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Segment: Confession

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Blurb

A prestigious school full of mystery. The school had a sadistic system that only a few students know. A well-known school with only 350 students a year, 4 years in high school, 2 sections per year. But there, underlying the school's prestige grounds, is a shadowed beginning and love that can't be.

Two entities, one deprived of power and one deprived of expression. A love story untold by no one shall now be in the spotlight as we continue to unravel the chapters of their own book.

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System High School
Lyle Simon's P.O.V System High School. Just like how the name sounds, it stands. A system as sick as anyone can imagine is being practiced here. "It's almost time." The school has an average of 350 students yearly. Despite the school being well-known, only a little can enter. You know why? Because the school has a certain criteria that will only allow a number of students to enroll. It was sickening actually, but I somehow managed to get sucked in. "I don't like this," Every school has a student council, right? We have one too, consisting of 8 students, and I as the president. I wasn't supposed to be here. No, I wasn't. I was supposed to be working and out of this island already. But I didn't have a choice. The rich drags the poor, and that's how I was dragged in this world. "We don't have a choice." Our student council isn't really the student council. Which means, we have two. You ask why? Just because of the fact that the students trust the student council that they picked us, handpicked us by the people above. We have a special function. And that is, we collect the students' confession every Tuesday and Friday. "We can just run." The list of the student council members; Lyle Simon, President. Cameron Rodrigues, Vice. Samantha Rogers, Secretary. Allie Anderson, Treasurer. Gerald Butler, Sergeant of Arms, along with Kristine Campbell. Joyce Evans, Fundraising Officer. Jamie Kelly, as Historian. We, in the fake student council, have one thing in common, and that is poverty. We are all smart, all willing to work, all are diligent and we all are oppressed and we eight are the only ones who are poor in school. "You want us to die?" The fake student council is all about recording the other students' confessions on the said dates and report them to the Principal. You may be confused, like I was when I first heard the system. Let me tell you again. The poorest can enter if they are smart and are at the top in all aspects, in all fields and views and must be ready to work dirty. The school uses the poor students that has extraordinary brain skills as a cctv to all other students. The poor students, us, are called the (fake) student council. If we, the fake student council cooperates or willingly accept any command without objections and questions, we are promised a very bright future. And with that, we took an oath before we set foot in school. "Not really," The oath is to not tell a soul about the system and the objective of the school. But as far as I was oriented, the objective wasn't enclosed with us. I suppose we were ought to figure it out on ourselves. If ever the oath is compromised, depending on how grave, it's either us getting expelled or the whole family gets deported somewhere where human lives are almost extinct or endangered. "We should probably go." You must be asking, if there is a fake one, where is the real one? Yes, well, the name of the real student council is Occult Research Club. And yes, they are rich. The members are as follows; Michelle Young, Pres. Kevin Pearce, Vice. Van Reid, Secretary. Richard Morrie, Treasurer. Addison Lewis, Sergeant as well as David Walker. Johnny Mason, Historian. "But I don't want to." We may be classified as poor but two inside the fake student council is the poorest of the poor. That's supposed to be the president and historian. The pressure is accentuated on those roles. The reason why is because the president is an asset to future business of those people above and losing such an asset would be a very wrongful move. As for the historian, well, the historian has the power to encode every decision made from above. The historians get to write down any new decisions, any improvement and development the school has done and even the people from above. But the historian also has the power to alter the transcript of records. The historian has the power to speak the truth to the world. "Come on, Jamie." Pressure. Poverty. Social status. Yeah. It's all around the world. But I guess I am also thankful that I was in this school. I have a chance to regain face in the same world that I lost it in. I get to have both a disadvantage and an advantage at the same time. I can have a bright future secured if I stay here but this wasn't some fantasy land. A month has passed since I enrolled and I'm already sick to my stomach. I've been to too many tasks already and this was just a month still. "Lyle, I can't anymore. I've been to too many hotels already. My body is already used so much, and quite forcibly at that." he shakes his head as he grabs my arm. I could tell that he was already exhausted. Dead tired running around for the errands and work for the student council too. I was tired too and it's only the first month. I shake my head 'no' to his protest. "It won't get us anywhere, Jamie. Protesting," he sighs. He knows I'm right. I grab his hand and give him a smile, trying to reassure us both that we'll survive this hellish school and its goddamn system. "Fine," Other than the secured bright future, there's no bullying around. If ever there is, even if it's a rich student, the student will get expelled. At least I could stay in this place without any more harassment. Jamie and I, along with the other members, proceed to where we hold our confession booth. We make our way towards the booth, separating after a few more steps since we have different booths. How else are we able to finish if we don't each have our own booth? "I hope you're not miserable in there." Jamie says and the only thing I could reply with was a chuckle. You see, this school isn't a normal school. There are no actual classes, just actual classrooms. This is more like a club school but the clubs aren't normal. Everyday, the students get to choose, the classroom or the clubroom but Wednesday are exceptionally for clubs. The clubs ranges from s*x partners to hitman. Yeah. Since the people here are from wealthy family, they can always get away with it. "The Segment: Confession will now hereby commence," "Yes, Ma'am." they all said as we finally separate. We all know that in every school, an hierarchy stands. "So today, I saw my crush walking down the hall with that slutty bitch..." We are at the bottom of the food chain, next is the real student council, and then the high-standard ones with boyfriends, plain bitches and assholes, and then the Queen. If you think about a Queen, you'll think about a Queen Bee. Cheerleader. Slutty. But you're wrong about that, well that only applies to her. "... and she said..." She's known as the founder's daughter. Her name is Amelia Taylor. She's indeed beautiful. She is smart - known to be but I still can't really say. We haven't spoken once. And she's reserved. Everyone knows she's at the top that's why everyone, boys and girls, keep on sucking to her. She knows this, but she doesn't do anything about it. "That's about it of my confession. Bye," Another one entered the confession booth and started ranting like the first one. I didn't pay any attention, I don't need to be. The recording device is doing its job anyway. All I have to do at the end of the day is to hand this over to the principal, along with Jamie. "Last week, I told you this. There's this b***h that keeps on sucking to Amelia. I mean, can't she see that Amelia doesn't like her? God, she sucks bad." Everyone needs to have a designated confession booth or one of us will have difficulty while the other has more free time. The school has acknowledged this problem and the solution started with us. "If Amelia shows just a slight interest in me, I know I'll directly bang her. Damn, her luscious body. Uhn," I scrunch my nose. Is she m**********g in here? I shake my hand in disbelief. These people don't know discrepancy. "She's so beautiful," She touches herself. I close my eyes and started to think of someone. She's an angel. My angel. My escape route from this hellish reality. She's comparably beautiful to Amelia. I can tell that she also has some brains. She's kind to everyone. She smiles to everyone that greets her and she doesn't get involved in criminal acts unlike the others. She doesn't abuse her wealth. But the only problem is, she's homophobic. "I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" It was a slap to me the moment Jamie told me about it. There goes my chance of making her my girlfriend. "I'm gonna go, bye!" There was also something in this school that's appealing to the poor. It was that the poor can also become rich if the poor can find a loving wealthy person. Yes, the poor can get married to the wealthy ones. That was the easiest way out but the process can be hard. It would be harder in all actuality. Falling in love takes time and in that time of process, the poor one will already be used and manipulated, resulting to no marriage in the end. Like I said, this school knows no boundaries. "It is now lunch time, everyone please proceed to the dining hall for your meal. Thank you." I hear the speaker announce. The school provides all the food, all the dormitories, everything. That's how the rich the school is. The school is inside an island. It was built here and after the school was established, stores and known brands started to buy parts of the land and extended their businesses here. In all honesty, this was like paradise. I exit my confession booth and make my way towards the dining hall. The cafeteria is the dining hall. We are served with food that 5 star restaurants cook, and butlers that serve us our food. We were also granted that privilege, even though we were poor. We assembled on our table. Yes, we have our own table but we have different classrooms. The school has to follow a stupid rule that states, no one in the student council shall have the same classroom. Me and Jamie are the only first years and the others? I don't really know. We're not that close yet. We are all wary of each other, that I can say. We don't really open up. Jamie is the only friend that I have here, since we're both pressured heavily than the others and we relate to each other. "You have Amelia later, right?" I nod my head to Jamie's whispered question. There was also a stupid rule that the school has to follow. Every after three years, a new student council president shall be elected by the school board and that elected student has to be a first year. It just so happens that I'm a first year and am scouted by the board. I still remember the day Amelia's father approached me and without a word, gave me a fragrant envelope. It was a letter with the school's symbol on it. He also left without a word that day. I know that that wasn't purely coincidence. I just know it. He looked like he knew me and waited for me outside my crappy house. "You have a crush on Amelia?" Jamie give me his 'the f**k' look as he sips on his water with poise. We were poor, we don't have much elegance so the school made us attend a workshop to make us act elegant and not barbaric. Made us know the difference between small and medium forks. The school made us pick which artistic skill we like to enhance but the president has to know all of it. Like I mentioned earlier, the president is an asset. I am obligated to know everything, from piano lessons to ballet classes. Of course not to the point that I get to proceed to the advanced class but just enough to enhance the basic posture, formation and overall performance. "Why don't you believe me?" As if on cue, Amelia came and sat on her usual table, having that empty smile again, looking so distant even though there were others beside her, talking so animatedly and exaggeratedly. She looked like she was suffocating in there. She was practically screaming 'help' with her face. "I don't." "Like I tell you, Amelia keeps on looking at you." "And when I look at her, she's not looking at me." Jamie rolls his eyes and slumps on his seat. Cameron clears his throat in a scolding manner. His menacing glare made Jamie sit up straight. "Sorry," Jamie mumbles under his breath. As you can see, everyone is jealous of the position of President and Historian. But they don't know that the work they give us is doubled from theirs. They simply like to have our seats because we are closer to the ones above and are granted more advantaged than the others. "Watch your posture." Cameron didn't waste this opportunity and gave me a glare before resuming his talk with Allie. The butlers came in, tardiness not a choice. We are always served at twelve ten, and not a minute late. Even if the student is not in his/her seat, the food will still be served. The school runs on time, like a system not having failure as an option. "Sorry, he glared at you too." Jamie sighs silently, not wanting to irritate the already irritated Cameron. "With or without your help, he glares at me with every chance he gets." I say as a matter-of-fact. "Oh, what did you do to make him angry at you?" "Nothing really. He just really hates me, I guess." "Does he have inferiority complex then?" "Seems so," The plate was right now in front of us. So little yet so pricey. I do believe that people only buy this because of the satisfaction and for supremacy but if you were raised in a poor manner, foods like these are trash. Little proportion, expensive, just something put together, ingredients that they call out of this world. If it was me, I'd serve something that everyone can get full with. But of course, I know that's not how the world works. Nope, it's not. "Let's just eat this trash then," Jamie read my mind. He and I share mostly everything. From thoughts to interests. He was like my other half, but a bit expressive than I am. We ate quietly, our forks and knives the only thing that can be heard. After I was done eating, I excused myself to the bathroom. I wash my face with water and stared at myself in the mirror. Thankfully my father was handsome and I inherited his face. Thick eyebrows, black hair, gray eyes, straight nose and just the right chin to complement my face, as well as the prominent jaw. I had my hair cut before school started. It was a man's cut, like my father's. I idolized him so much that thinking about it now, it hurts. The door suddenly opened, revealing Amelia with a wine stained shirt. She didn't notice me. She went to the next sink beside me and tried to scrub the stain away, but it wasn't going away soon. "Do you have any spare clothes?" She turns her head to me, her face not looking so distant anymore. Her blue eyes searching my gray ones for any ulterior motives. I can't blame her. We've only spoken now. We evaded each other's skins like plague and we didn't care whether the other was in the room. "I don't." her raspy voice came in ringing in my ear, making me gulp. I undress in front of her. I was wearing a nude polo and handed it to her without much thought. She looks at my body before reluctantly grabbing the polo. "Don't worry. I didn't sweat." "Oh, uhm, no, uh, thank you." She turns her back towards me and undresses. She holds the shirt above her head, making her nape visible. It was so white and untainted. Her figure was just like they all said. She had a freaking beautiful body and big breasts at that. She was wearing black bras and I can't help but avert my eyes. Fuck. She just had to wear black. I couldn't stay in place. Black and red is my go-to when I was in the mood and her body wasn't helping me stop my urge to ravage my hands and tongue around her body. I grit my teeth. "Here," she handed me her shirt which I took, not looking here in the eyes. "Okay." I put on her shirt which was a bit small. Oh, I forgot we have different heights. I was about 5 foot 8 while she was 5 foot 5 or 6? I really can't tell. "Thank you." "Don't mention it." "I'll return this to you." "Don't worry about it. Enjoy the rest of your day." I excused myself first and went back to everyone at the table. Jamie was shocked to see me wearing a different top. "Damn, that's Amelia's." "I gave her a hand." we were whispering to ourselves when Cameron inserted. "President, you look hideous. Why are you wearing that?" "Cameron, what I wear and I don't wear is none of your business. The school doesn't have a uniform policy, so why are you lecturing me about that?" "Tsk," was all he said before looking away. "Serves him right," Jamie whispered. "Tell that to his face." Jamie shakes his head and sips on his orange juice. "Oh, I almost forgot. Amelia's father wanted to see you after lunch." "Oh, well I should go." he nods at me before letting me go. I make my way towards the Principal's Office. I knock three times before going inside. I thought the Principal was with him but the Principal wasn't. He was alone, sitting on the Principal's chair and crossing his arms. "Good afternoon, Miss Lyle." Something about his presence irks me. His low voice echoed around the office, making me shiver and his piercing gaze. As if he was reading me like I was a book. His presence was recognizable everywhere I go. "Good afternoon, Sir." "Have you had lunch?" "Please cut to the chase, Sir. I am busy at the moment," "Mhm, indeed you are. Then next week," Something about this makes my stomach churn. Somehow, I didn't like what was happening. "Please take my daughter's virginity." I wasn't sure if I heard him correctly. I have heard about the higher ups ordering things like this to the council but right now, I was the one experiencing it. Of course they told us to sleep with others but not to their own family. This was a first to me. "Excuse me?" "I want you to take my daughter's virginity." he didn't even try to change his words. Oh, he did. He said please earlier, now it was a command. I grit my teeth, unable to process why. "There are much more suitable- "I believe I didn't give you any room for objections nor interrogation." I inhale. He was right. "I will accept as long as Amelia knows of this." "Don't worry, she and I have already agreed on this." "Okay," Fuck.

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