The Art of Never Letting Go

One

There’s a place called Hailsham, and it sits atop the highest cliff face overlooking the Bering Sea. The shards of granite slanting up towards its walls knife the sky and the trees that haunt the shadows of the guard towers rot from years of exposure to the salty mist. The walls are stone, built centuries ago. They guard the largest living Catholic Colony East of the Five Archways.

         In Hailsham there are four subsections of the plot: the residential area, the markets, the Church, and the Academy. Each serves its place, and if not, the consequences are more than dramatically enforced.

         Hailsham Academy is in the farthest right corner of Hailsham, and is the building nearest to the sea. Hannah’s dorm window looks out over the water, and now and then she’s lucky enough to feel the last particles of ocean water still in flight after have been crashing into the cliff face. She watches the sun fall into the waters before blowing out her candle, and this is her luxury. There aren’t many students at Hailsham who have the gift to see such beauty every night, and she writes about it in her journal.

         Hannah sits at the head of her bed and is staring out into the water. Its morning and she hopes that today is one of those days when the Vestals let the girls sleep for an extra half hour before calling the breakfast bell. The boys are always called first, and sometimes the Vestals are so caught up in everything that they forget to ring their section of the Academy awake.

         She watches the waves dance around and notices the splashing and the foam. She can subconsciously hear the murmur of the happenings deep inside Hailsham Academy and knows that the Vestals will not be forgetting them, and that yes, she would need to be ready when they finally come.

         Hannah gets up from her bed while lifting the covers up and off her legs. It’s cold in her little room, but that’s the way it’s always been and she likes it that way. Sometimes she purposefully leaves her window open at night so that she can brave the cold like some adventurer. So that she can feel how it feels to be out in the cold dead forests.

         Her room has always been the same; her bed pushed up against the far and left wall just next to the little window, and her desk and candle right next to it. The mirror’s past the end of the bed and against the wall with the door, but her closet door opens up and hides it from others.

         Hannah walks over to the closet and opens it and smells the fragrance of her clothing. Every last piece of fabric inside makes some sort of dress, all because the Vestals insist on women wearing dresses. Since she had the ability to learn Hannah has been told how wearing dresses was a women’s duty to the Lord and that anything besides that on her body would be to spite him.

         But Hannah has her dirty secrets. She smiles thinking of it, because sometimes when the Vestals aren’t prowling the floor, she slips off her clothing so that she’s be completely naked, and she’s hop inside her covers and feel the warmth up against her flesh.

         She sticks her hand in and starts flipping through the hangers. In all she has twelve dresses all of which her mother and grandmother made her. Most had flower patterns on them but her favorite three were just blue. When she wore them she felt like one of those people who went to the Lost Land of America on the boat. But every girl wore dresses like that, so she was no different than anyone else.

         Hannah’s not ordinary, but she’s not unique either. She looks like Pride and Prejudice and Where the Wild Things Are, or Ann of Green Gables. Her hair’s pulled back into to black braids that fall to her shoulders, and her few dark freckles on her skin bring out her grey eyes. She actually keeps her teeth clean, partly because she doesn’t want them to look like most others nasty yellow teeth, but also because she likes the taste of baking soda.

         From the closet she brings out the lighter blue dress, the one with the ribbon that cuts the dress in half at the waist. It fits her more adequately than the other things. She decides this dress is her absolute favorite and tells herself to remember to tell that to Claire when they meet in the Breakfast Hall.

         It’s Common’s Day which means they don’t have service in the morning, thank God. Hannah strips off her night gown (which was also made by her mother) and throws it on. She shuts the closet and looks in the mirror at herself and stares at her braids. They’re mashed up against her head because she’s an idiot and forgot to pull them out last night. Course she doesn’t care, but the Vestals will, and she doesn’t want to work in the Gardens during her free time.

         The bell sounds in the corridors and Hannah rushes over and reaches under her bed where she keeps her sneakers. They’re pretty stained, but again, she doesn’t care. Most likely within the next month or two she’ll inherit a new pair, probably too small and she’ll have to break them in.

         She slips them over her feet without thinking to put on a pair of socks and quickly moves to the door.

         Outside in the Corridor most of the students are opening their doors. Some, eager to eat the shit in the Breakfast Hall and get the best seating are already heading down the spiral staircase; Hannah can see from some of the girls’ ponies bobbing up and down as they descend. 

         She looks back down the other direction and sees none of the Vestals walking about which makes her happy. Usually some old bitch is standing there with her hands behind her back acting like she’s possessed by the Lord and it’s all Hannah can ever do to hold back her bile.

         Thank God for this happy morning.

         Hannah turns and walks swiftly to the peak of the staircase and begins to descend while her hands are busy behind her head straightening her braids again so as to just be cautious of the Vestals.

         The staircase is long, and it descends from the girls’ dorms and makes three twists around before meeting up with the boys’ staircase, and together they form another larger one which falls straight down into the Great Hall. Hannah steps onto the landing where the two spirals meet and looks up hoping that Gregory might be coming down so that she wouldn’t have to walk by herself, but doesn’t see him. She stands awkwardly looking around hoping nobody shouts her name.

         She waits another minute or so and figures Gregory must already be down at in the Breakfast hall. Then she follows the staircase down and walks along the red carpet.

         The place is lined with red carpet and from the ceiling hangs four large and ornate light fixtures. From the hall there are four archways, two on either side, that lead deeper into the depths of Hailsham, to school rooms and offices and other things. If Hannah were to continue moving forward through the swarming students and through the Great Hall she would end up standing in the Cathedral.

         She looks back at the staircase and decides to screw it and move on to breakfast. Claire and Gregory would most likely be there eating and she’d need to get in line quickly if she wanted to talk to them before they finished.



Hannah finds them sitting at the far end of the breakfast foyer eating dried corn and pastries with honey cheese. She stumbles over casually and slumps herself over the wooden bench while layering her head on the table. She stares pitifully up at Claire.

         “What’s up with you?” Claire is nibbling on a piece of her pastry and some honey cheese is stuck on her chin.

         Hannah thinks for a second. “I have a brain tumor. It’s malignant. I have a month.”

         Gregory blows corn kernels. Claire covers her mouth so the mass of soggy pastry bread and cheese doesn’t explode across the table.

         “I don’t think it’s that funny.” She continues, “Also I have AIDS and Syphilis. And did I mention I’m growing a penis?”

         There’s a loud screech of a bench across the flooring and Hannah can see Gregory leaving the site. Claire throws her head back but holds in a laugh. “You do know that all that stuff’s most likely happening to someone right now?”

         “No shit, it’s me.”

         “You’re going to Hell.”

         “You don’t know what Hell is. Kill me now so I can move on to the next stage of eternal torcher? Also, I’m pretty sure I’m the only girl in Hailsham growing a penis.”

         “You should be proud.” Claire says dryly as she takes another bite.

         A bell sounds at the head of the breakfast foyer and five Vestals are walking out from the kitchen. The first Vestal stops causing the others to do the same. She looks out across everyone and nods.

         Hannah notices how silent the room has become. The two hundred or so students are all watching the Vestals wondering what the morning announcements will be. Usually they all consist of ridiculous mockery of how incredibly incompetent they all are and how the Lord will damn them if they do not start putting out an effort.

         The first Vestal, Vestal Anna, speaks clear and precise out over the knobby heads of her watchers, “Today is Common Day, as you all should know. The other Vestals and I have taken it upon ourselves to completely remove the garden disaster from last week,” her eyes flicker suddenly to a group of girls closest to her and they break up, “silence please.”

         Vestal Vannic moves forward, her dress moving wave-like and torturous behind her. Claire stirs uncomfortable in her seat and leads towards Hannah, “She hates me, look at her.”

         She’s right, after all. The Vestal turns slowly and pushes her eyes right in Claire’s face and from all the way across the room. Hannah can see Claire’s life shrinking back into the orifices of her pupils.

         “All of the Vestals hate all of the students. We hate them and they hate us, those are the rules, Claire.”

         Gregory’s sitting at the table across from them, and Hannah thinks it’s most likely because the Vestals began to talk before he could get to the table. No attention. That’s great for them, because any attention causes doubt amongst the Vestals, and with doubt towards you, that lack of trust, that’s dangerous. It seems silly that trust is lost when someone can’t get seated in time for the Vestals to being, but that’s how Hailsham Academy works.

         The faded light from the ceiling high up in the building dulls the mood of the room and makes everything less blunt. Hannah can see Gregory’s face clearly because there are no shadows cast from other light sources.

         “You all leave no doubt in my mind that you will pass the assessments. That does not mean you are saved. There will be an all-day service starting tomorrow morning. Be ready at seven, ladies with your hair straight, no braids, boys, and shirts tucked in.” with the closing word the Vestals begin to make their way back into the kitchen.

         Once they’re inside, Hannah turns as Gregory sets his tray back onto the table and sits.