The Inatrix Academy

Waking up to the soft vibrations of my phone under my pillow, I opened my eyes and groaned. A searing pain from my wrist engulfed my arm as it had done the night before. I didn’t think much of it. It will pass, it always does. Pulling my phone out, my eyes adjusted to the brightness. 8.02am and 3% battery. Happy Birthday! people had posted on my social media, the same exact words they used the day before, just for a different person today. I swung my legs out over my bed and sat myself up, pulling my dressing gown off the floor and covered myself with its softness. The tantalising smell of fresh coffee filled my room and I could hear the drone of the television downstairs, playing the same usual channel. ‘Is anyone alive up there?!’ Shouted my mum, my favourite human being in the world. It had always been just us two, for as long as I can remember and she was the only family I had. The only family I’ve ever needed. ‘Coming, give me a minute!’ I replied, making my way to the bathroom. I combed my hair, sweeping it loosely back into my favourite scrunchie and splashed my face with water. Finally some relief came as I ran my burning wrist under the cold water. I’d always had a unique circular birthmark, usually barely noticeable but this morning it shone a radiant red, the outline of the circle more prominent and piercing than ever. Once dry, I covered it with my dressing gown, trying to ignore the burning sensation of the fabric rubbing against my skin. I didn’t want my mum having more to worry about, especially today. Making my way downstairs, I spotted my favourite mug full to the brim of steaming coffee and a pile of colourful envelopes neatly stacked next to it. I could usually tell who each card was from just by the handwriting, but one stuck out to me. A white envelope had my name and address on in the most beautiful calligraphy I’ve ever seen. Turning it over showed a crimson red wax seal enclosing the contents, bearing the initials I.A. I ran my finger over the crisp wax, it was cold to the touch and as I wondered who had sent it to me, my wrist seared with pain once more. ‘It’s open!’ Shouted my mum, whilst rummaging in the kitchen. Suddenly, my attention was diverted from opening the mysterious post, I hadn’t realised there had been a knock at the door.