The Academy of Silence

The school looked beautiful. But she knew—beauty lies best when it’s hiding something dead underneath. The gates of Aramore Academy stood tall and ornate, forged in black iron and wrapped in delicate golden roses. It was more palace than school. A place for the rich, the famous, and the flawless. But Seraphina Violet didn’t feel impressed. Not even a little. She walked slowly, her soft school shoes brushing the marbled ground with hesitant steps. Her long black hair, slightly wavy and untamed, fell past her shoulders like a curtain, partially hiding her face. Her skin was ghostly pale, like snow untouched by sunlight. She looked fragile—like she might faint if someone shouted too loudly. Her lips were dry, not the plump red everyone else wore with gloss. And while she wasn’t fat, she didn’t have the thin, razor-sharp figure the other girls starved themselves for. Her weight was normal—but her shorter height and rounder shape made her stand out. Still, she was pretty. Pretty in a sad, sickly way. Pretty in a way that made you stare a little longer than you meant to. --- The Gossip Starts “She’s here,” one girl whispered near the courtyard. “She looks like a ghost… Is she even breathing?” “I heard her stepsister almost pushed a girl off a building at Saint Amelia’s.” “No—didn’t the girl fall? The one the guy liked?” “They were fighting over a boy. Typical.” “She’s pretty. Not hot, but… she has that weird porcelain doll vibe.” “I kinda like it. Like… she’d be the love interest in a sad anime.” “She’s definitely not skinny enough for the top 5.” “Yeah, but her face? Top 10 potential.” “She looks scared.” “Wouldn’t you be? Her stepsister is still in the hospital, and the other girl’s dead.” “They only transferred her here to escape scandal.” “Can’t run from a reputation, though.” “She gives me main character energy, but like the tragic type. She’ll either rise or break.” --- First Class – 10-A "Class, this is your new classmate, Seraphina Violet. She transferred from Saint Amelia's Academy." The teacher didn’t even look up. Just tapped her tablet like she didn’t care. “You may sit beside Reese.” A soft-looking girl with tied-back hair waved from the middle row. “Hi,” she whispered. “I’m Reese. Don’t worry, I’m not scary.” Seraphina gave a small nod. Her voice didn’t come out yet. --- Lunchtime Aramore’s cafeteria looked more like a high-end lounge. Velvet booths. Marble floors. Fresh sushi, pasta, sparkling water. But Seraphina didn’t care. She picked up a simple tray—rice, miso soup, a slice of melon—and sat at the very edge of the cafeteria. Bad move. "You're in my seat," a voice said. A tall girl with red lipstick smirked down at her. Her friends snickered. Seraphina stood quickly, avoiding eye contact. “Didn’t know ghosts could eat,” another girl whispered behind her. “She looks like she hasn’t eaten in weeks,” someone laughed. “No, she looks like she eats but still stays pale. Must be sick.” “Or cursed.” “I wonder what her blood tastes like.” Someone "accidentally" knocked her juice. “Oops.” Her skirt was soaked. She froze. Eyes turned. The noise dropped. Then a voice—cold, elegant, powerful—cut through the silence. “She won’t last.” Every head turned toward the center table. Celene. Long silky black hair. Legs crossed. Fingers brushing her lips. Calm and bored, like a bored empress. “She has the face,” Celene continued, glancing lazily at Seraphina. “But she has no spine.” Her tablemates laughed. Seraphina looked away. --- The Senior High Queens Watch On the elevated section of the cafeteria, where only senior high elites sat, Gusha leaned forward. She wore an all-white uniform jacket with gold embroidery—customized, not allowed, but no one dared stop her. “That’s her?” Gusha said, staring hard. “Seraphina Violet,” her friend confirmed. “Stepsister of Sasha—the one who fought Reina over Allen.” “And Reina’s the dead girl,” Gusha said casually, swirling her iced coffee. “I liked Reina. She had style.” “She’s not even hot. Why are people staring?” “She’s different,” Gusha said, then smirked. “Different gets devoured here.” --- The Beauty Ranking At 12:50 sharp, the hallway monitors lit up. ARABEAUTY RANKING – WEEK 1 1. Celene 2. Elise 3. Haruka 4. lia 5. Gusha 6. Hera 7. Violet (different student) 8. Lianne 9. Naomi 10. Jada Whispers followed. “She’s not on the list.” “Well, duh, she just transferred.” “She might replace Violet next week. That name’s confusing anyway.” “She looks too depressed to be beautiful.” “Watch. Once she learns how to smile, she’ll shoot up.” --- The Boys Arrive She walked quietly to her locker—but the hallway wasn’t quiet. Boys were waiting. First was Kael—tall, cocky grin, dyed ash-blond hair. “Hey,” he said, leaning on the locker beside hers. “You don’t talk much, huh?” She blinked. “I like that. Mysterious girls are kinda my thing.” Before she could reply, Dae slid between them. “She’s clearly not interested.” “I just said hi,” Kael muttered. “Exactly. Go flirt with Elise.” Others gathered—Ishiro, cold and observant. Rin, with guitar calluses and sleepy eyes. Julius, confident and already asking what music she liked. Ethan, who offered her gum and asked about her zodiac sign. Noel, who just stared and said, “You look like you belong in a painting.” Levi. Hiro. Renz. Alan. Jay. Andre. Some flirted. Some asked questions. Others watched from afar. More than 20 boys noticed her. But Seraphina only backed up, whispered “Sorry,” and walked away. Her trauma screamed at her to run. To hide. To disappear. --- Reese Walks with Her “You okay?” Reese asked softly. Seraphina nodded. “I’m not used to this.” “To attention?” “To… people.” Reese smiled gently. “You’ll get used to it. Or you’ll get strong enough not to care.” --- Before the Bell – Nathaniel Someone blocked her path. Nathaniel. Top 1. Celene’s fiancé. Dead eyes. Sharp presence. “Seraphina Violet,” he said. She froze. “Yes?” “You got Celene’s attention. Not easy to do.” “I didn’t mean—” “You’ll be Top 2 this quarter,” he interrupted. “You’re smart. Your records are clean. But this is Aramore. I don’t care who you were before. Don’t try to beat me.” He walked past her without another word. --- She Stood Alone The hall emptied. Bell rang. Seraphina stared at the windows—clear glass that showed a blue sky. Birds flying. Outside, Aramore looked like heaven. Inside… it was a graveyard of quiet screams. And she had just walked into it alive. --- Staffroom: The Secrets Behind the Smile Meanwhile, in the principal’s office, a conversation took place that never made it to the ears of students. Principal Vega rubbed her temples as she looked over a thick file. Beside her, Ms. Lirio, the Literature teacher, crossed her arms tightly. > “Another donation from the Alcantara family?” Ms. Lirio asked, voice bitter. “They’re doing everything to protect Camille,” Principal Vega sighed. “And Alexander’s parents too. You know his sister—Andrea—she’s the original queen bee of this school. Got pregnant and ran off to the States. They paid to keep it silent. To wipe it all off the records.” “And now Camille nearly killed a girl. Celestine’s dead.” “The media doesn’t know. Because money speaks louder than screams,” Vega said, eyes darkening. “Camille’s medical bills are being handled, and the board doesn’t want noise.” “And what about justice?” “Justice?” Vega chuckled bitterly. “Justice doesn’t survive in a school where tuition is power.” --- Scene: PE Class — Seraphina's First Day The sun was harsh against the school field that Monday afternoon, making the pale concrete shimmer like heatwaves. Seraphina stood quietly at the edge, hugging the borrowed PE uniform against her chest. It smelled faintly of fabric softener and school storage. She hadn’t brought one, of course. It was her first day, and no one even told her where the gym was until the bell had rung. The girls from other sections huddled together, snickering when she passed by. Some of them whispered just loud enough: “Is that her?” “Yeah, the transfer from the Saints Amelia.” “She looks sick—like she just got out of the hospital.” “Still pretty though. Look at that face. Wasted on a body like that.” “Chubby cheeks but same weight as us. Shorter legs, that’s why.” Seraphina’s face burned. Her long wavy black hair, still slightly messy from rushing, clung to the side of her cheek. Her dry lips trembled slightly, and though she stood upright, it was clear—there was something fragile about her. “Miss Violet?” a calm voice said. She looked up. A tall, lean man in a white athletic shirt approached her. His name tag read: Mr. Lorenzo Arcenas — P.E. Instructor. 26. Kind eyes, neatly combed hair, and a look of concern. “Yes, sir?” she said in a barely audible voice. “I was watching you earlier during the warm-up.” His voice was gentle but firm. “You didn’t even try to stretch. And your skin’s too pale. Are you feeling unwell?” “I’m okay,” she replied quickly, but her voice lacked conviction. He gave her a long look, then pulled a folded sheet of paper from his clipboard. “Here,” he said, handing it to her discreetly. “This isn’t a punishment or a medical excuse. It’s a plan. Just something to help you build strength gradually. I’ve seen students push themselves and collapse. I don’t want that to happen to you.” She blinked in surprise. Inside the paper was a handwritten note: --- Health & Wellness Starter Plan – Personal Notes by Mr. Lorenzo Arcenas Morning routine (before 7am): 10–15 min walk (light pace) Glass of warm water with lemon 1 boiled egg or oatmeal Midday: Avoid soda or processed snacks Small portion of rice + vegetables + protein Evening: Light stretches, no phone 1 hour before sleep 7–8 hrs of sleep minimum Optional supplements: Vitamin C, Iron (consult guardian) --- “There’s no pressure to do all of that at once,” Mr. Lorenzo added. “Just take it slow. You’ll be cleared for PE next week. Today, just observe.” She nodded wordlessly, holding the note like a lifeline. He offered a soft smile before turning away to blow his whistle. The rest of the class began their drills—jumping jacks, relay runs, shouting, laughter, complaints. Seraphina sat on a bench under the shade. For a moment, she watched them all. Girls running. Boys pretending to trip for attention. The Queen Bees tossing their ponytails with each exaggerated step. Celine, across the field, tying her shoelaces like she owned the world, not sparing Seraphina a glance. The sun felt too warm. The bench, too hard. But the note in her hand… felt kind. No one had ever done that for her before. Not in her old school. Not in her own home to be continued...