Episode 3

LEILA

On my first day at the boarding school, I skipped breakfast since I overslept, and a staff member woke me up by drenching me with a bucket of cold water. Soaked and freezing, I was ordered to dress quickly and head to class, which I promptly did. I dressed and brushed my blonde hair before following her to the classroom.

“This is your new classmate, her name is Leila Scott. I will not tolerate any disruptions or conflicts, or you'll end up in the hole,” introduced the teacher.

"Take a seat," she directed me where, and I complied. The class began, and it was math. On each desk was a pencil and a mathematics book.

We were tasked with solving various problems, and since I had watched many videos on the subject, I found it not too challenging. We all turned in our books and returned to our seats.

"Look at that, we have a brainiac here," commented the teacher after reviewing the books for a while.

"Leila, where did you learn to solve these exercises?" inquired the teacher.

"Online," I replied.

"I see," she acknowledged without further comment, and when class ended, I raced to the cafeteria. My hunger was intense, and I didn't want to miss lunch.

I ate everything they served, including the vegetables, due to my intense hunger. After eating, a group of girls approached me.

"So, you're the orphan they dumped here," commented a twelve-year-old girl with reddish hair and green eyes.

"Hey, I'm talking to you," she pressed.

"I don’t want trouble," I replied, standing to leave for my next class.

"Why are you running away? Is it true you're the daughter of a mistress and that's why your daddy abandoned you here? You’re a bastard," she continued, and I clenched my fists, not wanting to give them a reason to punish me.

“Be careful, she’s surely going to be a slut like her mother, and when she grows up will mess around with married men like her bitch mother,” I could no longer contain myself.

"Shut up, idiot," I pushed her, and she fell to the ground.

"Leila, what are you doing?" the woman who had welcomed me the night before exclaimed.

"It was her; she wouldn't stop bothering me," I said, my voice tinged with fear.

"Violence is not welcome here, so you're punished. You'll spend the afternoon in the hole," she declared as the others smirked maliciously.

"What is that?" I asked, fearfully.

"You'll find out," she said, grabbing my arm and dragging me to a dark, dreary basement. She locked me in there and left. Cockroaches and rats were my only company, frightening me greatly.

"Please, get me out of here. I want to go, I don’t want to be here," I cried for hours, but no one came until it got dark, and they released me. My eyes were red from crying.

"I hope you've learned your lesson. Go to your room, change, and head to the cafeteria, or you'll miss dinner," she instructed, and I obeyed, still frightened.

I hurried to my room, took a quick shower, changed, and sprinted to the dining hall where I devoured everything they served. I didn't glance at the other girls and returned to my room. I wanted no further trouble. I locked my room and went to bed early. I needed to wake at five and be in the cafeteria by six, but I couldn't help but cry. It was for my mother and brother that I am alone, but I swear someday Mr. Villarreal will pay for all the harm he's caused me and for my mother's death.

The next morning, I rose extra early, had a shower, and was punctual at breakfast. I dined alone at a table and then went to my Russian class. Not understanding much, I sought out the library afterward and requested a Russian dictionary. Then it was back to the cafeteria and on to my next class, making sure to keep my distance from the other girls. At night, I memorized the dictionary and practiced its pronunciation. Everything would be easier with a computer, but I'm forbidden from using any electronic devices or having any kind of contact with the outside world.

After a month, I'd mastered Russian and avoided the other girls, but it couldn't last forever.

"Hello, little slut," the same silly girl from the first day taunted.

"Leave me alone. I've told you I don't want trouble," I tried to avoid her.

"You know, my father is the one who recommended this place to your father. Mr. Villarreal paid a lot to never hear from you again, and my father promised you wouldn't be happy here, locked away. I can't let my father down," the silly girl bragged. My fists clenched. I didn't want to be punished again in that rat- and cockroach-infested place, so I tried to keep walking.

"Slut, I'm talking to you," she grabbed my hair, and I pushed her away.

"Leave me alone," we scuffled, and we both fell to the ground.

"What is going on here?" demanded a woman in her forties with a furious bulldog's visage.

"She started it, Miss Director," the silly girl swiftly accused.

"That's not true," I protested.

"Silence and walk," the director grabbed my arm, and on the way, I dreaded she was taking me back to that place.

"Why am I being punished when she was the one who started it?" I asked, trying to free myself from her tight grip, which was painfully firm, likely to leave a mark.

"It's because you don't have a father to make a fuss or create scandals at the school. Nobody cares what happens to you. Meanwhile, everyone in Ivone’s family loves her and always has her in their thoughts. She is a princess. If she complains because you're not punished, her family will cause an uproar, which is bad for the school. Now be quiet and go inside," she shoved me into the basement, and I fell to the cold floor among the rats and cockroaches.

I curled up in a corner, hugged my legs, allowing my tears free reign, and cried all night. In the morning, they came to fetch me. They allowed me to eat breakfast in my room but insisted I attend classes afterward. I was so tired I paid no attention to the lessons.

"Stretch out your hands," the mathematics teacher ordered, and I did as told. She struck my hands with a wooden board three times, bringing tears to my eyes.

"This is to ensure you don’t get distracted in my class again. Understood?" I nodded and was allowed to return to my seat. Now not only did my body ache and my eyes feel heavy, but my hands hurt as well. After classes, I ate quickly and ran to my room to take a cold shower to stay awake during Russian class, or my hands would hurt again.

I focused as much as possible during Russian class. Then, after dinner, I nearly collapsed into my bed. The bad news was that I fell asleep and was woken again with cold water, missing breakfast.

That was my first year at the boarding school. Nearly every day I ended up in that cold basement, and the next day I would get hit on the hands for closing my eyes in class and, therefore, not waking up early. They always woke me with cold water. With each passing day, my hatred grew for Mr. Villareal and for the stupid Ivone, who was responsible for most of my punishments.

Now a rich girl is to share my room. Her grandparents asked to place her with someone since she is very fragile and suffers from asthma. They are afraid she might have an episode when alone. All the other girls refused. Of course, her parents were there and they refused. But since I am nonexistent to everyone, I couldn't refuse to share. My room is large, but it only has my small single bed and a closet for my uniforms. I have no belongings. Mr. Villareal didn’t let me pack anything, so I own nothing.

Some men came to set up the new girl's things. Her grandparents really do love her a lot. Her bed is princess-like, and her bedspreads look expensive. She has two large wardrobes, one for uniforms and the other for her pajamas and belongings. She had everything, plenty of books, and a desk for her homework. My small bed looked out of place among all the beautiful things they brought for her. I laid down to sleep in my little bed, ignoring all the things in the room.

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