Sing For Me
Page 16
Not to me.
When I heard those dreams, only one thing came to mind. Charm school.
I should be grateful they picked me for a scholarship at the most prestigious school for the magically inclined. It’s a privilege denied to my mother, and her mother before her. Entrance required a pedigree no one in my family line could boast, but fate fell differently for me.
The day my little brother dared me to write my name onto the beautifully handcrafted cardstock, the official application for scholarship into the Aradia Academy of Enchantments and Etiquette, my life changed forever. The school was everything I wasn’t, and I grew up knowing l’d never go there. That is, until they drew my name from the first ever scholarship lottery.
The drawing was such a big deal that it had been broadcast across the Arcane network, a channel that operated on wavelengths other than the non-magical, for all supernaturals to view on their television. Imagine my surprise, hearing my name being drawn while at work in the small diner that catered only to those with ‘extra’ abilities.
I lived in a small town, yet the magical presence was still high enough to warrant a cafe that would appear rundown to human eyes, while those of us with gifts would see a quaint little diner. I’d worked there since my seventeenth birthday, and now at nineteen, I knew the menu verbatim. Though, regardless of how much practice I had carrying trays of food, when I heard my name called, all my experience didn’t stop me from dropping the one in my hand. The result: a very unhappy troll with a lap full of ‘Pappy’s Blue Ribbon Lasagne’. I barely heard his yelling as I stood in shock, gaping at the television. My name scrolled across the bottom on repeat, there for everyone to see.
That moment changed everything for me. The plans I had to go to a local college, surrounded by regular humans to get a degree in Business so I could open up my own coffee shop became a thing of the past. No, those dreams would no longer do. I was to go to Aradia now, and that meant the whole world lay at my fingertips. All I had to do was grab it.
Taking Then By Storm
“Honey, please tell me you’ve packed more than just jeans and t-shirts...?” Mom says from my bedroom doorway, her voice holding a pleading quality to it.
I’d like to tell her I have, but the layers of denim currently shoved into my suitcase would give me away.
“Mom, you know I hate dresses. The only ones I’ve found that work with my wings are usually too low cut in the back, and I feel uncomfortable in them. Besides, don’t they have uniforms there? I probably won’t need half of these clothes anyways.” It’s true, but I’m unwilling to part with any of my jeans.
Some people collect shoes, some like jewelry. Me? I like a nice, broken-in pair of jeans. Not the most fashionable of choices, but there are worse things I could collect.
“Sweetie, you’ll only be in uniform during school hours. Don’t you think you might need something for dressier occasions? What if you meet a boy and want to go on a date? Surely you’d like to be able to dress up?” She looks hopeful as she stands there, and beyond that, she looks proud.
I guess from her perspective, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for her child. It is, and I’m happy to have it, I just wish the tight ball of anxiety in my stomach felt the same way.
“I doubt I’ll have much time for dating. The academics there are really advanced, so I’ll likely be behind the other students who’ve had years of these studies with private tutors. I’ll probably have to spend every spare minute studying just to keep up.” The truth in my words increases my nerves, but I brush them away. This is my chance to bring honor to my family name. And after the legacy my father left… Well, a little honor would definitely help.
“Okay. I’ll drop the subject, for now, but only because I got you something.” There’s a gleam in her eye as she pulls a gift bag from behind her back, and I hesitantly step forward to take it from her.
I’m already reaching into the metallic purple bag, removing the layers of teal paper, when I reply, “You didn’t need to get me anything. I know money’s tight right now, and—”
She cuts me off with the wave of her hand. “You hush up now. A mother only gets to send her baby girl off to college once. And most can only dream of sending them off to Aradia Academy, so you shush and let me have my moment,” she scolds me, hands on her rounded hips, and I quickly stop my protests. When she’s in that position, there’s no arguing with her.
Turning my focus back to the task at hand, I finish removing the paper. My fingers brush against something soft, and I enjoy the feel of the silky cloth between my fingers. Impatient, I pull the item out and gasp.
The material I uncovered is a vibrant pink dress. It’s beaded, and covered in small, scattered gems that catch the light and make the fabric appear to sparkle. Turning it to see the back, I discover convenient and modestly placed slits in it that will allow my wings to fit through, and I throw my arms around my mother in a big hug. A dress like this costs a lot to make, and I try to convey through actions how much it means to me.
“You’re going to take that school by storm, Rhia. You keep your chin up, and don’t ever let anyone dull your shine, baby girl. You may not have come from money and privilege like they have, but you know the importance of hard work and being respectful, and that’s something that can’t be bought. I love you, and know that you’re going to do great there. Now, hurry up and finish packing. We need to leave in about an hour if you’re going to make your flight.”
I don’t miss the tears that have traced salty paths down her cheeks, and she doesn’t make any move to wipe them away. Instead, she places one last kiss on my forehead and walks out the door.
Alone with my gift, I walk over to the floor length mirror that hangs on my closet door, and hold the dress up to my body. At five foot nine, I’m taller than a lot of the girls I know, but I still have feminine curves that could never be mistaken as boyish. My hair hangs to my waist, the braids ensuring it stays manageable, and I’ve been blessed with skin like my mother’s. The tawny color that I’ve grown to appreciate and love with the way it contrasts with my black hair and topaz eyes. Self-love hasn’t come naturally to me, but when I stopped caring about what others thought, and instead only worried about my own feelings, I grew to love the color of my skin.
Mom calling me from the living room ends my perusal of the dress, and my mulberry colored wings twitch either in anticipation or dread; Maybe both, so I shake them out to release my pent up energy. Then I take care with placing the dress inside my suitcase. It’s not a perfect solution, but it shouldn’t wrinkle too much. Sighing, but knowing I’m out of time, I grab the handle and start to roll it out the door.
I pause for only a second as I turn to leave, my gaze running over the room I’ve had for nineteen years, making sure nothing of importance gets left behind. Not spying anything else I need to have, I flip off the switch, and gently shut the door behind me, ready to face my destiny head on.
Wishing For Them Link
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About the Author
About Ellabee Andrews
Ellabee Andrews is a Southern Mama, with a love of all things horror. She enjoys spending time with her husband and children, and can often be found with her nose in a book, or her head in the clouds. Her debut series, The Revel and Rot series, is now complete and can be found on Amazon. If you like romance, adventure, steamy scenes, humor, horror, and zombies, then this is the series for you. All three books are available on KU.
Ellabee also has numerous short stories that are published within other Anthologies. These, too, can be found on her author page.
To stay up to date on all of Ellabee’s past, present, and future works, you may follow her with the links below.
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