I knew it was a mistake almost immediately. Mrs Deem talked very fast, and her accent made it almost impossible to work out what she was saying. It was something along the lines of, "I'm sure you'll love it here!" and "It's an absolutely charming place!"
I didn't say anything, and itched my entire body that was red and probably covered in fleas from my disgusting pink and yellow frock. She didn't even seem to notice. She lead us right up to the grand front doors, that seemed to be straight out of the 1500's, and knocked twice on the gold lion knocker. I wished the lion would gobble her up there and then.
"Aha, the last arrival!" came a voice from inside, even before the door was fully open. When it did, it revealed a tall, brisk looking man with an absurd curled moustache, in tuxedoes and a waistcoat! I had to clamp my mouth shut and bite the inside of my cheeks to stop myself laughing. He looked so stupid!
"Ah, yes, a bit late this one," gabbled Mrs Deem, pushing her way into the building. "Come along, dear. May I introduce you to Mr Cornetto!" She said this without a hint of irony, but all I could think was an ice cream with a moustache and a tuxedo, and this time I couldn't help it.
"What are you laughing at?" snapped Mrs Deem. I stopped giggling, and she eyed me suspiciously, before pursuing Mr Ice Cream through the doors. It was dark inside, so dark I could barely see anything, but my tour guides explained that it was dark because they had to have a "Special Effective Opening Ceremony!" This was dumb.
So, so dumb.
"And this, is your dormitory!"
I hadn't even noticed what they were saying; I had sort of zoned out half way through their lectures. They had taken me up countless stair cases, down corridors, through halls, past class rooms, but there was one word that I heard. Dormitory.
We entered a dimly lit room, full of candles on sticks and little brass lamps. The walls were covered in peeling floral paper, and along the far wall were six iron beds with flat, white sheets. On either side of them was an identical wooden wardrobe and a bed side table. I stared. It reminded me of a Victorian orphanage. I might as well be in an orphanage.
I was as good as dead to my parents.
And that's when I realized.
I hadn't even said goodbye.