The Wraith – Bonita

 

 

How I hated this school when I first arrived! Rather ironic, since I later came to be the headmistress…

 

I spent the first years of my life in an orphanage. It was one of the better ones, fortunately, and I have no bad memories of it. I came to the attention of the adults when I showed above average intelligence in playing with the other children. I learned to read at age 4. I showed I could do simple math soon after that. They began to tutor me as best they could with the resources they had. When potential adoptive/foster parents came to visit the orphanage, they would always bring me out hoping to place me with someone who could encourage my mind. There were no takers. I don’t know why.

 

Eventually the orphanage managed to scrape up enough money to enroll me in this school. It was understood that I could remain at the school as long as I showed ability to progress with my studies. If I started to lag, then I was to leave unless more money was provided. I knew this was my only chance. But I hated being there as a “charity” case. The other students let me know what they thought about my second hand uniforms.

 

I quickly excelled in all subjects, which furthered the distance between me and the other students. I finally stopped caring that I was friendless. The teachers were strict, but not cold in demeanor. I later discovered that whenever I needed another uniform, or other items of clothing, there was always something that was available to me. I was told it was second hand, left by departing students, but many of the things seemed brand new. I found it interesting that these “departing students” always wore the same size as me…even shoes.

 

The years went by. The students came and went. I remained. My education continued through the generosity of the teachers and small grants. I eventually passed the exams to become a teacher myself. I now had enough money to pay for my own clothing and personal items. My first trip into town was when I was 20 and ready to start teaching. My only trips there were for necessities. I preferred to stay at the school.

 

More years went by. More students came and went. I still remained. I became headmistress at the age of 40. At age 50 enrollment dropped and parts of the school were closed off. When I was 60 the school was no longer supporting itself and more rooms were closed off. Too many repairs needed and not enough money. I spent my 70^th birthday in my office, looking out the window at the empty grounds. The classrooms were empty. The dorms were empty. I was empty. I had come to love this place. I knew from my last visit with the doctor that my heart was giving out. I stopped taking my medication. I truly don’t know when I died, but I am at peace.

 

I remain.