Hushed Invaders : A Dystopian Romance Novel Read online

  Hushed Invaders

  She will fight for the truth even when it hurts

  D. L. Akosua

  "Two souls, alas, are housed within my breast, and each will wrestle for the mastery there." – Goethe

  Copyright © 2020 D. L. Akosua

  All rights reserved

  The moral right of D. L. Akosua to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ASIN: B08FZRLRK9

  ISBN: 9798675973637

  Cover design by: Dapollen

  www.dlakosua.com

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  Mayhem at School

  It was break time at Harlington Boarding School, but for most of the pupils, it was just a break from the relentless lessons. To avoid being humiliated on the playing field, the savviest kids retreated inside the school library, where the strictest librarian in the school’s 200-year-old history, Ms. Noel Harrison, kept absolute law and order.

  The other kids had no choice but to hide around the shadows of the playing field, hoping to avoid the Grill Boys. Emily Manther was one of the unfortunate kids who could not find a spot inside the library. It was her favorite place—the only place where the Grill Boys would leave her alone during break time. She was their favorite target and they took special delight in reminding her many times over.

  The scorching sunlight glistened like diamonds in the air while a dusty breeze tickled through her hair, mixed with the perfume of flowers from the school's vast grounds. It was nearing the peak of summer in late July and they would break for the summer holidays within a week. The kids on the playing field at Harlington took zero notice of the perfumed breeze. These were strange times indeed. Just last week, on Emily's birthday, two students went missing off campus. Last month, another student was stabbed to death but the perpetrator was never caught. The sense of despair and misery hung thick like gloomy clouds, invisible yet tangible. Emily worried about her future at the end of this academic year—her final year. Where would she go? Even if she found a job, which seemed unlikely, where would she stay? She had no parents, friends, or family outside of Harlington. She was alone.

  She cheered herself up with the thought that she'll soon be free from the tyranny of Mr. Bradley Fence, the head-teacher, and his gang of prefects, the Grill Boys. John Mills led the Grill Boys, which included Roy Jones, Peter Kisher, Alistair Lloyds, and George Waters. The very thought of the Grill Boys sent shivers up Emily’s spine. Even Miss Rose Summers, the Art teacher, was nervous of the Grill Boys. They often took pleasure in disrupting her lessons, although Art was usually the most boring for Emily.

  Emily tried to melt into the wall underneath the window of the history classroom on the playing field. She hoped to be in sight of a teacher on break duty when the Grill Boys found her, as she knew they would. She observed the other pupils who sat quietly on the benches, also trying to avoid attention. Even the more popular kids huddled together for added protection, fiercely whispering among themselves.

  Emily spotted John Mills and the Grill Boys approaching the playing field from the dormitories. With nowhere to run or hide, she was like a lamb waiting for the slaughter. Her heart skipped a beat against her will as the contents of her stomach sank.

  "Hey, ugly," John shouted as he walked towards Emily.

  "Don’t you dare call me ugly. What do you want?" Emily said.

  "You're feeling bold today... BOO!" John stepped up to head-butt her, but she moved away from the impact just in time.

  "I don't care what you do anymore, I've had it all before."

  The Grill Boys burst into laughter, the sound cutting through her body like a knife. Roy Jones, John's best friend, was doubled over in ecstasy, laughing the hardest. Emily couldn't see what was so funny.

  John took a mock bow. "Well, thanks for the permission. You're saying I can do whatever I like but don't go crying to mommy and daddy when you get hurt." Every eye was attentive to the John Mills’ show playing out on the playing field. He picked a black kinky curl from Emily's face and twisted it around his fingers. He admired the unique sunlight colors playing through the tight curls.

  A million butterflies danced in her stomach at John's touch. His blond pink dyed hair rested with finesse on his head like a crown, complemented by deep blue eyes. Emily felt baffled by her own attraction to him. Was it purely a biological reaction to a male because she'd never had a boyfriend? She knew that his behavior was repulsive.

  John grabbed hold of Emily's thick hair, forcing a cry of pain from her lips. "You don't have a mom or dad, do you? Your parents are dead," he said.

  Emily felt like tiny pinprick needles were being pulled from her scalp as he increased the pressure on her hair.

  He chanted the chorus of his favorite tune and the Grill Boys soon joined in. Roy Jones sang the loudest in the background.

  'Emily is ugly, Emily is ugly, Emily is ugly, ugly, ugly, ugly.'

  'Emily is ugly, Emily is ugly, Emily is ugly, ugly, ugly, ugly.'

  'Emily is ugly, Emily is ugly, Emily is ugly, ugly, ugly, ugly.'

  The song registered in her brain as if coming from far. Blinded by pain, she squeezed John's hands to throw him off. He was too strong for her and the harder she struggled, the harder he pulled.

  Grabbing a bigger chunk of hair, he dragged Emily away from the window towards the center of the playing field. She fought him every step of the way, kicking and scratching all parts of his body. She received a punch from behind and turned around to find Roy, Peter, Alistair, and George grinning in delight. Emily couldn't work out which one had delivered the blow.

  "Hand it over!" John stretched out his hand and Roy passed something to him that Emily couldn't make out.

  Suddenly, he shoved Emily away from him. Hard. She lost her balance and hit her head on the ground. An explosive BOOM sound echoed across the playing field before she could gather her senses, then a foul smell like rotten eggs whiffed through her nose.

  John threw a second object followed by the same BOOM sound. This one hit her leg and she felt an overwhelming need to vomit—the smell overpowering all her senses.

  "Yikes, a stink bomb," she whispered.

  He let another bomb loose, which hit her square in the forehead. The sewage-like smell exploded across her face. The Grill Boys were now in an uproar, most of them doubled over with glee, except for John, who stood over her like an executioner.

  He let off another stink bomb, and it missed Emily by an inch as she rolled away. The other kids on the playing field looked away as she glanced around in humiliation. Most were laughing, reluctant to meet her eye. She crawled on her knees, stood up, and sprinted away with the smell of the stink bomb chasing after her. She should be used to this by now, she thought as she entered the girl's bathroom. She couldn't hold it in and she burst into tears as she locked herself into an empty cubicle to lick her wounds.

  Something wet trickled from her hair to her face and she touched the spot, only to find her fingers red and sticky. The sight of blood, where John had pulled the hardest, only made
her cry harder.

  Her other encounters with the Grill Boys flashed through her mind. There was one awful time when they had cornered her at the canteen. John took her food and threw it in the bin, leaving her to go hungry for most of the day. Another time, John sat next to her in Miss Summer's Art class and planted his foot on her toes for the entire lesson, crushing them to numbness. She wasn't able to walk properly for the rest of that week. Her eyes gathered fresh tears as she remembered the pain. The worst memory was her first day at Harlington when they went through her clothes and cut her school uniform into pieces. Although she couldn't prove it, she suspected John and the Grill Boys as the culprits. She became the official number one loser the following morning when she had no choice but to wear her ragged clothes to lessons. Being an orphan meant she had no parents to buy new uniforms for her. The head-teacher and her financial patron, Mr. Bradley Fence, had been most unsympathetic and reminded her of school rule number three—no pupil shall attend lessons without a uniform. She sat in detention for an entire month while she waited for 'approval' to release funding from the school's governors to buy her a second-hand uniform.

  She imagined the sort of things she could do to get back at the Grill Boys. She thought of sneaking into the boys’ changing room during the next sports lesson to spray their clothes with itching powder. Her tears dried up as she imagined John dancing around, scratching his skin until it became bloody. However, she immediately dismissed the idea as she knew the consequences of being caught. Expulsion.

  The school bell rang, signaling the end of break. The stench of the stink bomb on her clothes was overpowering. Her next lesson was history, and she brightened up as she thought of Mr. James Hartley, her favorite teacher in the school. She enjoyed his lessons because John could not touch her during a history lesson. Gathering all her courage, she left the toilet cubicle with her head held high.

  A Twisted History

  Emily skipped into history and found she was the last student to arrive. Mr. Hartley was nowhere in sight, and she took her usual seat at the front. As soon as she sat down, everyone in the class blocked their noses discretely. John and Roy sat at the back of the class, whispering loudly, "She stinks."

  Hissing sounds of "she stinks" rolled across the room. Most of them had witnessed her humiliation on the playing field and knew it was the stink bomb. Marie Golding, who occupied the desk on the left side of Emily, shifted her desk as far away as possible. Millicent Kiki, her roommate, also had her nose tightly blocked with her school jumper.

  Mr. James Hartley strolled into the classroom like a cat, his steps as graceful as a proud lion walking through a jungle. The hissing and shuffling stopped and a deadly silence descended on the class upon his arrival. He was tall and handsome for a man in his fifties, with sharp eyes that didn't miss a thing. Emily thought he must have been striking in his youth. He stopped halfway to his desk and sniffed the air deeply into his lungs.

  "What is that smell?" He turned to face the class.

  No one dared to respond. He surveyed the class until his eyes landed on Emily's desk, which was isolated at the front.

  "Emily Manther?"

  Emily cleared her throat, "Sir, they attacked me on the playing field..."

  "Attacked on the playing field? Dear, dear, dear, my dear Emily Manther, you're forever getting yourself into trouble one way or another. In fact, I don't want to hear it. I can guess what happened." Mr. Hartley cast a suspicious look in John's direction.

  "Robert Stone, open the window," he commanded.

  Robert Stone was a tiny boy who sat by the window. He stood up and knocked over his books and pencil case in his hurry to open the window.

  "Clumsy as always, never mind him," said Mr. Hartley. "School will close next week for the summer holidays. Everyone, open your copy of 'A History of the 21st Century by Robert Carter' to chapter ten. We're revising our study of the first days of the 21st century."

  Emily hid a secret smile as the class followed his instructions. Mr. Hartley was unsympathetic and colder than ice but he kept the class in order, which meant that John and the Grill Boys couldn’t touch her during his lessons.

  "Now, where were we?" Mr. Hartley mumbled to himself as he paced up and down. "Alright, Roy Jones, read the first paragraph of chapter ten."

  Emily couldn't resist the temptation to look back. There was a quick flash of fear in Roy's eyes as he stood up to read. He held the book right up to his nose, which trembled in his hands. Emily suspected that Roy wasn't the sharpest tool in the box, but this was the first time he'd been asked to read out loud. The silence in the room intensified as the class held their breath, eager to listen.

  "The...fon...ders…of our mo...dern our civili...civi...li...za...tion gave us wealth, proo...perity and tech...no…logy. They are the heroes of our soci...so...ety and we surre...surren...der to their vis...ion." Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he struggled to pronounce the words.

  Emily was sure that he would wet himself soon but was disappointed when Mr. Hartley shouted, "ENOUGH of your diabolical reading! Sit down, foolish boy."

  Roy sat down and looked like he was about to cry. Emily wondered how he'd spent five years at the most prestigious school in the country without learning to read. She chuckled inside with glee until a powerful sense of hatred towards Roy and the Grill Boys overtook her mind.

  "Class, open your books and listen carefully," said Mr. Hartley.

  “The founders of our modern civilization gave us wealth, prosperity, and technology. They are the heroes of our society, and we surrender to their vision.

  The Great War, which was led by the three founders, enabled the Uppers to wrestle control from the Enders and secure world peace. This was the beginning of the 'advancement days'.

  Using great foresight, our founders made fundamental societal adjustments to protect our future by separating the Uppers from the Enders.

  Dr. Theodore Davidson discovered and published the corruption of the Enders’ gene through ingenious scientific breakthroughs.

  George Mansfield — the greatest political leader of all time, implemented the separation and modeled our current way of life.

  General Edward Manson — the most courageous soldier, battled the resistance during the Great War to achieve lasting peace.

  Always remember that the Enders are dangerous like wild animals and must be kept in their place. Marriage between Uppers and Enders are forbidden. This crime is punishable by death.”

  The class chanted the pledge as Mr. Hartley made them repeat the last line several times.

  Not for the first time, Emily wondered whether she was an Upper or an Ender. She reasoned that she must be an Upper, otherwise she would not be allowed to attend Harlington, the most exclusive school for Uppers. Not that it mattered much to her because, either way, she felt like an outsider as a ward of the school. This was common knowledge among the student population and another reason why she was the most hated student.

  The rules at Harlington were very simple: the wealthier your parents, the higher your social standing. As an orphan, they never allowed her out even during the holidays when all the kids went home to their parents. Mr. Fence had told her point-blank that the orphanage couldn't take her back. Forbidden to ask questions, most of what she knew of the outside world was due to her scattered memories as a child at the orphanage and whispered gossip from others.

  To no one's surprise, Amy Wright's hands were up in the air.

  "Amy Wright, ask away, dear girl, ask away," said Mr. Hartley.

  "Sir, if Uppers are forbidden to mix with Enders, I was wondering why we have an Ender in the school. In fact, there is one in this very class," Amy said with a self-righteous confidence.

  All eyes pointed at Emily—a strong wave of hatred rose towards her from all directions. She stared straight ahead and held her breath as she waited for Mr. Hartley's response.

  "I am aware that rumors have been circulating around the school about Emily Manther. Teachers are f
orbidden to comment on the status of individual students."

  Emily released her breath. Mr. Hartley's response was only likely to fuel further speculation as he hadn't dispelled the rumor that she was an Ender.

  "Any other questions, class? No? Good. Copy the achievements of the three founders from chapter ten in your books. There shall be no talking."

  "But, sir..." Amy had her hands up again.

  "You must raise your hand and not speak until I call your name, Amy Wright."

  "Sir, if you can't tell us where she's from, can you at least say if we should mix with her? Will I get in trouble for talking to her?"

  Emily felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand on end. She had never mixed with Amy or any other student at Harlington.

  "Amy Wright, use your common sense and behave towards Emily Manther in the same manner that you've always behaved towards her. There shall be no more talking," he said.