There was a stairway to my left, a huge oak door to my right and the hallway kept on going with doors sprouting out on both sides. It stopped after six doors on either side. Were they classrooms?

“Now,” the woman smiled again as she pushed the big oak door open, “What’s your name?”

“A-” I bit my tongue, I was about to say Antonelle, “Elle,”

“That’s a pretty name,” she added before I walked into the room she’s walked into. There was a huge oak desk in the middle, bookshelves lined the walls.

I sat on one of the chairs before the desk and she sat on a big black one behind it. There were painted pictures piled high on one side and paperwork on the other.

Talk about diversity.

“So, Elle,” she started, “Welcome to Shefton, now- you don’t have to tell me anything about your history that you don’t want to but why did you choose to study at Shefton?”

I didn’t want to tell her anything about my history but her eyes dug into my mind; urging me to open my mouth and blab.

“My dad was always too busy with work and left me to go away. Mum was with her... friends all the time so I never really saw her. I didn’t want to run away and live in the jungle or anything,” I stopped for breath, “So I Google searched Freeloading schools and found Shefton, at least I wouldn’t be by myself all the time and I’d be looked after,”

I knew I’d just told this woman, who I didn’t even know, everything I hadn’t told anyone.