The two story building was made of old bricks with newer windows. Rumors claiming that the school used to be an insane asylum, however there was no evidence to prove that theory. The locked basement door to the school did nothing to help stop these odd rumors. The basement believed to be the morgue. Although I didn't believe such rumors they still gave me goosebumps at the thought. My brother, unlike me, was a huge supporter of the insane asylum theory and did everything in his power to pass on the 'story' of the building's horrid past. I guess for now that'll be the supposed past of this academy.
Pushing my way through the groups of students I made it to my locker; trying to open it. Twisting the dial left and right, while yanking the handle up. After several tries it sprang open tossing out a piece of paper. I reached up and snatched it out of the air. Turning it over I read the first line in curiosity. It was a small note to say the least. A single sentence that was just a bunch of rubbish by the looks of it. The note reading;
'The Basement...'I shook my head crumbling up the paper. Like I thought it's just a bunch of nonsense, this school seemed to be full of it. I tossed the paper back into the tan-ish gray locker slamming it shut. Glad to see there wasn't a whole lot of trash in it though. As I turned around there was a bright flash that quickly faded. I blinked rapidly, rubbing my eyes. Blinking the dots out of my eyes, I looked over spotting a girl with curly black hair and white streaks in it, reaching her waist. We made eye contact for a second before she turned and began walking down the wide hallway. I stared after her confused before I shook it off. Maybe she was part of the yearbook committee or something rather.
I sighed and walked down the hall watching as the dark haired photographer vanished among the growing crowd. I pushed my way through the tight hallway, making my way into a classroom. Glancing back into the hall way that was swarming, I sat down at a small desk. Looking around the classroom, for a math class it was a nice. The classroom had off-white walls and posters of math equations lining the walls. Wide windows sitting upon the farthest wall letting in bright sunlight that glowed on the teacher's desk. A long wooden desk with papers strew across the top of it. Pencils and pens rocking back and forth slightly as the air conditioner kicked on, blowing an un-welcomed cold air through the classroom.
I dropped my bag on the floor and leaned back right as the bell rang. The last of my peers hurried into the classroom, scrambling into their seats. A familiar person came in last, I cocked my head and blinked. It was the photographer, her face expressionless as she brushed a bit of her bangs away from her right eye. I blinked and looked forward frowning a bit. Looking towards the door as a forced laugh sounded from it. A tall woman walked into the room closing the door behind her. She smiled giving us a cold look, the smile obviously forced. Her blonde hair was straight and pulled back in a high ponytail, revealing brown roots of her hair. Very thin and her neck seemed to be jutted forward naturally. Sticking her head further from her body.
"Hello class, I'm Miss Burngardnt your Geometry teacher" she said pacing in front of the class, her high heels clacking against the tiled floor. There was a mixture of greetings and groans of protest at the word 'Geometry'. I sat there silently as her words eventually muddled into a background noise. I was staring out the window lost in thought. "Morana!" a harsh voice snapped, startling me out of my thoughts. I looked at the teacher and followed her light blue gaze towards the back of the classroom. In slow movements the black and white haired girl lowered her camera. Morana huh? I looked away resting my chin in my hand as the teacher began ranting on how students should not be taking pictures during class.
This class should be interesting...