft thud of my steps as I navigated the
labyrinthine corridors towards the student lockers.
I soon reached my destination, a stylish locker adorned with an elegant plaque bearing the name "Melissa Jones" and which should have been mine. I reached to the locker and put my fingerprint on the scanner. "Fingerprints recognized and identity as school maid Melissa Jones verified and authenticated. Access to student Melissa Jones' locker denied." Of course, the locker - my locker - was programmed to be used by the delinquent girl who had stolen my identity, not by me.
Suddenly a figure
materialized from the shadows. It was the delinquent girl herself. Startled, I
almost dropped the assignment. The girl, clad in her pristine schoolgirl
uniform, eyed me with suspicion and a defiant scowl, a smirk twisting her lips.
"Early bird, aren't we?" she drawled, her voice rough with sleep.
Caught off guard,
I stammered, shoving the assignment towards the girl. "I, uh, I finished
your assignment."
The girl took the
paper with a disinterested shrug, not bothering with a thank you. Then, to my
surprise, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled banknote.
"For your troubles," she mumbled, thrusting the money into my hand.
I stared at the low-value banknote, torn between relief and hesitation. Taking money felt wrong and it was a very small sum, yet it might come in handy as I was completely penniless after all my means of payment had been confiscated on my arrival at Elmwood Academy. "Thank you, Miss... Jones," I stammered, dropping a clumsy curtsy out of habit.
