Gardens of Destruction

Jana Petroff’s footsteps echoed down the labyrinthine corridors of the grand old school. The air was thick with the scent of chalk dust and the murmur of student chatter, a cacophony that seemed to amplify her growing sense of dread. Adjusting her glasses nervously, she navigated the throng of students, her brow furrowed in worry.

Jana had always felt like an outsider in this world of privilege and affluence. Her real name was Yana, but she had adopted the more Americanized Jana to avoid the constant explanations and raised eyebrows. Born in Eastern Europe, her family had fled the turmoil of the Iron Curtain, seeking refuge in the United States. The transition had been arduous, but they had persevered, eventually finding stability and a sense of belonging.

University, science, and the unexpected whirlwind of love followed. Then, the arrival of a child—Valentina—and the subsequent cascade of tribulations. Valentina, a wondrous yet fragile soul, suffered from an incurable autoimmune disorder. Her body, deceived by its own defenses, waged a relentless war within, an unseen battle that rendered medical treatment futile and an ominous fate inevitable. Days melded into a relentless cycle of hospital visits, medicinal regimes, and precautionary measures. Despite the perpetual plight, Val bore her burden with a courage that belied her tender years. She refrained from lamenting her condition, embracing a stark reality that was, in her innocent understanding, immutable. Even amidst blood transfusions and treatments, Valentina conjured games, weaving laughter through the sterile halls of hospitals. Doctors marveled at her resilience, cherishing her spirit and the whimsical jests she peppered through her medical travails. For Jana, however, the injustice of a child’s suffering remained an unfathomable abyss. She harbored silent tears that streamed in the solitude of night, grappling with a sense of powerlessness. Jana yearned to exude strength for Valentina’s sake, but her facade crumbled beneath the weight of despair, a facade barely masking her true vulnerability. Her life had become an incessant vigil, revolving solely around Val, her anchor amidst tempestuous seas. She clung to Valentina as her lifeline in the relentless storm of their existence.

Jana’s heart pounded in her chest as she stepped into the headmaster’s office. The air was thick with the smell of polished wood and aged leather, and the walls were adorned with framed portraits of past headmasters, their stern faces staring down at her with an air of authority. The office was spacious and well-appointed, with a large oak desk at the center, behind which sat the headmistress, a woman with a stern expression and piercing blue eyes. The room was dominated by a large window that looked out over the school grounds, the sun casting long shadows across the manicured lawns. Jana approached the desk, her footsteps echoing in the silence of the room. The headmistress looked up from her paperwork, a hint of disapproval in her eyes.

“Mrs. Petroff, I’m glad you could come so quickly,” the headmistress greeted her with an outstretched hand, yet her countenance lacked any warmth.

“You know this cannot persist. This is the third occurrence this month alone! You must understand, it disrupts both the teachers and the other children,” she admonished, her tone tinged with a sense of sternness.

“Yes, ma’am, I understand. But she diligently adheres to her procedures and follows the prescribed medications. The doctors assure us that her condition is stable, and such incidents should become increasingly rare.”

“It’s a strange definition of “stable,” considering the seizures!”

The principal paused, studying Jana’s face for a moment.

“Look, Mrs. Petroff, I’m not heartless. Valentina is a remarkable child, but this cannot continue. If these occurrences persist, I will have no choice but to recommend a specialized school where she can receive the necessary medical oversight.”

“You don’t realize what she has endured from such a tender age! Moving her would mean losing her friends, her favourite places, her entire world! She was just beginning to embrace a semblance of normalcy,” Jana pleaded, her desperation palpable.

The headmistress averted her gaze, unable to meet the mother’s eyes, aware that she lacked the fortitude to keep an ‘atypical’ child enrolled in her school.

“I understand, Jana. I really do. But we have to think about the safety of all the children in this school. All the teachers are afraid of what might happen. They are not trained for this. As I said, you should seriously consider finding a school for children with special needs. All I can do is give you another month to prove she is getting better!” she reluctantly conceded.

The principal watches as Jana storms out of the office, closing the door behind her.