{Ms Williams: Ghosts...
Boy: Three of them. Very good friends.
Ms Williams: You befriended them?!
Boy: They were nice, once I got to know them. One was cranky, one was calm and the other... the definition of shyness. But they all had one goal.
Ms Williams: And that was..?
Boy: Freedom.}
That was the best sleep in the boy's life.
He woke up, his mind cleared for the first time. He couldn't remember the first time he felt this... good. Hell, he couldn't even recall the time he slept on a good bed.
This... this was a first.
The bell rang outside, startling him out of his well-deserved bliss. It was loud, and mind-jarring. 'How can people sleep in this?', he thought as he got out of the bed.
He walked around the place, his mind and body free of demons and evil dreams.
Or so he thought.
Taptaptap—
The sound came from the window. The boy jumped from whatever state he was in. The tapping continued—fast and impatient, like the source had no time for idleness. Plucking courage, he walked to the window, and opened it.
There they were. The three ghosts.
They came again, much to the boy's fear. The main one, stepped forward, causing him to stumble back and fall on the floor as they phased through the walls like it was nothing.
"You... you came back?!," he couldn't hide the fear in his voice.
The main one stepped forward again, making a gesture for the boy to not be afraid.
"Please, don't run away. We want to talk."
Talk? After instilling fear in him like a drunk man in cocaine? The boy wasn't buying it. He scrambled to his feet, clutching his chest to soothe his heart as he stumbled on the bed.
"No, we don't get to talk. Not after what you did."
Knock-knock-knock—
He suddenly turned to face the door, his heart calming down, like the angels have sent him a divine intervention. Shaking his head, he then turned to face the ghosts—
But they were already gone.
For the second time. He cursed under his breath, blaming the gods that sent them away. He was close to trusting them, then the knock scared them off. 'Damn it,' he muttered as he opened the door.
Father Jacob, looking as formal as ever, greeted him and gave him his signature lopsided smirk. His eye twitched for what seemed to be like the seventeenth time.
"Morning, kid," he said joyfully, "The chapel awaits. Orientation will start very soon."
He sighed. This wasn't the first time he has seen him like this, and it's been just two days! His posture screamed disinterest as he stepped out to the shining sun.
"Let's just get this over with," he said exasperatedly, "I'd rather be under the bed than to stay in a chapel full of... people."
Father Jacob laughed. This boy was becoming very interesting.
"Don't fret, kid, it won't take long. Maybe an hour or two."
An hour or two?!
"You're kidding me?!," he exclaimed.
He shook his head, then patted the boy's head as if he was his son.
"No. I'm not kidding. We can go three hours on end," he confirmed.
He left him standing by the doorframe, jaw dropped slightly. 'The audacity,' he thought as he reluctantly followed him to where all shit will go down.
...
Inside the chapel;
Boys and girls were chatting their hearts out, making a noiseball of pollution, and adding liveliness to the room. Some were looking at each other with dreamy eyes, some were just stoked to be there, hell, even some we're gawking at the chandelier, mesmerised by its beauty. Happiness was all they were feeling right now.
Well, most of them, to be honest.
The boy was the exception. Standing at the corner, hands clamped in his pockets, he looked like he'd rather be in a tent in Alaska than to be bored in this shithole they call a chapel. Well, according to some people.
He'd wanted to stay hidden from the limelight, from the sudden popularity he was getting. From each glance, his popularity grew. And he hated it. Every boy amd girl wondered where he came from, how Father Jacob managed to bring in yet another stray. And how he managed to rise up in popularity by just... being there.
But, nonetheless, he wasn't here to be popular. He was here to find himself. And get rid of all the fucking demons who still tried to haunt his dreams.
Then—
The doors opened.
Six figures walked in, clad in white and golden epaulettes on their shoulders. Strings of gold were slung on their cassocks, adding some aura as the room fell silent. The choir, A.K.A. The Sisters, were singing their hearts out, their faith in God amplifying their voices. As if that would be enough to blast in the boy's ears. His eardrums were killing him with each note the choir sang.
After some time, and some eardrums to fix, they reached the altar, just a table covered in white cloth. They looked at the children with bright but stern faces, gazing upon those who'll potentially make noise. The Archbishop—standing in the middle—spoke soundly.
"Welcome, you all..."
"Thank you, Archbishop," they all responded.
"I'll make this brief. This orientation is for you to be inaugurated in this school, for you to make yourselves at home and abide by the rules. I hope you all understand."
"Yes, Archbishop," they responded.
Then Father Jacob stepped in.
"But... as human as you are, someone has already broken one rule."
A gasp followed, echoing in the room.
"Indeed. He was indulging... in some 'activities' with a cleaner at the back. He couldn't keep it to himself, that boy."
The boy grimaced at the corner. For some weird reason, he wished it was him. Well, who can blame him? He's never had sex with someone his whole life, and some brute has already beaten him to it. 'Lucky bastard,' he cursed under his breath.
"We caught him in the act," he continued, "Some boys chased him around the place this morning while we had to deal with the cleaner."
One of the Fathers suddenly whispered in his ear, and his face brightened as the news was clear.
"Well, it seems they've caught him."
He then looked at the door and shouted:
"Alright. Bring him in!"