It was screwed up, Jennifer was aware of that. It was some sort of Stockholm syndrome, wanting the approval of a school that saw her as nothing more than an advertisement, a trick of the the light designed to trick the public into believing that the average student at the school was like her. She spent hours of her time labouring just so she could get a grade point higher than before, just so she could spell a few more words, and just so she could run a little farther. The worst part was that it was working.
“They have the best reputation for students,” her mother had explained when she asked why they’d chosen to send her and her sister there, “Their students become CEOs, Doctors, Astronauts, and the lot. Hard workers.”
Hard workers it turned out that had high levels of depression, ended up in abusive relationships, and died via suicide more than any other school in the area. And that was just the girls advertised to the public and shareholders. The real stats for the school were no higher than any other school in the district, maybe a point or two above the rest at most but because the star students tired around got so much attention girls like Lisa were treated as lazy outside of the school and it was during the fourth year that she finally snapped and decided she hated the school and more than that she hated Jennifer.
Harsh words were whispered behind Jennifer’s back or to her face, Lisa and her friends would refuse to let her sit near them at lunch, and worst of all Lisa found every opportunity she could to disengage herself from Jennifer. They still roomed together. Jennifer on the left hand side and Lisa on the right but they stopped talking altogether unless it was mandatory or for something mundane.
With no one to talk to she had free time and free time was empty time the school filled for her. Honours class was back, so was spelling, so was track and field, but now there was a class specifically designed to teach her to dance. It was taught by a dead eyed teacher who spoke in pure monotone. It was apparently a tradition of the school to host dances every year and star students got extra lessons. Regular students got lessons as well but they weren’t as perfection based. No one had their legs slapped with a ruler if they weren’t held in th right position. They all had to learn dances by partnering up in the most awkward fashion possible. Back and forth, twist, twirl, and so forth. They learned multiple forms and maneuvers and had to perform them for marks. No matter how intensive it got it never even brushed upon what they had to do in the advanced class. One girl from each year starting at four was collected into a room and barked at until they got the movements just right, just perfect, and just angular. Every other girl had done this at least once before so Jennifer’s face burned as the teachers taught her intricate steps and motions that she failed to repeat as quickly as everyone else.
The autumn was highlighted by a visit from a former star student. She showed up at the school and was toured around like some sort of celebrity, shown off as what all the girls could be. Beautiful, intelligent, and happy in life. She had a high ranking political position and seemed to have the portfolio that screamed “future Prime Minister of Great Britain,” however as happy and chipper as she was she left without saying goodbye. No one was apparently supposed to see her but Jennifer caught a glimpse of her leaving and nearly screamed. She had gone from lustrous and pretty to shrivelled, tired looking, and gray haired. Her skin was wrinkled and her eyes empty. She was like a husk being brought out by the teachers. Nothing came of it until a few days later when the news broke that she had committed suicide in her London home. Jennifer only found this out thanks to a newspaper left on the Headmistresses Desk during one of her checkups. Apparently the school had issued a statement and it was believed she had done it because of a lack of progress in her career and a recently failed campaign. The visit to the school was believed to have been the woman simply trying to reconnect with a time in her life when she was successful. Jennifer however couldn’t help but disagree especially considering the headmistress suddenly looked twenty years younger with her breasts once again not sagging, her hair back in a youthful lustre, and her body looking energized. To a girl who saw the headmistress maybe once a month or less this wasn’t noticeable but to Jennifer it was and the Headmistress seemed ignorant to the concept that Jennifer knew about her sudden change. Actually all the staff seemed to look better, none were as obvious as the headmistress but most looked as though they’d dropped a year or two in age and yet no one seemed to notice. She wasn’t sure if she was just naturally attuned to that sort of thing or if it had something to do with the fact her mind was technically thirty three years old. Whatever the reason was it freaked Jennifer out quite a bit and her fear only intensified when she passed the first years in the hallway one day and met eyes with a girl she had both seen and not seen before. She had hair exactly like the politician, eyes exactly like the politician, and a mole under her left eye just like the politician. Except this girl was six and the politician had walked away and died. Jennifer was just unnerved after this. She stopped sleeping, she stopped eating, and suddenly her grades slipped and she was in the headmistresses office again. She didn’t want to say anything but the headmistress was so calm it convinced Jennifer she was insane so she ended up blurting everything out in a freaked out manner. The headmistress grew a shocked look for a second before snapping her fingers. Suddenly there were bindings on the chair and a little screen popped up in front of Jennifer filled with flashing lights.
“Now we’re going to forget we even saw that now aren’t we?” The headmistress asked while rising to her feet and walking to the window. Jennifer blinked and stared at the headmistress then at the seizure inducing screen. She blinked sure something should be happening so after a few seconds she dropped her voice to a monotone a replied with a quick, “Yes,” that the headmistress snickered at. Jennifer looked at the screen as the headmistress shut it off and snapped her fingers. The screen went away and Jennifer shook her head playing along in some weird hypnosis game.
“What just happened?” Jennifer asked.
“I said you can run along now dear,” The Headmistress explained with a wave of her hand. Jennifer scooted her chair out and ran off knowing the sinister smile of the headmistress was behind her now.
She forced herself to choke down food, she forced herself to get sleep, and she eventually resumed normal life at the school. That week of failure was just gone from her records and suddenly Miss Keane was teaching her after school as if she always had. Jennifer decided not to question it as Miss Keane taught her about diet and sleeping and Jennifer learned so much she could practically fall asleep at will.
Everything seemed normal until they were picked up on the final day. They climbed into the car and much to Jennifer’s utter shock that little first year girl followed them, that politician with the mole. It got even stranger when their parents greeted her like she was their child and Jennifer exchanged an odd look with Lisa.
“Who is this?” Lisa asked as the new girl was buckled in.
“Your sister,” Tucker replied in deadpan like Lisa was playing some sort of stupid game. He slammed the door shut and got into the driver’s seat. He turned the key and suddenly the entire car filled with a cloudy gas. It smelled like lavender, almost like a car freshener, and burned Jennifer’s eyes. She coughed and hacked until it cleared up and when it did she was taken aback. Her mom now had dark brown hair. So did Gardina. Dark brown hair that matched the politician girl. She glanced at her twin and they both screamed in shock realizing they had even greener eyes now, now tint of blue anymore they were pure dark green now just like the politician girls. Their dad had the same eye colour.
“Cut that out!” Their dad shouted and they both fell silent and exchanged a look ever few seconds with their mouths agape. It was clear that whatever brainwashing was going on at the school wasn’t affecting them and for the first time in a long time they had something in common.