Nightingale (2012) Genre: Mystery, Epic Tragedy, AU Rating: PG-13 (such an innocent rating :D) Word Count: ~4,800+ Summary:  Bomi Evans, (A.K.A. ‘Bea’), is a troublemaker in high school (or so they call her); however, the authorities have finally convinced her legal guardian, Aunt Karen, to send her to Bast Academy--a notorious as well as unknown private school in the middle of nowhere. Through her journey to the school she meets someone strangely familiar and later stumbles upon interesting allies.   A/N: For those who read the first version: I’m about to throw curveballs your way. Try to dodge those horrendous minds ‘cause the characters are going to be switched around here :] Oh, and here I go again with Harry Potter quotes. Point ‘em out honey bunnies! Character && cameo spots belong to EXO, OC’s, SHINee and MBLAQ.  

Chapter III

There is no point in arguing. Says the man that wields superiority because of a flimsy piece of metal. Bea would like to see how an officer would react if she were to whip out a badge of her own and wave it in his face, maybe pick-pocket the weapons in his holster and boast about it obnoxiously. The lack of limpidity when she asked how long her rehab--DearGod--sentence will last is absolutely ridiculous. There sure as Hell is a good point in arguing though, it prolongs the sentence.

As long as it takes. That’s much too long. An unknown estimate of time that is up to her cooperation? But being measured by others? It’s unreasonably unfair; she’s not a danger to herself or anyone around her (being on a Hit List doesn’t count, those people deserve punishment). She feels uneasy about the whole scenario, as if the split-decision to send her away was planned out prior and wouldn’t be a temporary as they let on.

What gave it away was the accomplished expression that Sergeant Walker didn’t bother to hide. ing prick. She thinks of him as sadist for staying quiet while she bickered and squirmed with her aunt. Rest assured that no amount of arguing would erase the black smudge that’s going to appear on her permanent record, but a convincing--last attempt--feign of innocence and they did promise that it wasn’t going to be so negative that she’ll be convicted as criminal as a minor. The school report will mark Bea’s deficiency as a personal ‘self-improving’ leave-of-absence.

Tsk, what a sentimental thought.  Like all she needs is a flippin’ epiphany and BAM! Her life’s set. Yeah, right. Like it’s that easy.

The last week of school passed by in a daze--as per usual for anyone that skips denial and goes straight to the acceptance stage--with knowledge of her unfortunate Fate. Bea wondered if that was what inmates on Death Row felt like before execution. It actually sounded mighty nice at that moment; preferably lethal injection while she’s asleep. That way the nightmare will abruptly end with no memories.

So Bea’s remaining days resulted in speaking little to nothing (in particularly to Karen), slacking in class and refusal to finish end of the semester projects (what’s the point?). Her friends worried about the sudden change and asked what happened to their limb, but she just shrugged them off. Bea didn’t know how to tell them that as soon as winter break started she wouldn’t be around. Sure it’s normal to leave on vacation with your family, but not coming back is unheard of. How does she explain that she isn’t returning for the second semester, that she was transferring to a boarding school for Gods sakes and will be gone for God knows how long?

 

She dropped the bomb the last day of class. Namjoo didn’t believe it, Suzy appeared angry and Minah looked like she was going to cry.

 

In the last moments of solitary in her bedroom--of the past years that made up her life--Bea exhaled deeply. Dark eyes overcast with nothing but numbness, she traced the collection of graphic novels in the bookshelf (‘They’re not comic books!’ She reasoned with her aunt so many years ago), the drawer and wall shelves that will collect dust, the lime-green rug under her feet, school textbooks stacked neatly in front of the desktop where she did her homework and the grey swivel chair.

Her room--no, former bedroom--looked no different than it did this morning. Everything was in place, yet the things that were hidden had changed. Most of her wardrobe was packed away in the brand new pinstripe suitcase that Karen unceremoniously brought home and awkwardly announced was for Bea’s ‘trip’.

She crammed only the necessities; clothes, toiletries (those she was told she didn’t have to), and the silver iPod from her last birthday. That’s it. She doesn’t plan on spending much time away from home.

Bea reached behind her, on top of the nightstand and plucked an old frame. An old Newspaper clipping showed a grimy pixel image of caution tape and a totaled vehicle. There was no text--it had been cut out--only the black and white picture of her parent’s car. Soft footsteps made her set the frame back in place.

Knock, knock. “Are you ready to go?”

Bea turned her head, a permanent frown across her face and dark eyes narrowed. She unfolded her legs and stood up off the floor, a bowl of uneaten cereal in her hand. She walked towards her aunt, looking past the older woman and barely brushing shoulders as she walked out. In the kitchen she set the soggy bowl of FruitLoops in the sink and made a grunt of disbelief with what met her outside the front door.

A thin layer of fluffy white coated the ground.

 

Aeroport airflow is set to a seasonal standard, which basically means that no matter what time of the year it will always be chilly inside the terminal gates. With Autumn barely gone and Winter just beginning, Bea wore a simple cardigan over a sleeveless shirt and jeggings--it’s not cold in her opinion--and though Karen is used to her lack of warmth this was seriously ridiculous. She herself was wrapped in a parka, complete with scarf, earmuffs and mittens.

(“All that isn’t necessary.” Bea stated, giving in to the lavender scarf that her aunt so graciously wrung around her neck. ‘You could get sick.’ had been the excuse.)

Near the drop-off area they faced each other, a packed suitcase next to the younger girl kicking skid marks on the floor. Karen looked around, more apprehensive about leaving her underage niece then Bea felt about being abandoned--that was her choice adjective.

Karen tried to keep calm when she spotted what she was looking for. A tall figure weaved his way around a crowd, lingering at the timetable and pretending to be concerned with departures.

“Take care of yourself.” Karen hugged her one last time, throwing a straight glare at him as his eyes flicked to his peripheral. Even behind the unnecessary sunglasses he wore, she knows he’s watching them. “Try not to cause any trouble.”

Bea scratched her nose when she pulled away. “I’ll be going now, don’t want to miss this life-altering experience.”

“Don’t sound so excited.” Karen’s attempt to lighten the mood faltered easily. “This really is all for you, Bomi. Give the Academy a chance.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.  I’ll contact you when I’m deemed suitable for society again. Bye.” Bea her heel and called over her shoulder, “Good luck with the boyfriend by the way.”

That was a kick to the gut. Behind her back Karen turned poignant because, no, that man was neither her boyfriend nor anything would she voluntarily go within ten metres of. In fact because of him she had to wear a horrendous amount of make-up to hide her eyebags; anxiety kept eating away since that man’s unannounced ‘visit’--even if he brought that disgusting ‘gift basket’, it didn’t make it right or him any less repulsive.

He had given her a choice to send Bomi to the Academy or he would take her without warning. It’s not like it could be reported as kidnapping. Their society will just silence the case and probably staple her lips together for tattling.

Karen bottled her resentment as the man with trained eyes began to move toward Check-in, lining up near Bea with a few passengers parting them. He raised a hand to slip the dark shades down the bridge of his nose and sent a slight nod of acknowledgement, eyes no longer flashing an abnormal blue hue. If it weren’t for her pride and worry about that fact, she would’ve flicked him off.

In all sense she had a right to be worried. The vacancy of speckled aqua in his eyes means that he hasn’t fed. He hasn’t drunk anything in a while, how is he keeping control in such a populous area? Unless…he’s holding back.

In all sense she had a right to be angry. Karen thought that everything died with her brother and his wife. Her sister-in-law even promised that as long as their children didn’t display discomfort or signs, they would be safe. Promises can be unmet. After their accident Karen went as far as cutting off communication (with the exception of sending a letter now and again to her mother), moving cities, changing her surname, adopting Bomi and promising herself not to tell the child anything.

I’m sorry, Bomi.

Now they’re back, but this time they offer safety. Karen really didn’t want to agree, but she had to. It was only a matter of time.

I’m so, so sorry.

 

Bea glanced over her shoulder while her passport and ticket were scanned. Karen was gone. She slumped, taking back her visa and passing security.

This is downright unfair.

Just as she found her departing gate threatening grey clouds formed outside. She concluded that the universe was telling her not to leave.

I don’t want to. It’s not a choice.

She held her arms crossed in the waiting area, eyes aimlessly watching the surroundings. Despite being cold and windy, it’s officially the Holidays, which means families are hoarding to the aeroport like fruit flies to fermenting bananas. The chatter, batter and excited squeals are less than welcoming to her ears. She purposely shared an intimidating blank look to children, whose smiles turned upside-down, and old women looked at her with rudeness; it’s a great way to keep people away.

Bea never liked unnecessary things anyway.

“Flight 718 to--” her ears perked. “…will be delayed due to storm clouds--”

Bea groaned and slouched further into her seat. Her foot is tired from tapping and the inside of her cheek is raw. She felt greatly uncomfortable with so many people around--the small the area she waited in was nearly overstuffed.

Slushy water tapped lightly at first, that much she didn’t mind, then grew denser during the delayed period. Bea scrunched her nose, not liking how close she chose to sit next to a window. She shouldn’t be thinking about emergency landings and oxygen masks, but seeing the runway slick with water has got her mind turning and palms sweating.

Water and cold temperatures aren’t a good mix. Ask anyone. Frozen runways. Yikes.

“Pardon me, Miss.”

As soft as the voice was...it still scared the bejesus out of her. She jumped up out of her seat, fingers fisted on her sides and eyes wide. The stranger looked down at her with surprise and took a step back, holding up a hand in innocence and gesturing beside her.

“Do you mind? Everywhere else is full.”

Too many distractions, she reasoned that that is why his approach was silent. She nodded and quickly sat back down, lifting her duffel bag off the empty seat next to her and turning back to the window.

“Pardon, may I ask you a question, Miss?”

He hadn’t taken a seat yet. She craned her neck to see his face. He looks…impossibly familiar. Can he be…? “You…sure.” She shook it off. It couldn’t be Stalker-Man or the burglar from her dream.

“Are you a new student enrolled in Bast Academy?”

What an outrageously precise question. “No, but that’s where I’m headed.” She replied just for kicks.

“Ah, I see. Looks like we’re in the same boat then.” He looked a tad disappointed as he plopped down, looking around as he did and brow furrowing. “May I ask