The only way out of here is through true talent.

Everyone thinks I’m american but I’m not. I have to speak with the accent, it had been ingrained in me, that if I talked any other way I would have been killed. And that was a long time ago, but I can't change it. It's easier to lie. I tell people I was born in California, and I was raised in foster care. They say I’m well adjusted for it, and really I am, I was one of the only ones who made it out of the performing arts school alive.

I was actually born in Britain and I lived in a small village just outside of Wales until I was 14. My grandma was a novelist and some of her books had been turned into films or whatever so she was swimming in it. She died when I was three, and left her estate to my mother. So we lived in an absolutely massive country house. As far as I can remember, the house was always full with my mother’s friends, various strange ‘aunts’ and ‘uncles’. Mum told me one of her friends, Hugh, was my father but he was adamant about me spending no time whatsoever near him.

I spent most of my time in my room, no one really looked out for me. I stayed at my friends houses a lot to see how a real family operated, knowing back home my mum, my alleged father and countless others were drinking and screwing until the early hours. Every night, I looked out the window and saw them on the lawn chairs outside, drinking and smoking and laughing screechingly. I tried to listen into their conversations the best I could, and often I made out my own name being said. By all of them.

Mum told me she was sending me to a boarding school when I was fourteen. Even then I knew she was blowing away her inheritance very quickly. I wondered how she was supposed to afford boarding school but I didn't question her. She made everything seem very reasonable and she helped me pack my bags and I remember her wearing a dark, sequined beret that was too lopsided on her head.

Supposedly, the boarding school was all the way in London. We drove for about 20 minutes until we stopped in a motorway cafe. She turned the waitress away and said we had food from home, which pissed everyone off greatly but they didn't kick us out. She brought a huge flask of juice and a jam sandwich with her that she tossed over to me.

To this day, i don't know if she drugged the juice or the sandwich. We sat in the cafe for a while after I’d eaten. Mum decided to buy a coffee from the front because she got sick of the cafe owners scowling at the cheapskate who goes into a cafe and brings food from home. It was then that I started feeling drowsy and nauseous. I told her I thought I would be sick and she simply said we were going to leave and she left her steaming coffee there on the table.

We made it all the way to the car before I actually vomited. It went all over my shirt and some went on the back wheel of the car, mum groaned and somehow I fell to the floor and hit my head on the concrete. That was when I passed out.

--------

I woke up in my new bedroom. The walls were strikingly white without a single stain or blemish and the floor was light, neat tiling. My bed was plain white, white bed frame, white sheets and a hot pink pillow. Three dresses hung from pegs in the wall, wrapped in plastic. And there were two posters on the wall; Britney Spears and a Spice-world movie poster.

I sat up, feverishly but a cold hand pressed to my forehead. I looked into the face of a white girl with long colourful braided dreadlocks, she looked to be about 20 years old and dressed exclusively in juicy couture.

“Stay down. You’re sick, right?” she said, her nose ring twinkled in the lights. “Everyone’s a little sick when they arrive here”

“Where am I?” I mumbled

“Your mom told you you were going to boarding school, didn't she?”

“This doesn't look like a boarding school…”

“Come on, it's a performing arts school. We’re hardly gonna look like hogwarts are we?”

“So are you a teacher or something?”

She laughed, pressing a hand to her thin chest “Oh, sweetie, we don't believe in all that. I’m a vocal coach. My names Natalie. I’m going to teach you how to become a pop princess”

“Natalie, I can’t even sing. My mum didn't tell me I was going to a performing arts school”

Her pencilled eyebrows lowered in almost a scowl “I’ll get you singing soon enough” then her glossy lips turned again, “Get well soon, Phoebe!”

---------

They made me get out of bed after three days. I hadn't been scared at first, just confused as to why I was actually there. When they finally decided I was good to leave my room, Natalie came to take me away.

She wore a mini skirt and a playboy hoodie. She didn't speak to me as she waltzed in, just ran her pink nails across the dresses on my wall.

“I want you to wear… this one!” she said after a long wait. She tossed it to me, a glittery green dress with puffy sleeves. “Change into it and I’ll wait”

I did as I was told and she led me out my room. The walls of the corridor were the same horrible hot pink as my new pillow, and they were splattered with posters, posters of the Olsen twins, Paris Hilton and various disney stars.

“I just can't wait for you to meet the others.” Natalie said vaguely “And I can't wait to hear you sing. I bet you’ve got real pipes.”

I couldn't sing, I kept thinking, I was just worried that the ‘others’ would laugh at me when they heard me. And when she finally opened the door to a classroom I took a deep breath. The room was the same white as my bedroom, and celebrity posters were once again all across the walls. one boy and two girls sat in the four chairs spread around the room. There was just one seat spare for me. I took it.

Natalie sat down at a keyboard by the front. There was a tiny mic attached to it and she spoke through it. “I’ve told y’all about Phoebe, haven't I? Hm. it’d be unfair to make her sing today, right? You’d be so nervous singing in front of people you don't know”

Her frightening hazel eyes attacked mine and I just nodded quickly.

“Hm. You’ll sing for me at the end of the week, on Friday. After you get to know everyone” she scanned the others “Oh, Kelly. It's your turn to sing today”

Kelly stood up. She looked completely terrified, she was about 15 and had soft auburn hair tied into a topknot and she walked to the front with caution. Natalie's smile was uncontrollable. Kelly just stared at her.

“Don't look at me, look at them. I’ll start playing in 3, 2, 1…”

Natalie started to play the opening chords to a Gwen Stefani song and I looked around as Kelly sung the lyrics at first very beautifully. She was certainly talented. The other girl had her hands over her mouth like she was watching a scary movie and the boy tapped his foot again and again against the floor. He was trying to focus on one of the posters as Kelly sang.

I focused though, until suddenly the keyboard stopped with a clatter. Natalie’s face was twisted into a mask of fury. Everyone looked to her suddenly. The girl squeezed my hand and the boy chewed his fingers hard. Kelly stopped singing and Natalie squared up to her, her firsts clenched.

“Do you think this is a JOKE, Kelly?” she practically screamed

“I don't know what I did wrong, Natalie, honestly, I thought...”

Natalie scoffed and grabbed hold of Kelly’s topknot. “Let’s see if we can get you to see what’s going wrong here, huh?” and she smashed Kelly’s face hard into the keyboard. She fell down and looked to us with blood running down her face.

I screamed. I actually screamed and everyone turned to look at me. Natalie stared at me for a moment and she was practically foaming at the mouth. She took a deep breath “I am just saying, Kelly, I’m just saying! Do you expect your career to get anywhere? When your singing sounds so garbled! I swear to god…”

“I’m sorry, I just can't sing as fast as she does. Can't you give me a different song? Please… i’ll be good”

“Will you really? Will you be good enough to leave?”

“I swear!”

“I’m taking this as an insult. I have a talent, Kelly, for picking songs that suit my students. And if you think this song doesn't suit you, I think you are insulting my talent” and then Natalie laughed, running her hands through her dreadlocks “Why am I even getting upset? I just don't like quitters. So… I would prefer you to learn the song I fucking chose for you. Got it?”

Kelly nodded and flitted away to her seat. No one dared interact with her. Natalie just sighed and left the room, swishing away in her louboutin heels, closing the door behind her.

“Are you okay?” I asked Kelly but she just sobbed into her hands

“Natalie does it all the time” the other girl told me hushedly “she doesn't like Kelly.”

“Well, be honest, Kelly, you had it coming. You weren't even trying. If you aren't good, you’re never going to leave” the boy said

“What do you mean?” I asked.

The boy sniffed, he was a typical preppy boy with a bieber fringe. I noticed both his hands were wrapped in bandages that were stained with old blood “Once you’re good enough and you succeed in all lessons, you get to leave. And you become famous. Natalie says every star went through this.”

“I don't even want to be famous” I said quietly.

Kelly herself chuckled at that, and turned around at me, her face still covered in blood and her dark brown eyes glittering. “You’re kidding, everyone wants to be famous. I know it's going to be worth it, no matter what Natalie does to us”

“Did you choose to be here?”
There was a sudden silence. The other girl spoke after a while “I’m Alexis, by the way, that's Kelly, and that's Brandon. He’s going to leave before any of us.”

“Damn right” he said.

“We’ll help you” Alexis said and I looked at her properly. She had bruises on her legs that snaked up from her ugg boots. “We’ll make sure your singing is super good!”

I smiled but my insides felt like they were convulsing and eventually Kenny appeared and told us we should go back to our rooms to practice. He pointed out to me the number of my room. I couldn't get there quick enough.

And that was because I remembered there was a phone in my room. It was hot pink and attached to the wall. I could call the police, or I could call my mother. This place wasn't safe and I knew it. So I shut my door tight and knelt down. I pressed in the numbers for 999 and breathed softly as I waited for them to pick up. I wasn't sure what to tell them, but I was sure they would come and take me back home.

Instead I heard “Thanks for calling the barbie hotline! Make sure you have fun in the dreamhouse!” I gasped in alarm and pulled the phone from my ear. I held it in my hand, and I saw Barbie’s cheap face imprinted on the receiver, and the mattel logo. It was nothing but a toy phone.

I stood up and realised something even worse. A post it note had fallen onto the floor, that read in swirly pink gel pen “Don't bother calling them. The only way out of here is through true talent"

Submitted February 20, 2019 at 05:24PM by Rynthewriter https://ift.tt/2E2sLq2