Path For Unity

“We have a problem,” Francie sighed, throwing her pencil down in frustration. Ethan sat down beside his sister, looking over to the paper she was examining. He looked at her, furrowing his eyebrows. “We need a parent or guardians signature.” She pointed out, breathing deeply. A small ‘o’ formed on Ethan’s mouth. He grabbed the pencil and paper, and scribbled the words, “Jason Parlow,” in neat script at the bottom. Francie stared at him in astonishment, noticing that he got ever edge and curl right. “How did you…?” She began.
“I was looking through his old files, for information on the school.” He stated, dropping a big manila folder on the table beside her. Francie looked at her brother briefly, and then gently opened the folder. Papers, old and new, slept quietly. She carefully picked up the paper at the top, examining it closely. Path For Unity, “Bringing families together for over three centuries.” It read at the top. Below it was a note, addressed to Francie and Ethan’s mother and father.
“Dear Mr. And Mrs. Parlow,” Francie started to read. “We have been informed that your children, Ethan and Francis Parlow, have reached the age of which they could attend Path For Unity, school for boys,” She rolled her eyes. “Francis is a girls name too!” She protested.
“Just keep reading!” Ethan urged.
“Your sons seem to have a most high IQ, and both excel in math, history, science, and self-defense. We will be glad when we see them attend school on November 3, 1992. We look forward to seeing them, and hope that they have the chance of attending. With high expectations, the teachers and staff of PFU.” Francie concluded, putting the paper down. “Do you think they have them?” She asked her older brother, her mind pleading for the answer to be yes. Ethan shrugged his shoulders.
“There’s one way to find out. That’s why we’re going. If they have mom and dad, then we have to go and get them.” He explained.
“But dad told us he would never send us there. Why would we go there intentionally if dad was to afraid to send us there?” Francie asked. Ethan nodded, and took a sip of his water bottle.
“Why do you think? He obviously didn’t have a great experience there. He must’ve done something bad, like flip off the teachers, or something like that. That’s probably why they took him. And mom. But I don’t understand why they took mom.” He pressed his lips together, concentrating.
“Well, you know how much dad cares for mom. Maybe they took her to torture her, you know, just so they could see him cry. Plus the fact that she could report them to the government. They are known to be the number one school in the country.” She exclaimed. They looked at each other for a moment, and then shivered at the thought of their parents being tortured. She put the paper back in the folder, and looked through it for more information. She found documents, signed with the signature that Ethan had used to sign the slip for school. The rest of the documents and papers were just old report cards and notes. “Hey, check this out.” She smiled, taking out the notes and reports of their father. Ethan looked over her shoulder, examining the papers. “It says dad was a straight A student, in most of his classes. He was a genius, especially in self-defense.” She smiled.
“Yeah, but it says he was also the most trouble kid in school. Drinking, smoking, lighting fires.” Ethan pointed to the words on the paper. “He must’ve really done some bad things.” The notes were from the teachers. “A shrewd, destructive student. Never behaved, but always did his work before due date.” He read aloud, licking his lips.
“Destructive? He’s never been destructive for as long as we’ve known him.” Francie protested. “He would’ve had to kill someone to be called destructive.” She argued. “Maybe this could be a reference to why they took him.” She added, curiously staring at the paper.
“Definitely.” Ethan agreed. There was nothing else left in the folder. They stacked all the sheets up, careful not to rip anything.
“Ethan, look at this.” Francie asked, pointing to the inside of the folder. He looked over and his green eyes sparkled with interest. There was a map, very neatly drawn, on the inside of the folder. “It’s a map. Of the school.” She stated. Running her finger over the title of the map, the ink of the pen smeared onto her fingers. She gave a low gasp and removed her hand from the folder. The ink was fresh. Still wet. “What…?” She was confused.
“There’s no markings on the letter, no signs of wet ink anywhere.” Ethan looked the papers over with great interest. “That means it’s only just been drawn.” He shook his head with confusion.
“Yes, I realize that.” Francie rolled her eyes. Her eyes ran over the map, soaking up every detail. The commons, the café, the dormitories, the hallways, the stairs, the classrooms, everything. It was a big school, and it no doubt was to have hundreds of kids walking through the halls. How was a ten and fourteen year old supposed to survive this type of place? Easy. Keep your head down and don’t talk to anyone who doesn’t talk to you. Or so they’d hoped it could be that easy.

* * *

Francie pulled the covers over her face, shielding herself from the light. She checked her alarm clock. Five thirty in the morning. Groaning she reluctantly dragged herself out of bed and threw herself in the shower. The hot water immediately woke her up. She sighed in relief and ran her fingers through her long, dirty blonde hair. That would have to change soon. If she had to look like a boy for school, she had to cut her hair. After her shower, she wrapped herself in a thick, purple towel, marked with her name. She brushed her teeth; barely taking any notice that her gums were bleeding after she was done. Grabbing her clothing from her room, she slipped into a pair of red shorts, a black tank top, and black converse. Her hair was put up in a high ponytail, tied back with a red ribbon.
“Ethan, get up.” She ordered her brother, marching into his room. He moaned and shifted in his orange bed. “Ethan, get up!” She demanded, throwing the covers off of him and hitting his butt. He jumped out of the bed, startled. Francie crossed her arms, a serious expression on her face.
“Ok, ok, jeez.” He grumbled, rubbing his butt. He motioned her out so that he could get dressed, and she did as she was told. She slumped down the stairs, dragging her feet. In the kitchen, she prepared eggs and bacon, laying them out on the island for Ethan and herself. A pair of scissors sat on the counter, glistening. She picked them up, and almost dropping them, once feeling the cold vibrations they were sending out. “You want to cut it now?” A voice asked. Francie jumped, dropping the scissors to the floor. “Oh, sorry.” Ethan apologized, picking up the scissors and handing them to her.
“It’s cool. Yeah, lets cut it now.” She agreed. Ethan nodded his head and took the scissors from her, motioning for her to sit on a stool. She did as told and sat down on one of the kitchen stools. Ethan took her hair out from her ponytail, and combed it down. Francie closed her eyes, her breath a little shaky. Snip. The first strand landed to the floor, like a lifeless thing. She drew another shaky breath.
“Relax, it will only take fifteen minutes.” Ethan tried to make her relax, patting her shoulder. Suddenly fifteen minutes felt like an hour when they were done. Ethan had wet her hair all over again, once it was a short enough length, ignoring the protests about already taken a shower. He then blow-dried it, pouring the hot air all over her head. Once her hair was dry, he took some gel and spiked her hair up. “Now we’re talking.” He grinned, and nodded his head in satisfaction. Francie sighed in relief that it was finally over. “Chill out, you look great.” He complimented, taking her to the mirror. Her blonde hair was cut down to her ears, spiked up at all angles. Her cheekbones were high up on her face, giving her a more male like feature in her face.
“Yeah, I guess I do.” She agreed, smiling. With that, she got a dustpan and broom, and started cleaning up the mess of hair on the floor.