BORDERLINE SCHEME

Tristan sat pale at the edge of his bed staring at the walls of his dusty empty room

which housed a bed, an ancient trunk box at the far end of the room with a wooden

table and chair. There wasn’t much he had to his name. He sighed wearily and

adjusted himself so his back could rest on the bed. Tristan used this routine. When

everyone was out frolicking he was left behind, no one cared if he existed or not. He

left his ‘den’ only when he had to be in school which he dreaded or at the eating

table where he had an entire table to himself because no one would sit close to him.

Tristan always wondered what he did to ever be this detested but as years went by

he adjusted to this leaving pattern. He enjoyed it now.

A loud bang came from his door which shook him out of his daze. ‘ Mr. Olesk the

Clean up starts in a minute’, a high-pitched voice said. Tristan remained silent as the

person walked away. It was their weekly Clean up today. Slowly he slipped into his

slacks with a rumpled shirt he picked out of a pile and made for the door. As his palm

rested on the metal door the hair on his body stood he quickly retrieved his hand

taken aback. He felt something shoot through him in that second. He wondered if it

was one of those kids trying to pull a fast trick on him. Waving the thought off he

quickly yanked the door open. As he stepped out he was prepared for the sidelong

looks, whispers, and hushed tones. He could hear someone laughing from the very

far end of the hallway, and girls giggling past, and what annoyed him the most was

that he could hear what people whispered to themselves. Last week when he walked

past the girl's dormitory to the frozen lake he heard a conversation between two girls

where one's boyfriend got her flowers and treated her so well. He still remembered

the words she said, ‘Isn’t Anton the best, he got me this beautiful bouquet and kissed

me right after’. He shuddered each time he passed the girl's dormitory as to what he

would hear again.

Approaching the Courtyard he sat on the pavement waiting to be poked or ridiculed.

He stared at the cloudy sky, though it was just midday the clouds made the

atmosphere feel like it was already evening. The Housekeeper paired them into

groups and sent them to various areas to tidy. Tristan was paired with a group of

boys that did not bother he was in their group. They headed to their designated

portion and started their work. Tristan picked around for a while never uttering a

word as the other boys chatted away. Something about what they talked about

caught his attention. ‘Awwoooo’, one of the boys made the sound. A dark-skinned

boy replied, ‘Don’t be silly Egon they don’t exist!’ The howling boy continued falling to

the ground laughing, ‘Don’t make silly jokes about that’, a sunken-faced boy replied

calmly. A chestnut-haired boy clawed his hands mimicking a monster and lounged

at Egon and the two burst into laughter. The sunken-faced boy looked flushed now.

‘Get away from me awwoooo’, Egon said as though he was mimicking someone.

‘Next time you have crazy nightmares and interrupt our sleep we will come to cuddle

you and coo you back to sleep’, the chestnut-haired boy dryly told the sunken-faced

boy. Tristan was bemused by this because he had been experiencing similar

nightmares where he was being chased but he was very sure he wasn’t the one

being chased.

Back in his room, he recounted what he had just heard those boys talk about. ‘It

made no sense’ he thought, why would he share a similar dream with him? Fighting

to wave the thought away he picked up a newsletter magazine he usually collects

from the housekeeper's front desk each morning and glanced through it resting his

attention on a particular page. That was his daily routine. He was never seen outside

his room unless it was demanded of him.

Mrs. Annika Angeldal the head of The Good Samaritan Orphanage sat airily at her

brightly polished mahogany desk with a dazzling marble top. The dazzling top was

difficult to see because she had her desk piled with heaps of documents and

pamphlets. A crossbow figurine stood amid the pile. Her office was spacious and

tastefully designed, an oak bookshelf lined the entire right-hand side of the wall with

leathery seats and a fur rug at the center of the room. Adjacent to her desk at the far

end of the wall stood a very antique grandfather clock. The walls were draped with

crimson green curtains that reflected the rays of light. The grand fireplace was walled

with glass tiles which did not make a difference because her office was ever cold as

the woman it served.

Rising from her leathery upholstery chair she had dark hair with silver-lining stripe,

tall and slender with her crisp suit standing firm. Not a single crease was spotted. She

was one to never accept even the slightest errors. She walked out of the office with

her walking stick. She had a limp.

At the orphanage, there was an assembly due to the yearly visits they made to the

town. All the children waited patiently for her to address them before they left.

Tristan was looking forward to this trip he wanted to wander about in the woods,

climb the smaller trees and feel alive. This was the only thing he was ever excited

about because it got him away from everything he hated here. Standing at the far

end, he wore a black fleece jacket with a ragged-looking woolen scarf. Mrs. Annika

appeared before the children and addressed them on the usual rules and

regulations. A podium was mounted. She placed a book that contained the names of

those who were allowed to visit the town. She spoke with an authoritative tone, ‘A list

has been made to announce those who have been selected for this year's annual trip

into the town’ clearing her throat she continued, ‘Anyone who did not hear his or her

name should quietly retreat to there dormitory’s her gazed rested on Tristan. He

quickly looked away. He had always been hated by everyone but he never

understood the hatred Mrs. Annika had for him. He gulped down the air. She began

calling the names,

‘Predrik Sepp’

‘Romet Kalda’

‘Sofia Kivi’

‘Egon Laar’

They all shouted and patted anyone whose name was called. The list went on and on.

They all shouted and patted anyone whose name was called. The list went on and on.

The gathered crowd where gradually thinning until the list came to an end. Tristan

did not hear his name and no one noticed. He was left behind with a few autistic

children who couldn’t be left on their own. He was disappointed, he made his way to

ask why he was not on the list. ‘Good day ma’am my name wasn’t on the list’ Tristan

enquired politely.

‘And you are?’, came Mrs. Annika’s cold reply not looking at him

Tristan was dazed, he wondered whether she was senile not to remember him. He

grew annoyed.

‘My name is Tristan Olesk ma’am’, Tristan replied trying as much as possible to hide

the edge in his voice.

‘As stated earlier if your name wasn’t mentioned you are NOT allowed to embark on

the trip’, she barked.

‘But Ma’am - Tristan began, ‘No But’s Mr. Olesk it’s a final decision’ she cut in. She

looked at him with pure disgust and walked off. Tristan stood there useless. He had

looked forward to this trip all year and he wasn’t going to let this deter him. He

quickly ran back to his room and rummaged through his drawer. He brought out a

pen and a piece of paper to plan his escape route.

After about 5 minutes he had come up with a handmade map he would use.

Strapping on his carrier he left his room and began his escapade. He dashed through

the hallway stealthily and docked whenever he heard footsteps. He carefully opened

the Boiler room door and descended through a tunnel that led right out of the

Orphanage to the town.

Tristan was deep in the woods now searching through it as though he was looking

for something. He was happy to be away from all the glaring looks, snarling voices,

and whispers. As he went through the woods he had a feeling of déjà vu. He climbed

the trees with ease and looked at the vast scenery of the town, it was beautiful. As he

delved deeper into the woods he felt something watching him. He increased his

pace. Almost lost he decided to track his way back. He still had the hunch of

someone watching him. He stopped abruptly and a branch snapped, he froze. ‘Who

is there?’, he said firmly. A girl appeared. She looked rare, her hair an auburn blend

fell to her shoulder. Her pupils pure hazel and her skin were rather too hairy.

Hello, she said calmly ‘I’m sorry if I startled you, I was out picking pine cones

She began to walk away. He was blown away by her beauty. I’m sorry what is your

name?’, He asked after he had regained himself

‘Margo’, she said softly and strode away.

It had gotten dark so he walked back to the tunnel. As he tiptoed back to his room

he saw a figure standing guard at his door, it was the Housekeeper his heart skipped

a beat. He walked casually to the door but the Housekeeper told him that Mrs.

Annika was looking for him. His heart sank.

Tristan stood in front of her desk and cleared his throat to announce his presence

because she had not looked up from her desk when he had entered.

‘There will be severe punishment for breaking our rules’, Mrs. Annika told him still

looking down at whatever it was she was reading.

Then she looked up with a flash of glee in her eyes ‘You are forbidden from going into

the town, if you are caught again you would be kicked out of here to a Juvenile and

delinquent home’ she said firmly and added ‘seeing as we do not offer such services

here

‘Anyways Mr. Phil is waiting outside to walk you through your assigned punishments’.

Tristan left the office without uttering a word.

Mr. Phil the Housekeeper who stood at his door when he came in gave him a list of

where he had to work. The first place on the list was the Church Store.

When Tristan got there he wanted to cry, the place was covered with dust. No one

ever came here so why did he have to clean it? He got to work.

Tristan crawled back to his bed after he had exhausted all the assigned places he had

to clean. Entering his room he collapsed on his bed tired.

The next morning Tristan woke up drenched in his sweat, his arms and legs aching

with severe pain, he had a lot of questions as to why every night for the past week, he

had had the same nightmare. He'd be running through the woods, running away

from someone he never saw. His body wasn't his in his dreams. His arms and legs

were covered with hair, his nails became claws and out of the corners of his eyes, he

could see a snout where his nose should be. He'd run through the woods till he

snagged his arm on a jagged branch. No matter what he did, he couldn't avoid that

branch.

Blood would pour out of the wound and his first instinct would be to hide.

Continuing to run would be pointless as his pursuer would easily track him. He'd find

a cave with a slab of rock at the opening and would wander into it. For whatever

reason, his pursuer never followed him into the cave. He'd venture in, past cobwebs,

bones, and rats till he got to a waterfall. And then he'd be pushed.

With flailing arms, he'd scream at the top of his lungs till he hit the cool surface of the

water. He'd try to swim back up but something would pull him down. For about

fifteen seconds, he'd be unable to breathe, and then suddenly, air would rush into his

lungs, filling them up. He'd notice once more that he was outside in the woods and

he'd pick up the running footsteps of his pursuer.

Darting through the trees, leaving a trail of blood and the occasional clump of hair in

his wake, he'd run towards the sound of the river. Arrows would fly and some would

graze his skin. Their pointed tips seemed to have a strange effect on him as he lost all

his strength after the third arrow grazed him.

He'd slow down, his eyes blood red and then he'd turn around. The dream usually

ended of its own accord here but tonight, for some reason, it continued. He could see

his pursuer through the haze of red. He was wearing a black cloak and his face was

hidden. He had an arrow nocked in his crossbow, its steel tip gleaming in the

moonlight. His pursuer stood about 20 feet away and in just three strides Tristan was

upon him.

His pursuer was too shocked to react. Snarling and with a guttural growl he couldn't

believe originated from his throat, he pulled the hood off his pursuer's face. He was

young. About 13. Who gives a thirteen-year-old a crossbow, Tristan thought and then

a wild feral seized him and before he knew what he was doing, he was looking down

at the mangled corpse of the thirteen-year-old boy.

Tristan was lost in his thoughts about the dream sitting lifeless in his room, only for

his attention to be drawn by the snapping fingers of Mrs. Angeldal

.

“Chasing a fantasy?” she said meeting his forehead with a firm knock.

In a Loud voice and Scandinavian accent, she asked him to get ready and meet up

at the dining hall before the squire arrived. Tristan’s anxiety built up as he doesn't

have a good history with The owner of the orphanage Mr. Kalev Kadri.

Children quickly getting ready, one could hear their chatter from a mile

away. There was tension in the air, one that Tristan could see.

”. Olesk aren't you getting ready?” Mr. Phil the housekeeper asked, with a smiling

face as Tristan nodded and smiled back at him.

He went to the general lavatory only for the other boys to lock him in. He cried out for

someone but nobody could hear him. The kids were all seated in the dining hall

waiting for the squire to arrive. The housekeepers dished out the bowls of piping hot

food and trays of unleavened bread. The squire arrived 10 minutes later after the

meals were dished out. The scent of sandalwood and mint filled the room. The

children all stood up hastily on his arrival and gave him a lively welcome in unison

which attracted applause from Mrs. Annika.

” Good morning kids,” he said as he scanned across the dining hall to discover an

unoccupied seat amid the cross-section of chattering children.

“Come join us for Breakfast, “ said Mrs. Annika.

He quietly sat down and rashly asked about the empty stool giving Mrs. Annika a

cold stare.

Meanwhile, Tristan tried prying the door open without any prevail, He thought of

bumping into the door and got it open on his first attempt. An astonished Tristan

could only pause to ponder on what had just transpired.

A thudding sound resulted in a pause in the dining hall.

“WHAT WAS THAT!? “ Mrs. Annika said in a loud and commanding tone.

“Phillip do well to check what just happened. “Sure Ma’m “He answered and hastily

ran towards the noise only to see a door ripped from its hinges and a rather

astonished teenage figure in front.

“Mr.Phil, “ he said with a loud and exciting tone, “Did you see what I just did “.

Mr.Phillip was irate and instructed Tristan to dress up and make his way to the dining

hall while he tried to fix up the mess. Tristan did as he was instructed, on his arrival

the dining became so quiet you could hear a pin drop, Mrs. Angeldal scoffed and

tried to explain to the squire that making trouble was a routine for Mr. Olesk. Mr.

Kadri gave him a look of aversion as Tristan sheepishly made his way to the empty

seat close to Egon.

“What did you do now?” Egon whispered.

“Nothing” he whispered back as he ate up a portion of the unleavened breadsticks.

Breakfast was over and most of the kids went to play because it was a

weekend while the others went to their various denominations. Meanwhile, Mr. Kadri

and Mrs. Angeldal were having a prolonged discussion in the hallway corridor as they

watched the kids play from above. Tristan wanted to speak with Xander who had

been having the same nightmares and revelations as he approached Xander one of

the older boys in the clique brushed him off his feet and they all started laughing as

The squire and Mrs. Angeldal paused and watched on with full attention. “Find

somewhere else to play you freak of nature,” the boy said as Egon, and the other boys

laughed uncontrollably. Tristan got on his feet as the boy tried to grip him on the

collar but couldn’t get a hold of him. Tristan could not hold back as a fight between

the two boys ensued. Tristan attacked the boy viciously trying to claw his face open,

Mrs. Angeldal who immediately wanted to put an end to the fight was stopped in her

tracks by Mr. Kadri.

“Let boys be boys,” he said in a sadistic tone,

Mrs. Angeldal was dumbfounded at his comment as they both watched on.

Tristan was too swift with his strikes too much that the boy could handle. He stabbed

the boy with a forehand to the chest and the boy found himself on the ground

absorbing several blows to the face, soon the attention of all the kids was drawn as

they all looked concerned for the boy. The boy staggered up on his feet and was met

with a shooting nod from Tristan at point blank using his forehead. The boy paused

for a second and collapsed to the ground bleeding profusely from his face. Mrs.

Annika looked on for Mr. Kadri to give her instructions to control the situation but he

looked rather unfazed after seeing what had just happened. The housekeepers

rushed to the aid of the two boys and handled the situation.

“Could it be Annika?” he said in a calm voice.

“The stance of that boy it seemed unnatural,” he said in astonishment, He recounted

his days of slaying werewolves and gave Annika a full account of his experiences.

“It can’t be, “ Annika said in a disturbed tone,” I thought they and their descendants

were slain at the purge?!”

she said with a look of concern on her face. Mr. Kadri gave her instructions towards

Mr. Olesk after a lengthy discussion.

Later that evening, The Squire bid the children goodbye. Mrs. Annika

impatiently ran to the infirmary to see what had become of the two boys. The two

boys were in stable condition now. They both got an ear full from Mrs. Angeldal.

“You both are a disgrace to everything this orphanage stands for, Leave here this

instant !” she said in a harsh tone asking Tristan to stay behind.

This is your last warning she said letting him know that once turned Seventeen he

would be ousted from the orphanage to fend for himself. Tristan tried apologizing

but She just walked out on him in rage. Tristan made his way to his room but was

stopped by Mr. Phil.

“How are you doing now kiddo? heck of a day you’ve had today” he said while

carrying some boxes away.

Tristan’s attention was drawn by one of the antique boxes Mr.Phil was carrying which

was embedded in with precious stones and made out of pure bronze.” What’s this

Mr. Phil? “ he asked innocently.

“These? they belong to Mrs.Angeldal, Now go to sleep Mr. Olesk I’ll see you tomorrow

“ he replied.

Tristan entered his room and hurriedly ran to his bed. He was restless after

seeing the box he couldn’t get himself to sleep. He began fantasizing about the girl he met in the woods when he was startled by Xander who barged into his room,

shivering and covered in sweat.

” I’m sick of you guys bullying me, let me sleep” he nagged.

“I’m not playing any games this time Tristan werewolves exist and we are evidence”.

Xander went on to explain to him that the stunts he pulled while fighting were

freakish and that he had tried to suppress his symptoms. He carefully explained to

Tristan how he should keep a low profile and stay out of trouble.

Tristan raised an eyebrow and said heedlessly

“If this is one of your pranks then it’s not working “ as he closed out Xander from his

room.

Xander gives Tristan something to think about. It seemed like a long night for Tristan

as he reflected on what Xander had said.

The Next Morning, Mrs. Annika calls all the children to the hallway.

“Is anyone aware of Mr. Xander's whereabouts?” she asked with a calm and collected

approach.

She threatened to punish anyone who was involved in his disappearance.

The hall was filled with panic and murmurs,

“SILENCE!” she said in a subtle but loud tone as the children shuddered in fear.

She dismissed the kids as she limped towards the corridor hallway, staring into the

woods surrounding the Orphanage. Tristan was in shock at the news and confronted

Egon, who was soaked with tears.

“where's Xander?” he said, “why do you care?” Egon replied shakily.

Tristan quietly made his way to Xander’s room, he was greeted with a distinctive

metallic smell of blood and a Window yanked from its inches. He is dumbfounded at

the sight and is searching the room for answers when the head of the orphanage

walks in on him.

“Care to explain what you are doing Mr olesk?”

She said as she asked him to meet her in her office.

He made his way to the office, Mrs. Annika who arrives five minutes later. She asks

him to stay away from pressing matters and that she believes Xander was eaten by a

bear, informing him about recent attacks by bears in the district. Tristan sobs in

disbelief as Mrs. Annika tells him that Xander has gone back to his creator. She

explained to him, that the search party are unable to find him and he's been

confirmed dead.

Mrs. Angeldal asks the housekeepers to prepare the children for Xander’s memorial.

The weather was freezing, the rain pouring, the hallways draped in black satin, and

the smell of melting resin filled the chamber. Mrs. Angeldal dressed in a raven chic

dress makes her way to the chamber as her eyes encounter the sight of frightened

and sobbing children. Her mind racing as she gave him a farewell speech.

“In the early hours of today, I lost one of my own Mr. Xander came to us a day after his

birth, I still remember touching his little hand, he grew up to be a poise young man

with impeccable values, today he leaves us physically but his presence will always

remain in The Good Samaritan Home”.

She sobs as she recounts the last time she lost a child at the orphanage which

happened during the purge.