North Pole Reform School

North Pole Reform School

by

Jaimie Admans

North Pole Reform School ©
Jaimie Admans.

First Kindle Edition.

All rights reserved.

The moral right of the
author has been asserted.

This novel is a work of
fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents portrayed in it are a product
of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead,
events or localities is entirely coincidental.

No part of this publication
may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or
by any means, without the prior permission of the author.

First published in 2013 by
Jaimie Admans.

Cover design by Christa at
Paper and Sage.

http://www.paperandsage.com

Also by Jaimie Admans:

Afterlife Academy

Not Pretty Enough

Creepy Christmas

Kismetology

Find out more about the author at
http://www.jaimieadmans.com

CHAPTER 1

It started with a purple moose.

At least I thought it was a moose. On reflection, it could
have been a reindeer, but it didn’t matter at the time because it was obviously
just a dream.

“Mistletoe,” the moose-reindeer said.

Yep. Still hate my parents for naming me that.

“Mistletoe,” it said again in a spooky echo of a voice, “I
am the Ghost of Christmases Ruined, and I have come to tell you something.”

“Go away.” I turned over in bed.

“Mistletoe Bell,” it said sharply. “Listen to me right now.”

I sat up, suddenly wide awake. God, what a freaky dream.

“Mistletoe Bell,” it said again. I jumped out of my skin. I
clutched the duvet to me as I turned around. Of all the things I expected to
see, the purple moose sitting in the middle of my carpet and looking annoyed
was about the last of them.

“Wh… what are you?” I asked quietly. I didn’t really believe
my eyes. I must still be dreaming.

“I’ve tried to tell you already. I am the Ghost of
Christmases Ruined.”

I tried to pinch myself awake without the moose noticing. It
didn’t work. I didn’t wake up and the moose noticed.

“It won’t work,” the moose said. “You’re already awake.”

“I’m looking at a talking purple moose. I don’t think so.”

“You are Mistletoe Bell?” the moose asked.

I dropped my head into my hands and edged closer to the
other side of the bed.

The moose continued to look at me expectantly.

“Unfortunately, yes. I couldn’t be anyone else with that
stupid name.”

“It’s a very nice Christmas name.”

“That’s exactly the bloody problem. You try having a stupid
Christmassy name in the middle of July or something.”

“Ah yes, but it’s December now.”

“Screw December,” I muttered.

“Aha,” the moose said. “This is exactly why I’m here.”

I gave it an angry look. “What the hell are you going on
about?”

“Well, if you’d be so kind as to allow me to get to my
point, I will enlighten you.”

I sighed in frustration.

“Mistletoe Bell,” the moose said, “you have been charged
with ruining Christmas. Multiple counts over the years, but a particularly
aggressive case this year when taking into account the fire—”

“The fire was an accident.”

It gave me a glare and I rolled my eyes. “Please go on,” I
said, complete with a sarcastic hand gesture.

“As I was saying…” The moose had an annoyed tone to its
voice now. “Ruining Christmas, multiple counts, we can’t let it continue. We’ve
been keeping an eye on you for a while now. We were actually hoping you might
grow out of it now you’re nearly seventeen, but the fire this year is the final
straw. Mistletoe—”

“Please stop calling me that. It’s Mis, Misty, or nothing.”

The moose rolled its eyes. “I am required to call you by
your proper name at all times. Now, can we get on with it?”

“Get on with what?”

“Mistletoe Bell, tomorrow you will be taken to the North
Pole where you will stay until you can learn how to behave acceptably and stop
ruining Christmas for others. You will be part of a group who will learn the
value of Christmas to all involved.”

“That’s ridiculous. Who’s going to teach me? The polar
bears?”

“The elves will teach you.”

“Of course they will.” I smacked my forehead. “Of course
there are elves. I don’t know why I expected anything else from a purple
moose.”

The moose made a frustrated noise. “Mistletoe, do you
understand?”

“I will be taken to the North Pole and taught by elves? Yes,
I understand perfectly.”

“I must be on my way. Sweet dreams, Mistletoe.” The moose
got up and jumped out of the window.

I rolled over and went back to sleep. I must’ve eaten cheese
before bed last night or something.

There were more weird dreams. I dreamt of flying above the
rooftops and over the oceans, and it was really, really cold. I’m pretty sure I
could hear strains of “Walking in the Air” in the distance.

CHAPTER 2

I have a thumping headache. The light is too bright
and when I shift to throw my arm over my eyes, I know I’m not in my own bed.
The bed is too hard, the mattress is too thin, and the whole thing creaks when
I move. I blearily open my eyes and shut them again quickly when bright white
light shines in. I give myself a couple of minutes to get my bearings and then
try opening my eyes again. I sit up slowly and look around.

I’m in a tiny room. The walls and floor are white. There’s
only about three foot of space between the bed and the wall. There’s one small
window. It’s like a hospital room.

God, maybe it is a hospital room. What happened last night?

It doesn’t smell like a hospital room though. It actually
smells kind of… minty.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and my feet touch
soft white carpet. Hospital rooms aren’t usually carpeted, are they?

I go over to the window, but looking out of it is useless
because there’s a snowdrift outside and I can’t see anything. Whatever happened
last night, one of the things was a blizzard.

I glance at the door instead. I’m a little wary of opening
it. I have no idea where I am or how I got here. I have no idea what is outside
that door. I look around for a weapon of some kind, but there is quite
literally nothing in the room but the bed I just got out of. It’s more of a
cubicle than a room.

The door opens to a big room with a dozen other doors around
its white walls. On the far wall is a big TV. In the middle of the room is a
group of sofas, and on one of the sofas is a woman. She has her knees up to her
chest, her arms wrapped around them, and her head hidden between them as she
rocks back and forth. Movement across the room catches my eye, and I look up to
see a boy around my age also standing in a doorway, looking curious.

He lifts his hand in greeting and I do the same. “Are you
normal?” he asks from across the room.

“Define normal.”

That makes him grin. “I think you qualify. I can’t get a
word of sense out of her.” He indicates the woman still rocking back and forth
on the sofa.

I glance at her. Yeah, in all fairness, she doesn’t look
very normal. I look over at the boy again and notice he’s wearing a thermal sweater
and trousers. It takes me far too long to realise that I’m wearing the same.
Where the hell are my own clothes? I don’t even own a thermal top, much less
thermal trousers.

“Do you know where we are?” I ask the boy.

“No idea. All I remember is a very fucked-up dream, and then
I woke up here.”

“Me too,” I tell him.

The memory of last night suddenly comes back to me in a
flood. The purple moose sitting in the middle of my bedroom, telling me it was
the Ghost of Christmases Ruined.

“What was your dream about?” I ask the boy.

“Messed up,” he says. “There was this reindeer or moose or
something in it. Told me I had to go to the North Pole because I’d ruined
Christmas. Why? You have weird dreams too?”

“Yeah,” I say slowly. “There was a moose in my room. It said
it was the Ghost of Christmases Ruined and that I would be taken to the North
Pole to learn to behave acceptably or something.”

“Yeah,” the boy says in recognition. “That’s what mine said
too. That’s a bit bloody creepy, isn’t it?”

“What, that we both had the same dream or that we’re both
here and we don’t know where we are?”

He shrugs. “What’s your name?”

Ah, the dreaded question. Ever since I was old enough to
start school, I have dreaded every mention of my name. Every register call,
every new person I meet, everywhere I go.

“Misty,” I say eventually. It’s not like it’s a lie or
anything. Misty is what I go by and what I tell everyone my name is. “What’s
yours?” I ask him.

“Luke,” he says.

“Hey, um, lady on the sofa,” I say. “What’s your name?”

I can hear her mumbling but I can’t make out what she’s
saying. I slip out of the doorway and go a bit closer to her.

“Excuse me, what’s your name?” I ask gently.

She mutters again and I have to go closer still to hear her.

“They’re watching, they’re watching.” She’s mumbling away to
herself.

“What’s your name?” I ask again. “Do you know where we are?”

“They’re watching, they’re watching.”

“Who’s watching?” I ask.

“The ducks.”

I stare at her. “Okay, then.”

Luke bursts out laughing.

She ignores us both and continues mumbling to herself.

“See? I did try to tell you,” Luke says.

I look around the room. There really isn’t much to see. It’s
very plain and empty, and there’s nothing in here apart from us, the TV on the
wall, and the group of sofas. There’s one big door at the front of the room and
I walk over to it.

“I already tried, it’s locked,” Luke says.

I prove him right by trying it myself. “This is insane.”

“You’re telling me,” Luke says. “Hey, what does this place
smell of to you?”

“Mint,” I say. “Like peppermint.”

“Like… candy canes?”

I nod.

He seems to be thinking it over.

“So, do you have any ideas?” I ask him.

“Well, I know it sounds crazy, but the fact we both dreamt
about a purple moose telling us he was taking us to the North Pole… Do you
think we might actually be in the North Pole?”

It’s my turn to burst out laughing. “I think he dropped you
on your head on the way over. Hey, did you dream about flying?”

“Yes,” Luke says. “Sort of floating on my back. And it was
really cold.”

“Yes! We had the same dream.”

“Me too,” the woman on the sofa says.

“What, you had that dream too?” Luke steps forwards to ask
her.

“They’re watching, they’re watching.” She’s gone back to her
rocking and mumbling.

“Great,” Luke mutters.

I get a better look at him now he’s closer to me.

He’s really cute actually. Floppy dark blond hair and big
green eyes.

“So, what do we do?” I ask him.

Before Luke has a chance to respond, another one of the
doors opens and a man steps out.

As Luke turns his head to look, I notice he has really
pointy ears sticking out from under his hair.

The man looks to be in his forties, overweight and unshaven,
and even though he’s only been in the room for a few seconds the smell of
peppermint is overpowered by the smell of body odour and stale beer.

Ew.

“What’s going on here then?” the man booms. “Who are you
people?”

He makes me nervous and I find myself stepping a little bit
closer to Luke.

“We don’t know what’s going on,” Luke says. “All we can
remember is some really weird dreams. Did you have any dreams last night?”

The man thinks for a moment. “Yeah, funnily enough, I
remember a moose, a talking moose. It kept going on and on about ruining
Christmas and that I would have to be taught a lesson. Quite an annoyance, it
was.”

“Did you dream about flying after that?”

He thinks again. “Yeah, yeah, that’s ringing a bell. More of
a floating than a flying, really. Bloody cold too.”

“We all had the same dream,” I say.

“You lot dreamt about a talking moose too?”

Luke and I both nod.

“So where are we?” the man asks.

“We don’t know,” I tell him. “We just woke up here like you.
What’s your name?”

“Joe.” He steps forwards and shakes our hands in turn.

“Luke.”

“Misty.”

“That sounds like a porn star’s name,” Joe says.

“Gee, thanks.”

To be honest, sounding like a porn star is better than
sounding like a Christmas decoration, but I don’t tell him that.

“What’s her deal?” Joe points to the woman on the sofa.

“She thinks she’s being watched,” Luke says. “By ducks.”

Joe lets out a huge laugh, complete with jiggling belly
sticking out from underneath his white thermal sweater.

“You don’t understand,” the woman suddenly says. “They’re
everywhere.
Everywhere.
”

“All right, love, keep your hair on,” Joe says. “Hey, you
guys want to hear a joke?”

Neither of us responds. The woman has gone back to rocking
and mumbling.

“Of course you do,” Joe continues, unfazed. “What’s white
and round?”

“I don’t know,” I say.

Luke thinks for a moment. “A white circle.”

“Hah! Wrong, wrong, wrong,” Joe says. “The answer is a red
cube.”

He guffaws again and saliva droplets spray out of his mouth.

Luke glances at me. “And we think Duck Lady is the crazy
one,” he says quietly.

I can’t help but laugh at that.

“See? The porn star gets it,” Joe says between fits of
giggles.

“No, I really don’t,” I say, but he’s too busy laughing to
hear me.

“Joe,” Luke says sternly, “do you know what’s going on? Do
you know where we are?”

“I don’t remember how much I drank last night, but it
must’ve been a hell of a lot to still be drunk this morning.”

“This isn’t because you’re drunk, Joe,” Luke says. “We’re
all here, none of us know where, and we all had weird dreams about a talking
moose and the North Pole.”

“You saying you think we’re in the North Pole?”

Luke shrugs.

“And you think she’s the crazy one.” Joe points to Duck
Lady.

“What’s the last thing you all remember?” I ask. “I mean,
maybe someone drugged us all and kidnapped us.”

“It was a normal night,” Luke says. “I got home from
college, had dinner, did some coursework, killed some people on
Call of Duty
, had a shower, went to bed.”

“I got a takeaway and a six-pack and watched some porn on
pay-per-view,” Joe says. “Then I passed out on the couch and when I woke up, I
was here. What did you do, porn star?”

“It’s Misty, please. And I did nothing. Got home from
school, my mum made me help her bake Christmas cookies, watched cartoons with
my little sister and read her a story. Then I had a long bath, checked
Facebook, and played around online for a while. When I woke up in the night,
there was a purple moose in the middle of my bedroom.”

“So it’s safe to say we didn’t all go to the same party and
get drugged by a maniac then?” Luke ventures.

“I guess so. But how else do you explain this?”

“Maybe we should be concentrating less on how to explain it
and more on how the hell to get out of here?” Luke says.

“Have you tried that door?” Joe asks.

“Locked.”

“How about the windows in the rooms?”

“They don’t open,” Luke says. “They’re just for decoration.”

“We could smash one,” I suggest.

“Well, you and I might fit through, but beer belly over there
never would,” Luke says as if Joe isn’t standing right there. “Plus we can’t
see outside because of the snow. We don’t know what’s out there, and maybe I’m
imagining it, but I feel like we’re high up. I don’t think this building is on
ground level.”

I don’t have much sense of direction, but I think he’s
right.

“Do you think there’s anyone else in the other rooms?”

Just as we start debating whether we should go and check or
not, Luke suddenly stops. “Shush a minute—do you guys hear that?”

I strain my ears to listen.

“I don’t hear anything,” Joe says. “Maybe your pointy ears
pick up things that aren’t there.”

Luke blushes and self-consciously tries to smooth his hair
over his ears.

“They’re coming,” the woman on the sofa says suddenly.

“Who’s coming, love? The ducks, is it?” Joe chortles.

“Wait, I hear it too.” It sounds like… bells. And it’s
getting louder.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me. Jingle bells?
Seriously?” Luke makes a noise of frustration just as the lock of the main door
starts to turn.