White Secrets Part 1

~Hazel~

The drive is long and lonely. I sit alone in the back and the chauffeur doesn't speak. Around my neck dangles the glass charm, and I grip it tightly. Without it I wouldn't be blessed with the peace of silence. I watch out the windows as we turn onto a road closed in by trees, their leaves still full and green and shivering in the breeze. The air conditioning in the limousine is noisy but I'm grateful for it. Outside isn't particularly hot, but very humid and that always makes it worse.

This car is unique. I've never been in one like it. I've been in a limousine twice before, thanks to my unnamed benefactor, but they'd always had white shadows in them. This one must be brand new because it doesn't yet. It hasn't had a chance to accumulate them.

I glimpse white occasionally in the forest, but most of the time it's gone before I take a proper look. That's okay. I don't really want to see. When one of the Whites are close enough for me to really see, my stomach squirms uncomfortably. We pass one that looks just like a little girl peeking around the trunk of a tree, but there's no face or detail--just a silhouette of white. That's why I call them Whites. They might as well have been cut out from paper.

Except they do have shape, even if they don't seem to. And they have voices. Paper doesn't have a voice, other than it's own rustling. I clutch my glass charm a little tighter before remembering I could break it, and I let go quickly.

The limousine smells new. I like that about it; the scent of seat covers and plastic and rubber seems somehow reassuring. Finally I close my eyes and lean back in my seat. I hope we'll get there soon.

I think I drift off. When I come to, it's because the chauffeur, Mr. Kroger, is speaking to me. "Miss Fischer, the school is just around the next bend." I open my eyes and feel dismay to see many, many more Whites crowding the forest here, but it still isn't as bad in the city so I tell myself to deal with it. We take the turn and suddenly I see a sprawling white manor house with a fountain in the front and and old well off to the side with boards over the top. Mr. Kroger slows down the limo and then eases to a stop. I wait for him while he climbs out, walks round, and opens my door. He'd just scold me again if I didn't let him. "You're about to enter high society, Miss Fischer, so I suggest you grow used to how they work." That's what he'd say.

I ease out of the car while Mr. Kroger holds the door, my legs sticking out of my skirt like white bean poles. Mr. Kroger closes the door again and retrieves my luggage, escorting me to the door of the manor. I guess it's really a school, but it doesn't look like one.

Someone comes out to meet us, followed closely by several more Whites. A squat, kindly looking-woman with graying hair and big eyes strolls towards us, beaming. "You must be Hazel Fischer," she says to me and I nod mutely. "Now now, no need to look so gloomy! I'm sure you'll enjoy it here." To Mr. Kroger, she said, "If you take those into the foyer, we have some hired help who will take it to her room."

Mr. Kroger nodded, just as stoically silent as me, and enters the mansion. I follow with the woman. "I'm Mrs. Hardy, by the way," she tells me, still smiling. "I'm the assistant headmistress. You've never been to a boarding school before, I believe?"

I shake my head. Her chin bobs up and down knowledgeably. "Your benefactor sent a letter explaining everything. We've set you up in a nice little suite in the tower, and since it's so small you'll have it to yourself. He said that would make you most comfortable."

Finally I find my voice, my curiosity overcoming my desire to engage in no sort of friendly conversation. "Do you know who he is?"

Mrs. Hardy shakes her head. "Nope! Sorry dear. Just consider yourself lucky. Most children from circumstances like yours aren't treated to first-class boarding schools like this one for no reason."

I'm sure there is a reason, but since I don't know it yet I hold my tongue, simply nodding again. I turn my attention to my surroundings, studying them intently. The wood inside has been painted to look like white and green marble, and there's an impressive red rug with gold rope trimming filling the floor. The entrance area is large enough to host a party with stairs going up on either side several floors of balconies ringing the room. The ceiling is very far up because this is just open space, and there's a chandelier full of glittering crystals up above. Around the edges of the room are odds and ends of expensive-looking furniture with red covers, and at the very end of the hall is a large desk. Mrs. Hardy leads us there and I do my best to ignore the Whites in here also.

"Hazel Fischer is here to check in," she informs the thin, tweedy receptionist. She has many, many more Whites than Mrs. Hardy. They crowd around her, clinging to her and covering the desk and piling on top of each other. Just seeing it makes me feel queasy and trapped in but she of course carries on without noticing them.

The receptionist doesn't even look up at us, just shuffles around some papers before writing my name down in a log book. "Very good," she hums in a nasally voice. "You can proceed to her quarters."

Mr. Kroger sets down my things in a corner as indicated by Mrs. Hardy, then nods to me before leaving. I sigh, half relieved and half disappointed. At least he hadn't been the type to force any conversation on me. Mrs. Hardy pats my arm and waves me after her, so I follow, my hand going back to my charm. We go up the gracefully curving stairs--the banister looks perfect for sliding down on--and onto the first landing. "This is where most classes are held," she explains. "Some of the rooms on the top of the main building are used for bedrooms, but most are classrooms and such. Most of the living quarters are in the east and west wings. Yours is in the tower, so it's a bit of a climb but your benefactor assured me you'd like it." We continue up the stairs to the very top landing, then to a door at the very end. She unlocks it for me then passes me the key, a little gold skeleton key. "Don't lose that," she says.

Through the door are tightly spiraled stone steps, just like a castle in a story. She huffs at them but climbs them resolutely. I don't like how narrow it is, because there are Whites in here too and it's so close I can't avoid them touching me. My skin feels cold.

We come to a landing with a door, which Mrs. Hardy says is my bathroom. We continue, but then we get to another door, which opens to the tower suite. My benefactor was right; I'm immediately delighted with my surroundings. The room is circular, with a large bed complete with hangings, a window seat, a grandfather clock, a desk, and a large wardrobe. Windows are all over except for the side where the tower connects to the manor, so it's very bright and I have a good view of the surrounding grounds and forest. There are several Whites in here, but they don't seem to menacing and I figure it wouldn't be too much trouble to get rid of them. I turn back to Mrs. Hardy and almost manage a smile.

"You didn't look quite so sour there for a moment," she informs me cheerfully. "You're pleased with it then?" I nod. "I'll have Ollie bring in your things so you can get settled in. Supper is in an hour--the dining hall is in the west wing, right off the main hall, so it's hard to miss--and then after supper we'll go over the rules." She waits for me to nod in assent again then turns to leave. "I hope you enjoy yourself here, Miss Fischer."

As soon as she's gone I sit down on the bed. It's soft but not too much so, and I like the china blue coverlet. I flop down onto the mattress and stare at the white canopy above me. I wondered if I could enjoy myself here. I hadn't really been in a situation to enjoy myself since I was little….

A few minutes later, Ollie comes in with my luggage. He's a funny looking man with a bit of a hunched back but strong build, graying hair, distorted face, and bright eyes. I decide he seems like a good person right off the bat because he only has a single White following him. "Here ya go, Miss," he tells me, beaming the way Mrs. Hardy does. I stand up.

"Thank you," I mutter, and he leaves again. I begin to unpack, hanging clothes up in the wardrobe and putting a few odds and ends away. I don't have a lot, and everything I do have is from my unknown benefactor. I have a few books he sent me as well as a pretty little music box and a wind-up doll. I don't care much about dolls but I'd never had one before and I found the clockwork fascinating, so I kept it gladly enough.

The other thing I have is a snow globe. This is my only possession from before my benefactor; it had been a birthday gift from a dear friend. Inside is the scene of two children playing in the snow. It was custom-made, so the children resemble me and my friend, and it plays "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas." I stare at it for a moment when I'm distracted by the White sitting at the window seat and drop it accidentally. I gasp in alarm, but it rolls away unharmed and under the bed.

I immediately get down on my knees and lift the covers so I can see under the bed and retrieve the globe. Something white flashes and a cold hand seizes my arm--I cry out and scramble backwards, heart hammering. Just another White, I tell myself, trying to calm back down. They can't harm you, Hazel. Just grab the globe and be done with it. I grit my teeth and reach under again, twitching as the hand grabs mine again, but even though I can feel it it's not really substantial. I ignore it and grope around until my fingers clasp around the cool glass of the snow globe, which I retrieve and set on the desk.

Then I jump again as there's a deep gonging noise. Glancing at the clock I realize it's time for supper. I look around at the Whites again--one by the wardrobe, one at the window seat, one at the desk, and one under the bed. How typical. I'll take care of them tonight before bed. Heaving a big sigh, I leave the room and descend the tower stairs, locking the tower door behind me and following a trickle of students to the dining hall.