I WOKE UP WITH THE most deplorable headache; my temple felt wedge, and the pain was intolerable. Naomi insisted that I shouldn't have to go to School If I'm feeling unwell. Still, I reassured her and Mrs. Heathers that I could manage it because it was Wednesday. I can't sacrifice my attendance just because of this mean sickness. "Just call us if something happened," Mrs. Heathers ordered, slightly hesitant. I nodded and rested my head on the leather chair before George pulled into the driveway.

Mr. Gibson pursued his protocol, adding ninety-seven words to my nine hundred sixty-five essays. It was torture for me. I wanted to protest and plead that I'm not capable of this activity today. But he disregards my excuses and adds another two hundred words, which lengthens Reid's cold company and Mr. Gibson's sadistic way of punishing his least favorite student, me.

It took me almost two periods to finish my essay. And it was surprising and unusual that I managed to complete my task. Our History teacher, Sir Alfred Knitz, was kind enough to let me in even though I already missed the last fifteen minutes of his lectures. My head feels heavy, and I have the urge to sleep in class, like what Alex has been doing. But I have to be polite, and be attentive as I can. So, I sit up straight and take down notes. Till my head slowly drops from my table...

"Ms. Heathers!" I flinched. "Sit up straight; we'll talk later." He scolded, proceeding to his lesson. My cheeks flushed, ashamed of what I'd done. Sir Alfred might report my behavior to Mr. Gibson, and my essay might reach thousands. I exhaled sharply because of the thought, laying my head low before writing again.

The bell rang, and my classmates stormed off, enthusiastic that they would finally have their break after two hours of lesson. I grabbed my books and walked hesitantly towards Sir Alfred, who was still gathering and fixing up all his papers and equipment. So I waited patiently, silently praying that he might not report everything to Mr. Gibson. "Mary Jane, right?" he asked after we settled in our designated place. I nodded, holding down my moist palms.

Sir Alfred's red eyes studied me curiously. Putting his hands over his chin, "You're a new student here, right?" he said. I cleared my throat before spilling, "Yes, I'm new here." He suddenly straightened his posture and stared as if wasting his mind, "That explains it. Now, if I ask you this question, you have to answer with your most wisely chosen words, do you understand?" I nod. "Good, so this is my question. Did you even know what Mastema High is?"

I didn't know if I should be insulted. I was a foster child, but even though I grew up with several strangers over my nineteen years of life, it still doesn't imply that I didn't know what 'School' was. "Pardon, Sir Alfred. But I do know exactly what this institution is," I said, rudely as I expected. Biting down my tongue after realizing what I had just done. His eyes softened before he nodded, "Good, now this will be easier to explain because, for the past three days, I noticed that you're different than the rest of my students,"

"How am I different?" I asked incredulously. "It's your appearance. Now I will ask you another question, Mary Jane. Even at the tender age of nineteen, I know you already have the wisdom of curiosity. Let's say that when your Mother took you into foster care, have you ever wondered why her eyes were different? Why are everyone's eyes red?"

The question itself took my full attention, and I sat properly before looking at him. "What are you trying to portray, Sir Alfred?" I asked. "The thing is, have you ever wondered about the sudden changes in your environment? And if so, have you resembled the pieces as the answer in your curiosity, or are you too afraid to face the enticing mystery because someone has been threatening you not to cross the line?"

I froze, understanding his statement, "Why are you telling me all of this, Sir Alfred?" I asked, fearing that there might be something that was going on lately. He bore his deep red eyes into mine before warning me, "Let's just say this might be a favorable truce for your future. And right now, all you have to do is ignore the hindrance in your voyage as you get closer to the mystery because there's a slight chance that you might be something you didn't expect you to be."

When I arrived at the Canteen, ALEXIS, EMILY, AND ESMERALDA were already sitting in our spot. But I was startled when a cheerful girl greeted me and handed me a tiny piece of paper. "Don't open it unless someone says so," she giggled before walking back to where she belonged: the popular table, where the Six Brothers, consisting of twenty-five members, looked radiant and glowing under the luminous chandelier.

The Canteen was elegant and antique-themed, just like the other rooms and offices in Mastema. Beautiful ancient scriptures were sculpted against the beige-cream wall. There was also a long table with elegant cloth, designed with silver linings at the edge. The design differs from the others strangely; most are designed with dark red roses, resembling their eye color, and handsome vases with oddly looking creatures. The popular table stands out the most, filled with black and silver roses and beautiful glowing stems.

"Mary," Emily called out, waving her hands enthusiastically. I was so drawn to my observation that it took me a couple of minutes to realize that I was standing like a pliant wood, "you look a bit pale; are you sick?" She asked worriedly. I smiled gently and shook my head, "I'm alright, Emily, I was just having a headache, that's all," Alexis' eyes flickered towards me, drowning with curiosity, "you're having a headache? Did you spare a visit to the infirmary?"

I was beyond surprised and astounded by Alexis's statement. It was not the same cold approach but a genuinely concerned one. "I haven't yet, but I decided not to. Because the pain is long gone, and I'm just a bit sleepy now, that's all," I explained. She furrowed her eyebrows and raised them afterward. Still, you must visit Nurse Judith because you never know what kind of headache that is."

"Yes, Alexis," I muttered and saw a faint, warm smile emitting from her thin lips, but she erased it before I could complement it. "So Mary," Emily started, but my eyes flickered from the slight movements in front of our table. The triplets whispered something in Luca's ears that seemed innocent of what was happening before they handed him something. Before I knew it, Luca was already walking into our table, cheeks flushed from shyness.

"I have a medicine here—" Emily continued but stopped when she saw Luca. Luca? What are you doing here?" She smiled. His warm blue eyes darted towards mine nervously, and he spoke with a trembling voice. "M-Mary, M-My brothers told me to give this to you..." he stuttered, giving me the paper before dashing back to their table.

There are two papers and another one from the cheerful girl earlier. I unfolded them one by one, wondering what was written inside.

So Mary is your Name... C

We want you so badly... D

Let's be Playmates... E

EVEN THOUGH I knew Alexis would be mad, I still chose to bypass the infirmary. The pain was gone, and all I wanted was to sleep. For the first time, I felt bad. I rebelled and lied to my fourth-period teacher, Mrs. Hanningfield, that I'd be visiting the infirmary even though I wouldn't. I roamed around the School before a thought occurred to me.

Why did she warn me to stay away from Dominic? He seems polite and well-mannered to me, and unlike the triplets, I never saw any fault in his actions. I continue to walk on, careful to be as unnoticeable as possible, especially to Mr. Gibson, and I think that skipping classes might require five thousand words or more.

I walk around blindly until my feet take me to the Music room, and a certain memory occurs.

Dominic was nowhere to be seen, and the piano was left alone with warm, lonely rays of sun emitting from the window. The room has some sorrowful aura covering its interior, and a red plush sofa was displayed on the corner, looking as if someone had just spotted it.

I slowly walked towards the piano, sitting gently on the chair, before I tried to position my hands, closing my eyes. I tried to play the Dance of the sugar-plum fairy, remembering the keys and how the notes were played.

The melody was fair enough, though it was less pleasurable than Dominic's. A faint smile made its way on my lips as I remember my days in foster care, where Sister Diana would say encouraging words to keep me playing the piano. Mary, she would say, you are a proper lady. You have to learn how to play the piano to make your Mother proud someday—a single tear crept down my cheeks, remembering the memories, missing those times when I felt safe and didn't experience fear when everything was...

"Mary?"

I turned around and saw Dominic, seemingly surprised that I came, "why are you here?" He asked softly. His beautiful dark gray eyes focused on my tears, and I wiped them off quickly.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have barged in," I muttered, flushed from embarrassment. Dominic sat beside me, his eyes flickering with concern. "Why are you crying?" he asked softly. I bit my lip and averted my eyes, preventing him from spilling another tear, but he failed not to. "I don't know anymore..." I sobbed. I didn't feel safe with everybody, even with my own Mother."

And yet I'm being too open with this stranger, I thought to myself, feeling too ignorant and innocent from drastic changes that have been happening lately since Mrs. Heathers, my Mother, took me from foster care. Dominic looked at the piano, seeming to be lost in his thoughts before he spoke quietly, "You're playing it wrong,"

"What is it?" I asked, wiping down my tears. "Your piece, the dance of the sugar plum fairy, you're playing the keys wrong." He looked at me, and I almost laughed at the sudden change of topic. "I know, that's why I always failed at my piano lessons,"

Dominic's stare softened, standing up from our chair. Before he walked behind me and leaned, putting his long fingers on top of mine, "This is the proper way to play it," he whispered softly in my ears, guiding my hands.

My chest rose as the melody came to life, sounding dramatically perfect and astounding. I glanced beside me, and Dominic's dark gray eyes seemed to focus on the keys and my hands, unaware that his warm breath was fanning gently on my neck. It took three minutes for the piece to finish, and just like that, the beautiful, enticing music was gone in the air.

"It's beautiful," I muttered under my breath. We remained silent for a while, absorbing the appreciation of the genius piece of a classic. And I suddenly asked a favor before I could stop myself, "Dominic," I started. 

"Can you teach me more about piano?"

I could feel the smile that'sslowly forming in his rosy, thin lips. "Of course, Mary," he said. "You can come over whenever you want, here in my place." I suddenly felt sleepy, and before I knew it, I fell asleep in his arms, unaware that this would be the start of my contract with the most Deadly Sin.