My name is Alexandria Bryan.
I am 17 years of age.
I currently attend SAS Academy with my brother Alexander.
I was lucky to attend.
Lucky to survive.
Before Grandpa passed, he fought for me; as such, this experience is one I shall always cherish and dread in the same breath.
I had a group of five friends when we started the academy.
Cutter and James are also twins who actually get along better than me and mine.
Sasha, Kayla, and Carly.
We also started the academy when we were thirteen, and we were so happy we just got it off and became friends, like in kindergarten.
The academy is sectioned into three main departments: science, arts, and sports.
The twins are from the Sports Department.
Sasha, Kayla, and Carly from Arts.
I am from science.
You're probably wondering how we met, but SAS Academy is an institution that reared us from when we were young and just getting our ears wet.
If your education path does not start at SAS Academy, it is very difficult to get into if one is not extremely rich, exceptionally brilliant, or preferably both.
In my mind, I was neither.
But Grandpa fought for me.
He demanded a chance of survival for me.
I think he knew his days were numbered.
It was the last thing he did for me.
SAS produces geniuses that contribute greatly to the country's development; it's a guarantee for success if one knows you attended SAS.
Luck are two sides of the same coin.
One side being a blessing.
The other side being a curse
I attend SAS with the brother that played behind the bookcase with me.
We passed each other in the halls.
But our lives are very different.
SAS Academy is an institution, a legacy.
That molds children into elites.
To be at the top of their field and give contributions to national development.
The sports department produces strong, fast, admired champions.
The Arts Department produces creative, expressive, unforgettable visionaries
The Science Department produces cold, precise, and calculated minds.
Well, that's what the institution expects.
We didn't choose SAS.
SAS chose us.
They are always in the background observing and testing us.
So upon our entry to SAS, our path is already decided for us.
I met the twins when I chanced upon Cutter being teased by some children—ironic, especially when one hears his name. I didn't think; I just ran over to help.
My life wasn't a disaster yet.
"Leabe im awone I tell miss on you!" I screamed over and over, pitting myself in front of him, until James and Miss Sarah ran to us.
The boys laughed.
Then we heard Miss Sarah's voice, sharp like a blade, "What's going on here?"
The bullies ran instantly.
My eyes popped open when I saw a boy looking like the boy I just saved.
My head continuously moved from left to right, looking at them in confusion as they looked at me, then each other, and laughed.
"Hewo, I'm James, and this is my twin brother, Cutter!" he said in a squeaky voice.
I laughed. "Hi, I'm Alexandria!" I replied in a high voice as well.
From then on we were thick as thieves.
They became my support and I theirs; their household was a loving one with two parents who loved each other and them very much.
Their home was warm.
Safe.
Their parents never pushed.
On my first visit, I didn't know how I should act.
This was a different environment.
I stood by the door, unsure if I should go in or wait to be acknowledged.
Am I allowed to sit?
Am I allowed to talk?
Their mom noticed me with a warm smile.
Her voice is gentle.
Her arms are open for a hug.
She beckoned me in.
And like that something inside me broke.
The contrast was so strong.
At Grandma's I had to be silent.
Her disapproving stare is in every glance.
Alex's constant distance every day.
To survive, I learned to be invisible.
At the twins' house I was seen.
Included in conversations.
I stayed more times than I should, but I was always welcomed.
Their home gradually became a safe space for me to just be me.
They are great at keeping secrets, as they never told their parents where or how I managed to get hurt when they would see the bruises.
After my grandpa died, and with Alex and Grandma not caring about me, I was welcomed and stayed over many times to count.
They have nursed me more times than I can count, and I have nursed them.
We taught ourselves how to defend ourselves and each other.
Not to fight but for survival.
Bruises became lessons.
Pain became practice.
Leading to the night.
Cutter said, holding out his hand to join with James and mine.
We made a promise.
"Always together"
I believed it back then.
We were strong together.
Nothing could shake us.
As we got older, that's when we met the girls.
Sasha.
Karla.
Carly.
After talking we found we have a lot in common.
We played together.
We studied together.
We ate together.
We shared our life goals.
We shared our dreams.
We shared our secrets.
And have been friends ever since, or so I thought.
Sasha was gentle.
Thoughtful.
The kind of person who noticed when you were quiet.
And sat beside you without asking why.
Karla was bold.
Confident.
The type who chased what she wanted without hesitation.
Sometimes too much.
But I admired her for it.
Carly…
Carly was different.
She smiled often.
Laughed loudly.
Said all the right things.
But sometimes…
When she thought no one was looking…
Her eyes changed.
Cold.
Sharp.
Measuring.
I noticed it.
But I ignored it.
Because that's what I do.
I ignore things that feel wrong…
Until they become impossible to ignore.
We all had our departments.
Our own paths.
But we always came back together.
At lunch.
After school.
On weekends.
It felt… right.
For a while.
But slowly…
Things started to shift.
It was subtle at first.
Small changes.
Easy to dismiss.
Whispers that stopped when I walked in.
Looks exchanged between them.
Conversations I wasn't part of.
Then came the jokes.
"Dria wouldn't understand."
"Let's not tell her; she'll worry."
"She's too sensitive."
They laughed when they said it.
Like it was harmless.
Like it meant nothing.
So I laughed too.
Because what else was I supposed to do?
Even the twins…
Started to change.
Not completely.
Not like the others.
But enough for me to notice.
They still protected me.
Still stood by me.
But there were moments…
Where something felt… off.
Like they were holding something back.
And Alex?
We can't forget Alex.
He watched.
Always watching.
From a distance.
From across the courtyard.
From the hallway.
From places I couldn't always see—but somehow felt
His gaze had changed.
It wasn't indifference anymore.
It was…
Calculating.
Like he was trying to figure something out.
Something about me.
And for the first time in my life…
I started to feel something I couldn't explain.
Not fear.
Not exactly.
But something close.
Something quiet.
Something creeping.
Like standing in a room where everything looks normal…
…but something isn't.
And you don't know what.
Or why.
Or when it will reveal itself.
But you feel it.
And you can't unfeel it.
I told myself I was overthinking.
That it was nothing.
That I was just… broken.
Seeing things that weren't there.
Because that's easier.
Easier than admitting the truth.
That maybe…
Just maybe…
The place I thought I belonged…
Was never really mine.
And the people I thought were my safe space…
We're slowly becoming something else.
Something I didn't understand.
Something I wasn't prepared for.
Something…
That was already beginning to pull away from me.
The past always has a way.
To mess with your current life
And your future life.
In unimaginable ways.
Being so broken inside.
My greatest wish was to belong somewhere.
To have people who not even love me
But who liked me
People who didn't look at me with disgust.
For someone to say "I see you."
To feel validated in the eyes of others.
To feel wanted.
Just to know your opinion is sought after and acted on when given whether in agreeance or refusal.
Just to have the right to be whom I want to be with no apology.
No agreeance form anyone.
Just to be able to say….
"I am Alexandria:
And be known for me.
Not Mom.
Not Dad.
Not Grandma.
And certainly, not Alex.
Alexandria.
Dria.
Me.
And I didn't even realize it yet.
But I would.
Soon enough.