A/N: Hey I;m so sorry that i's been a while. I sometimes get distracted from things but I promise that I will finish this story, you just may have to wait a little. I'm so sorry.

Chapter Four

The pamphlet really didn't do the place justice. You just can't portray how creepy that place was with a picture.

The real academy (as opposed to the picture) was like twenty times creepier. Oh and the pamphlet totally didn't mention anything about the cemetery that was located in the back of the school. Yeah that's right a cemetery. It wasn't a huge cemetery only like 20 to 30 headstones, tops, but still it was dead people!

After a five hour, silent, car ride – I refused to talk to anyone and everyone else just seemed to take after me – we arrived at the place Mark and I would be calling home for the next year. Of course Mark could leave any time he wanted, I couldn't.

We - Teresa, Dad, Mark, and I – got out of the car and looked around. I can honestly say the view wasn't any better than the one I had from the car.

"Aren't they a little early for Halloween?" my dad asked.

I was tempted to laugh but one smile would ruin my whole angry/sulking image I had worked up, so I had to hold the laugh in and instead I shrugged, "Whatever."

I followed Mark to the trunk to get my suitcase, "I don't know Kate; I think it looks kind of… quaint."

"Quaint?" I was starting to question my brother's sanity, "How about medieval, or gothic, or dark, or creepy. Yeah I'm going to go with creepy."

I shook my head at him, and followed my dad through the walkways surrounded by great stone buildings.

The buildings were all grey with strange little creatures carved into the stone above their tall dark windows. On top of the buildings were gargoyles and other creepy statues. I felt like I was being watched. I couldn't see into the windows to tell who could have been watching me, but I still had that feeling. It could have been a teacher looking at a new victim, or another student watching, and remembering when they made this walk, or – I couldn't help myself from thinking this – it could have been one of the statues. The last one sent a shiver down my spine and made me walk faster. I'd only been there ten minutes and the place was already getting to me.

As I stepped onto the steps leading to the main building – where the headmistress's office and the cafeteria were – a crow cawed. It sounded so close to me that I jumped. I heard someone laughing and looked around to glare at the person, but no one was around. Sure, my family was but they were all a head of me and hadn't seen. I froze to the spot for a second than ran up the steps.

Sadly, the inside of the school was decorated no better than the outside. Who ever made this school was in love with stone and statues because that was what everything was made of. That lead to the inside being drafty and cold. I couldn't wait for winter.

The halls and floor were made of big stone slabs side by side. They were only interrupted by heavy wooden doors that were carved with creepy little creatures with sharp looking teeth and evil smiles. The little creatures were, however, out done in creepy-ness by the big stone statue outside the headmistress's office.

If you pictured the worst beast you could, and then made it ten times more frightening you would probably get something close to what was outside the office. It seemed to be a cross between bear and a wolf. From the floor, the thing came up to my waist and I was about five feet and 8 inches tall. The sculpture had frozen it in a snarl that showed off every one of its sharp teeth. The only thing more menacing than its teeth was its claws. Its legs looked strong and muscular. The sculptor was good at his art; the thing was life like. I couldn't help but see a glint in his beady eyes.

"Nice doggy," I said as I walked by it, "I would hate to be around if that thing came to life."

We went into a small room, and were greeted by a small woman behind a mahogany desk. The desk had claws at the end of each leg and more of those creepy carvings.

"Dawson?" she asked, her face looking like she had swallowed something sour, "take a seat."

I noted, as I sat in a seat beside Mark, that she didn't say please.

"Welcome to Calisto academy for Disgruntled Youth," she said with no enthusiasm at all, "I'm Ms. Leonard your Headmistress. You will be sent to me at any sign of disobedience. Of course, I won't be seeing you again, though, right?"

Mark nodded as she gave him a stern look. The old me would have done the same, but I was tired of that me. If they were going to label me as a delinquent then I might as well act like one.

So when she turned her gaze on me – which I will admit scared the crud out of me – I managed to just shrugged, "Yeah, sure, whatever."

"Katelyn!" Teresa gasped, but my dad managed to keep her from saying anything else.

"Good," Ms. Leonard nodded stiffly.

She wasn't an unattractive person, Ms. Leonard; well what I should say was that she had been attractive once. She was short but slim, with brown hair, that if it had the proper attention could have looked very nice, but years at the school – I assume- have ruined her looks.

Her face, that looked like at one time had smiled, was now hard, cold, and emotionless. There were lines of stress around her eyes and mouth. I highly doubted her ability to smile now. Now, it looked like her face would break if her lips were pulled upwards.

She had her hair pulled up in a tight bun and was wearing a charcoal, ladies, business suit. All in all, Ms. Leonard looked exactly how I expected the headmistress of a school for disgruntled youth to look, scary.

She continued to inform us about the schools rules and regulation, and then gave us our time tables. I was horrified to see that every minutes of my week was planed out, even my weekends, and we had to be in bed by 10:00.

As bad as that was, that wasn't the worst of it. The worst was, "Counseling!?"

Everyday from 4:00 to 5:00 I had a group counseling session. I couldn't believe what my world had come to.

Ms. Leonard turned her death glare on me, "Yes, Ms. Dawson, you have to face the consequences of your actions."

"But they weren't my actions," I wailed – more out of habit than anything else at that point, "I don't do it!"

When I said that I didn't do it, something changed. The mood in the room changed; Ms. Leonard's face changed. It lasted for a second, but I was sure deep down it happened. It was like a shadow fell over her face, and I felt like I was staring into the face of pure evil.

A second later, though, the shadow was gone, and no one seemed to have seen it, no one except me. It was like nothing had happened. Something did happen, however, I just didn't know it at the time.

"Well, you will have plenty to talk about with your group Ms. Dawson, but a little bit of advice, admittance sets you free. Whether you like it or not Ms. Dawson you did something wrong and you must admit your guilt… or else pay the consequences."

That seemed like a threat. I didn't know if it was just me, but it sounded like a threat. When I asked Mark later he said I was imagining things, and maybe I was, but to me that sounded like a threat.

"You're dismissed," and with a wave of her hand we were back outside her door with the hell dog.

The cafeteria is the worst place when you are a new student, because it is the best place to find all the cliques that exist at your new school. You will most likely have a hard time finding a safe place to sit.

At a school for disgruntled youth it's even harder. If you sit at the wrong table you could get killed by the truly disgruntled.

It wasn't like there weren't people willing to let us sit with them. Well, to let Mark sit with them anyways. There was a table of girls I saw eyeing my brother, but Mark hadn't notice them. Which was fine with me since I knew there type and didn't like it.

Luck was with us, though. In the back of the room there was a table that was almost empty. There was only one other person sitting at the end of the rectangular table. He was a brooding boy with brown ruffled hair. He was picking at his food and didn't look like to much of a danger, so I made a beeline for the table hoping Mark would follow.

"Well, it's good to know some things don't change at schools, even schools for disgruntled youth," Mark said picking at his 'food', "Can you tell me which of these is my meat and which is my vegetable?"

I looked up from my own disgusting food, "Your guess is as good as mine."

As I debated whether putting what was on my plate in my mouth would kill me or not- I wasn't so sure it was edible - my mind went back to the strange occurrences of that afternoon.

"Hey Mark?"

"Yeah," He said looking away from his food.

"Did… did you notice anything strange happen back in the office?" I asked hesitantly. I didn't know what I wanted him to say; if he said yes than that was really scary, but if he said no than I may have imagined the whole thing, and really am in need of counseling.

He looked at me quizzically, "Strange? When?"

"Like, after I said I didn't do it," I started picking at my food again to avoid his stare.

"No, no I didn't see anything… why Kate?" He sounded concern, for my mental health. Just like I knew he would be if he hadn't noticed anything.

I shook my head, "Nothing, never mind, it wasn't important."

I looked out across the cafeteria to avoid looking at Mark. That was when I noticed the petite brunette walking towards us.

"Look, I'm, like, totally sorry but my friends are, like, total jerks and thought it would be, like, funny to throw my book bag into, like, a tree," She let out a little girlish giggle, "and then, like, dared me to, like, ask you to get it for me. They like, totally, didn't think you would, like, do it, but I like, totally, disagree."

Wow, I was wondering when she would come over here. She was one of the girls I had noticed eyeing Mark before. She was exactly what I'd imagined Miranda would look like with dark hair, and if she said 'like' all the time. Thank god Miranda doesn't do that.

"Well… I guess I could help you…but," Mark said looking at me.

I could see in his look that he wanted to go help the girl, and for whatever reason that really irritated me. He was just too nice. He wanted to see the good in people. I use to be like that but I have learned that some people just don't have good in them.

I wasn't going to ruin his feelings for him, however, so I put on a fake smile, "Go help. I'll be in the dorm when you get back."

Mark smiled at me than turned to the girl, "I'm Mark."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Natasha," was the last thing I heard before they left.

I let out a frustrated growl and slammed my fork down on the table.

"I'm Natasha," I mocked cruelly. I knew Mark was nice, but I didn't think he would fall for that after living with Miranda for so long.

I looked down and saw the guy sitting at the end of the table staring at me.

I quickly mumbled, "Sorry," through out my dinner and went back to the dorm.

I waited for Mark in the sitting room for more than two hours, before giving up on him, and going back to me room.

My room was a cell, literally. It was tiny and there were bars on the windows, bars! After putting in a bed and a desk there was only enough space for walking around.

The only thing I was more horrified to find in my room than the bars, was the view from my window. Right below my second story window was the graveyard. I'm not kidding. I had a perfect view – if you want to call it that, since I don't think you can call something involving dead people perfect – of the graveyard.

My possessions had been dwindled down to my ten thousand sets of the school uniform, two shirts, a sweater, and a pair of jeans. Since no electronics are allowed at school all I had was three or four books to amuse me.

That was what my life had become, living in a cell with a graveyard view, and three or four books.

I couldn't help myself; I finally broke down and cried.

The only thing worse than the school's uniform was their rule for my hair. I had to put it up in either a bun or braids. Since I'm too lazy to put my hair up in a bun, I put it in too pigtail braids.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I started playing with my canary yellow tie, "I look like a freak, a big yellow freak."

It was true that the only yellow thing was the tie, but you have not seen that yellow. It out shined everything else, and not in a good way.

"You're alive," I said slightly bitterly when I met Mark in the sitting room.

He looked at me confused, "Wa-what?"

"Never mind big boy," I said patting him on the shoulder, "let's go eat."

We ate breakfast at the same table we ate at the night before. The kid from the night before ate in the same spot as well.

We didn't talk very much, that was mostly because Mark spent the whole time making faces at Natasha.

I went on to find that school at an academy for disgruntled youth isn't that much different from school, school. The teachers were dull and the students refused to do work.

Lunch was the same as breakfast, Mark made faces at Natasha and I got so frustrated I told him to eat with her next time.

I walked into my group counseling with great hesitation. It was the last place I wanted to be. My fellow 'disgruntled youths' were seated in a circle. At the top of the circle sat a brunette woman who was dressed like Ms. Leonard was, but was much younger.

"You must be Katelyn, please, come sit," the women said pointing to a seat across from her, "Group, meet Katelyn Dawson. Katelyn, this is your group. Now, why don't you tell us why you are here?"

"Umm, Kate," I corrected. I hated being called Katelyn…it was just so…formal, "Umm… I'm here because my time table told me to."

The other kids laughed and the counselor frowned at me, "Why are you at the Academy?"

"Oh, you meant the school?" This received more laughing that I wasn't trying to get; I honestly didn't know what she had been talking about.

'Yes, Katelyn, the school," She said exasperatedly.

"Kate, I'm here because my parents sent me here," I said bitterly. My answer didn't sit so well with Ms. Counselor.

She sighed as everyone else looked amused, "And why, Kate, did your parents sent you here?"

"Because my step-sister is a lying witch," only I didn't say witch.

My swearing didn't affect the counselor but it still managed to make everyone else laugh. That is everyone else laughed except for one. I noticed then, for the first time, that the guy that sat at the other end of my lunch table was in my group. He was the only one not laughing. In fact he looked anything but amused. He was staring at me with a slightly unreadable expression.

"Funny, because it says here," Ms. Counselor looked down at a page in front of her, "that you were sent her for changing your school grades."

I glowered, "No, that's just what Miranda wants you to think."

The women's face changed. Just like in the office with Ms. Leonard, something dark flashed across her face, and just like in the office I seemed to be the only one who noticed.

"What are you trying to say, Ms. Dawson?" Her voice was colder than a thousand winters; I thought I felt a faint breeze blow through the room, but no one else reacted.

I opened my mouth to answer but someone else started speaking before I had a chance.

"She wasn't trying to say anything, Ms. Sims," the boy from the cafeteria said.

I glared at him, but he didn't see because he was looking at the counselor – Ms. Sims it seems she was called. How dare he talk for me! He didn't know me! He doesn't know what I was trying to say!

"Actually I was trying to say something," As soon as I opened my mouth his head snapped back towards me. His face held a faint trace of horror, but at the time I was too angry notice it or do anything but glare at him, "I meant that I didn't do it. I didn't do any of the things they say I did. I was framed. I am innocent."

In that second the atmosphere of the room changed. It became icy cold and the words Ms. Leonard spoke the day before came back to me. Or face the consequences, I was starting to think I may have found the consequences when the room went back to normal and everyone looked the same as they did before. They didn't seem to have noticed to temperature change. No one else reacted to what had happened – or I thought had happened – no one but me… and the guy from the cafeteria.

Ms. Sims went on to pestering some other poor kid and I didn't pay attention for the rest of the hour. My mind kept wandering back to what had just happened… or what I thought just happened. I didn't know. I had no clue what was real and what wasn't any more.

The guy from the cafeteria was still looking at me too. As strange as it might sound, he was staring at me like I would imagine one would look at someone who had just been sentenced to death.

I left the room as fast as I could when we dismissed. As fast as I could, however, wasn't fast enough to keep me away from Mr. Lunch table.

He caught up with me a little ways down the hall.

"What the hell was that? Why did you go and say that?" He looked pretty mad, "Don't you know what you just did?

"What I just did?!" I yelled. If anyone had the right to be angry it was me, and I was going to us that right, "I told the truth. I defended my innocence. That's what I just did!"

I had no idea who this guy was, or who this guy thought he was, but he was stepping way out of bounds. He was getting on my nerves.

"Don't you know what they can do to you here?" He asked sounding desperate.

"What they can do to me? Ooo, are they going to give me detention, or better yet maybe they'll kick me out! Now that would be a tragedy," I mocked, "And who the hell are you to come in here and tell me what I can or can't do?! You don't even know me!"

He was quite a bit taller than me, about a head taller, so I had to look up to glare at him.

Instead of yelling back, like I thought he would, he just shook his head and deflated, "You don't know, of course you don't; no one does," He muttered to himself before turning around and walking away. He had given up.

After a few steps, he turned back to face me, "Mark my words, Katelyn Dawson, something is terribly wrong at this school, and if I were you, I'd watch my back."