Change was always going to happen. It was unethical to fight it, so I had to walk through it, even if it was full of tiny, fragile eggshells. It was unreasonable to keep moving around with no money or destination; therefore, the most logical choice was to face your demons. Even though I preferred to run, they would always find me in the end. Fight or die. The pounding of the drums for the final battle was approaching.

Ashthorn Academy was a school for the best of the best, from what I heard. I was one of the lucky few that got in with a scholarship. Strangely, I didn't know about it, but my parents knew. I was not smart or athletic, but I did draw and sometimes paint as a hobby. 

However, compared to the students here, it was mediocre at best. It would make much more sense for my parents to have paid for me, but that would be weird. Where did they get the money? From the mafia? I wondered if this "scholarship" was real or a mix-up. 

I felt out of place looking at the rich and talented. My uniform was the only piece of proof that I belonged here. My tan blazer was heavy on my shoulders. I kept stepping on my plaid olive green pants with my black shoes, and my green tie felt like it was choking me. I looked unnatural in these clothes. I didn't deserve to wear this fabric made for the extraordinary elites. I was a simple commoner—a peasant among the nobles and royals. 

At least I didn't have to worry about making friends here. Who would be friends with someone like me? A freak who could taste emotions with an unknown curse that caused harm to the people around him, whether he was acquainted with them or not. I wouldn't want to be near anyone describing that. Besides, the rich mostly stay away from the poor. I may not be broke, but I wasn't in high social standing either. 

I arrived at noon when everyone was changing classes. This time of the day was called the "study period." Having an hour to do whatever was nice, and I certainly needed the time.

I sat alone in the library, gazing at all the books. I was not much of a reader, but seeing these many books was impressive. Two stories of fiction and history filled the room, towering over the walls like wild vines. A glass dome covered the ceiling, illuminating the space with natural light. Brown rectangular tables lined up on the top floor, and a few computers stayed at the bottom near the reception desk. Yellow paper lanterns hung on every bookshelf with different symbols to indicate the sections. I would love to see those lanterns light up at night.

I studied the school map. It was a miracle that I could find the library in this maze. This place had three buildings, but since they were all connected, most people counted it as one construction: The Main building held the headmaster's office, library, nurse's office, gym, and elective classes. The west wing contained fifth to eighth grades, and the east wing had ninth to twelfth. 

My next class was a few feet away. Going to the library was a good choice, but my other classes were a different story. I wish I had a guide to help me instead of them throwing me into the lion's den. I'd be okay if I didn't lose the map—my holy grail. 

I had thirty minutes before class started, so there was no need to rush. I browsed through the shelves on the second floor, looking for the history section. History was interesting. Things were either preserved or lost. I was disappointed at how much history was discarded instead of remembered. It was like failure was waiting to happen. The same mistakes repeated as time moved. I was no different. No matter how hard I try, the curse would find a victim and me as the cause. Misfortune was impossible to escape.

I was not moving anymore, and that was a fact. Mom found an excellent job as an accountant, which was fast since she couldn't get a job half the time, and she would hold on to that job and the house. This seems too good to be true. I honestly believed that someone or something lured us here for a nefarious reason, or maybe I was being paranoid.

I picked up a book about World War II. Something about wars fascinates me. How much death and destruction can Man cause? I imagined they must have felt the fear of death and the anger and hate toward their enemies. I was conflicted about how much I enjoyed reading about war, death, and destruction. The writing showed that humans were capable of fighting for what they believed was right, and I was weirdly proud of it. My familiar devilish smile appeared, and I quickly covered it with my hand. A habit that I learned straight away.

I wanted to bring it home, but I needed an ID card. I sighed and put the book away on the top third shelf where I found it. I'd get my school ID later this week. Until then, I had to be patient, but the little voice in my head whispered, what if the book is gone? I would reply, I'll just get a similar book, and it shuts up. At least for now, until it crawled back inside my mind. 

"Excuse me," a gentle voice called behind me.

I turned around to see a girl waving at me. Her golden shooting star hair clip hugged her long light brown hair as she approached me, nodding in approval.

"Can you get this book for me, please?" She pointed to a blue book high on the poetry section shelf.

I wasn't tall, but I could be a giant compared to her. I stared at the girl, unsure if I should help her or walk away. It was the first time someone around my age had talked to me in the academy, and first impressions were everything. But what would happen to her in the long run if I got too close? This was a lose-lose situation that I couldn't avoid. Either I act like a jerk or help her. It was just a favor. It won't hurt to help, right? Besides, I might not even see her again. She would forget about me, making me another face in the crowd.

I walked over to the shelf the girl pointed to and stood on my toes, pulling out the blue book. Beowulf, in bulky black letters, was written at the top. Wasn't this a bit too difficult for us? Well, for me. The last book I read for English was Huckleberry Fin, but at least I could understand the novel. 

I handed it to her and walked away before I did something stupid. It was the right move as she said thank you in the background. I did nothing weird and nothing out of the norm. It was perfect, right?

Right?

I didn't understand myself. Did I want to be close to people, or did I want to push them away? I kept telling myself that the curse did it, yet I didn't fully understand it. People got hurt, and I grinned as it happened. I knew a disaster when I saw one, and there was something in her. I didn't know what that was, but it fascinated me. It was warm and pleasant, like walking in the woods in the middle of fall. 

It was intoxicating. 

I wanted to get close to it, but I shouldn’t. I forced myself to turn and run away from that girl as far as I could.

I arrived at my class a little later than planned, trying to avoid being sucked in by whatever she had. But the moment I stepped into that class, I felt that pull. It was weak and distant, but I recognized it. I looked at the many faces in the classroom and saw her. The golden shooting star hair clip was hard to forget. She noticed me looking at her and waved. I stared down, flustered by how much effort I put into getting away. 

I took a deep breath and walked over to the teacher, I assumed. He looked no older than the students but was the only one not in uniform. His pale blue button-up shirt was tucked underneath his tan khaki, and his cold light blue eyes stared at me behind his thick black glasses. 

"Um...Hi? Where do I sit? Mister… Ross?" I asked nervously.

I looked at my schedule, ensuring I was in the correct room. The classroom has science equipment and posters on safety all over the place. Some students wore clear goggles as they worked on something on the board. It seemed to be correct. 

"You must be Ellis Ranger. It's nice to meet you!" Mr. Ross said, smiling, "You can sit at any of the empty chairs."

My eyes widened as he spoke. I opened my mouth to say something but was stunned to utter anything looking at this… Thing! It was the first time I didn't get a taste. People talked with emotion regardless if they felt  "nothing." It often tasted like faded old loaves, but the moment he said something, there was nothing—pure emptiness. I was disgusted and angry about it but didn't know why. He was an empty bastard of a schoolteacher!

"Empty. You're empty," I spat the words without thinking.

Anxious and surprised eyes glued onto the teacher and me. I heard a girl gasp as I yelled before whispers and giggles overran the room. I tried to think of something else before it became a bigger scene. Maybe I could make it sound like a misunderstanding. It needed to be quick, and it had to make sense. You're empty. I called my teacher empty. Why?

"I'm sorry?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, my stomach is empty. I haven't eaten anything."

Smooth, right?

I looked around the room as the laughter grew louder. Mr. Ross turned towards the class and quieted them, and like dogs, they obeyed him without struggle. What kind of sorcery was this? I expected at least a minute or two to silence a classroom of twenty students, but Mr.Ross did it under a second. He turned back to me.

"After class, why don't you drop by the cafeteria? They have sandwiches that students can grab for free. Mariel can show you where it is." He pointed at the girl from the library.

Great.

"That sounds good, thank you," I said and sat at the farthest desk I could find.

No one looked at me. It was like the event didn't happen, or the class was ignoring me and silently making fun of me. I stared at Mariel, the girl with the golden shooting star hair clip, working away at the problem on the dry board. We were either going to be terrible friends or beautiful enemies. Honestly, we could be both with my track record. 

Mr. Ross gave me a pair of goggles. He told me it was only required if we did lab activities, but students were encouraged to wear them in class. I didn't put them on. Luckily this was a biology class, as I didn't have to deal with chemicals that might cause a fire. I didn't think I was even allowed to mess with them if there were any. I had never done any lab work before and would never touch anything that could burn.

He lectured the class explaining DNA and Punnett Squares. I spaced out a couple of times while he was talking. How was I supposed to be engaged in it if I didn't know it? I read the page on DNA in my textbook, ignoring the voices in the background, but even that didn't help me. The words here were like reading an ancient text. I pretended to read as the teacher's voice became muffled in my thoughts.

Maybe it was my imagination, but I swear he watched me as he taught the class. Mr. Ross's light blue eyes glanced at me as I "read." It could be nothing or perhaps not. Either way, an emotionless bastard of a teacher was something to avoid.

When class ended, I packed up my things as fast as possible. I hoped to leave before—

"You're Ellis, right?" The girl with the shooting star clip asked as she approached me.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Ross said you need help getting around. After all, I owe you a favor," Mariel held the blue book in her arm.

He spoke to her without me knowing. When did he have the time?

"No, you don't have to. Really," I pleaded, shaking my head as I struggled to ignore the pull I wanted to be near so badly.

I crept closer to the door, but she grabbed my wrist. The warmth of her soft hands felt comforting. 

"It's fine," She assured me, guiding me to the cafeteria.