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terrified to be known, desperate to be understood
Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. One post per week
  3. Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Adaptable
romance. angst. drama. modern. fantasy. supernatural. adventure. crime. period pieces.



Acadia Bay, Oregon, USA

September 9, 2017 - Saturday

Cool, Cloudy

Ravenwood Academy

Acadia Bay, is a small picturesque seaside town, a mixture of extreme wealth and poverty. Though, these two sides are usually separated. However, the town is known for a multitude of things. Number one being that it is the home to the high school Ravenwood Academy, that in the recent years evolved into a boarding school. It specialized in science, art and music, giving the utter best education and bringing in students from all over the states and in some cases, world. To say they're town was diverse, would be putting it lightly.

During Summer Break, Acadia Bay was prone to guest and tourist. During that time, the normally quiet town becomes very excitable with being able to meet new people. Many of the guest and tourist being half the academy student's parents. But, Summer Break was over and school was in, dying down the little town's enthusiasm. While it was Saturday, many of the local teens and kids enjoyed their time at home or out.

Unfortunately, eight teenagers were not going to be enjoying there Saturday. They would be spending it at school ... in detention. Each one of them there for their own reason but would all be sharing the same punishment. And it couldn' have been a worse day for their detention.

The air was crisp, grey clouds covering the blue sky, looking as if it would rain any moment. The wind began to pick up slightly, beating against the window of the battered car that belonged to none other than Miles Dawson as he drove ever so recklessly. More than once, his eyes wandered away from the road in front of him, his jittery nature causing him to shift in his seat, the wheel swerving every so often as he let it go to grab something else in his cluttered car. Truthfully, his mind was elsewhere, but that was the norm for the middle-aged bachelor. He was unconscious to how unsafe he was being or to the presence of the passenger beside him, his nephew. Which was ironic because the boy was the entire reason they were in the car.

They were on their way to Ravenwood for his detention.


"No ... no, it's not right. Oh no, today is bad, I feel it. I know it." Miles mumbled to himself, as he looked through the windshield and at the grey sky. The man brought his eyes back down just in time to avoid hitting a street sign before turning down a street. He continued to mumble incoherently to himself about who knew what, frowning all the while. The school building and campus both were in their view and at this point, his speed slowed down the more he mumbled and muttered. His gaze once again wandered away from the road ahead and to Casey. After doing a double check as if just realizing he was there, and knowing the "town kuckoo" he probably just did, he finally asked him. "You feel it too, don't you? It's bad. I don't like it. We should go home."

Yet, there was no turning the car around as soon as the teacher overseeing their punishment, Mr. Perez was seen, standing in the driveway, obviously waiting for the students to arrive. Miles winced at the sight of him, shaking his head to himself, but against all his will, he parked his car anyway. Coincidentally, his old Mercedes parked beside an up to date and shiny car of the same brand. Unfortunately, he was too close when first trying pulling in, scratching the other automobile in the process. The screeching warned him to put more space between them. While he was able to do that exactly, the scar on the other vehicle was still very much there.

Miles hopped out and checked the damage himself just as Mr. Perez came over to do the same. "Oops," he shook his head, not looking as regrettably as he should have been, "Wait a minute, this is Ethan Bancroft's car! If a Bancroft being here isn't a bad omen, I don't know what is."


"Uh, what?" Mr. Perez blinked lost to what the Dawson was going on about.

"Today is a bad day for detention or anything else for that matter. Can't you tell?" He went on despite the other man's clear confusion. Without pausing to let the English teacher respond, he continued on, speaking about the "evil air" and "bad things to come" without actually giving a proper explanation. However, it was clear to see he wasn't going anywhere, Mr. Perez wasn't able to get a word in, especially with his polite demeanour. Miles only paused to stop and look at the bruised boy to arrive on the bike, the Freak. "You?" he pointed, 'causing him to pause and look up at him.

"Okay, Mr. Dawson, how about we go inside and talk at my desk." The English teacher gestured to the school doors, this time taking the initiative to be a little bit pushier. And having the courage to seeing how Miles appeared to be lost in thought, staring intensely at the boy as if trying to put a puzzle together. "Casey, Frankie, wait here for the others, as soon as you're all gathered, head inside." As he instructed them, he led Miles away step by step until he was out of eyesight.

@neptune @Violet @winnie
Casey Dawson-LePage

There were warnings beforehand. In the weeks before getting on a plane and leaving Germany behind, his mother had thought to inject tidbits about Uncle Miles into random conversations—that he was a bit out there, unconventional, kind of weird—Casey thought she was exaggerating. Having arrived in Acadia Bay at the tail end of the summer, he had only gotten a few weeks of alone time with the uncle he barely remembered from childhood, but his mother was right, the guy was odd. It was little things at first, the messy state of the house, old books that needed to be in a certin spot, the way Miles sort of stared off into the distance and the conversations he seemed to be having with just himself. Rather against judging people, especially family, Casey was in the process of getting used to the eccentricities.

“Huh?” Casey asked, eyes focused down on his cell phone as Uncle Miles mumbled a worry at him. There wasn’t a great distance between the house they called home and Ravenwood Academy, and he would have preferred to walk to Saturday detention rather than risk a car crash. He should have been more alarmed by the swerving and sudden acceleration, but texting was more interesting. “I think I’d just get more detention,” he said, finally answering, though he didn’t know what Uncle Miles was so worried about.

Before they could discuss it any further, they were at the high school’s driveway and Mister Perez was standing there waiting for the other delinquents. Saturday detention, or detention in general, wasn’t something that Casey had ever experienced but skipping math class to hang out with Kendra on the football field had been worth it; making real friends was always going to be more important than calculus. “You can just drop me off here,” Casey offered, foolishly taking off his seat belt. The other man either didn’t hear him, or wasn’t paying attention because just a moment later, the old Mercedes was scraping against a newer, shinier model.

Breathing a sigh as Miles hopped out of the vehicle, Casey grabbed his backpack and followed suit. Mister Perez looked confused, somehow not used to the ramblings of the town lunatic. It was nice of him, though, to take Uncle Miles inside to calm down. Frankie, or the freak as some people liked to call him, had just shown up on his bike. “Sorry about my uncle,” he said to the other boy, hoping that Frankie wouldn’t take it personally. “I don’t mind your bad juju.”

Briana Holland

“Briana Grace, you’re not listening to me.”

Not listening wasn’t an option; it wasn’t even possible. Amelia Holland’s voice matched the sharpness of a knife and her tone rivaled the sting of her backhand, a new mark that Briana hoped was concealed by the make up on her face. “I heard you,” she replied to the woman, her mother, a pretty blonde who had just entered her forties and lacked a single smile line around her mouth. They had been arguing since Wednesday, a series of passive-aggressive comments that always ended with a slap or two; Briana was used to it by now, but it didn’t mean that she wanted to listen the constant nagging.

“Think of how this makes us look,” Amelia went on, her argument unchanging since the principal of Ravenwood Academy had called home about the incident in gym class. “What does Nathan think of you getting detention?”

Resisting the urge to shrug, Briana continued to stare out the window as the new Audi rounded the corner to school. “Nathan doesn’t think anything,” because if more than two of his brain cells rubbed together at any given time, his ears might have started smoking. “It’s just detention.”

Beside her, Amelia raised her hand once, but there was a small crowd gathered at the edge of the sidewalk and she quickly composed her. It was funny, to be saved by the new kid and his freak friend. “I’ll be back to pick you up at the end of the day,” Amelia said as Briana slid her designer bag onto her forearm, “don’t make me wait.”

Rolling her eyes, Briana got out of the car and made her way toward the two boys standing there. Usually, one of the teachers was waiting outside and waiting for students—or at least, that’s what Briana had heard—she had never actually gotten detention before. “Are we supposed to just wait around, or what?” the blonde asked, eyebrows raised at her unfortunate classmates. The only bright side to the day was that Natalie also had detention, and Briana gave a look around for the other girl, her best friend.

“My uncle scratched that Bancroft dude’s car, so Perez took him inside. He told us to wait out here for everyone else,” the new kid replied.

Briana looked over her shoulder, having missed one old Mercedes haphazardly parked alongside a new model. She hoped that Nathan didn’t have detention too. “Party,” Briana sighed, crossing her arms.
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