18/12/2024
THE SCHOOL AND THE LITTLE BOY
A little boy stood by the big iron gates, looking up at the huge school building in front of him. The school looked old and grand, with tall, dark towers reaching into the sky and walls covered in green ivy. It felt like the building was alive, whispering secrets.
The boy, named Oliver, was small and thin. His school uniform was too big for him, hanging loose around his body. People hardly noticed him. His parents called him "the boy," and others used to call him "the runt" or "the shadow."
But today, the school seemed to notice him.
The heavy gates opened by themselves, and Oliver walked slowly up the stone path. The air felt thick, and he could hear the sound of distant laughter, although he couldn't see anyone.
A voice said, "Come in, little one," but no one was there.
When Oliver thought about running away, the gates suddenly slammed shut behind him. He walked up to the big wooden doors, which opened as he got close, and he went inside.
The school seemed to swallow him up.
Inside, it was even colder. The long hallways had pictures of old headmasters and headmistresses, whose eyes seemed to watch him as he passed.
"You're late," said a voice from nowhere.
Suddenly, a gust of wind pushed him into a classroom, and the door shut behind him. The students there looked strange, with very pale skin and glassy eyes, moving stiffly like puppets.
"Welcome, Oliver," said the teacher, a tall, thin woman in a black dress. Her face was sharp, and her eyes glowed red.
"Take your seat, boy," she said.
Oliver sat down at a desk in the back. The chair felt ice cold. It seemed like invisible hands were holding him in place.
The lesson wasn't about math or history. It was something darker. The teacher spoke in a strange language that hurt Oliver's ears and made it hard for him to think. The other students wrote fast, their heads moving together.
TO BE CONTINUE!!!
