Books With Boarding Schools Novels & Stories

This made her a bit of an anomaly at the fancy Saint Blaise's Academy. *** Saint Blaise's Academy was an international boarding school for the gifted. Saint Blaise's had a fabled history. In its early years, it had served as a sanctuary school for the children of persecuted immigrants and heirs of displaced royalty. It's location in the far country side had made it a safe place for children during war time as it was very far inland. Currently in peace time, however, it made for a very remote and very exclusive boarding school for the heirs of the elite rich and the rare and occasional qualified scholars.

But something about my new school and their students just screams that they’re different from other students outside Whistler High. I looked at the girl with glasses, her hair was in a neat ponytail and wasn’t showing any playfulness. She was serious and after saying that in front, she just left our classroom, just carrying her bag and her books. So, I just shrugged my shoulders as I realized that it would be kind of hard for me to befriend more girls here, knowing that some of them might be really cold or just didn’t like having someone who would talk to them. It was crystal clear that indeed they are different. Maybe it was also because of how some of them were raised here in this school.

“Although the school is pretty big, the community is actually comparatively small. And every one basically sees each other every day so it’s harder not to get acquainted you you pass each other in the hall ways.” “I did make some friends in my years of stay there, but of course every one changes one way or the other, and I ended up creating a niche of my own just like the others.” She continued. “As you know, kids sent to boarding school are more or less rich so most of the kids in there are pretty much like snobs. But since we’re all in there to get educated, we all have to act civil with one another.” “Are you one of them?” I ask her. She’s pretty much an angel to me and every one around h

It had been fed and instilled in her at all the boarding schools that they had been. Time keeping was instilled in boarding schools where bells were invariably rung to command a move from the students. And punishments were handed out for dilly-dallying or chattering on the corridors. No one was spared in order for not keeping time and that too to an acceptable limit.. That was another thing which was common in their backgrounds. The invariable number of boarding schools that they had attended. It was something that he had understood to be the dumping or abandoning ground for the number of excess children in the family and all the new marriages on the horizon.

“Not many students have reason to.” The lock clicked. Then another. With a soft groan, the gate slowly swung open. The room beyond was somehow even larger than I’d expected. Shelves. Endless shelves. Some reached nearly to the ceiling. Others held neatly labeled wooden boxes instead of books. Leather-bound journals filled entire rows. Rolled maps rested inside long cubbies built into one wall. Stacks of loose manuscripts waited patiently on broad tables beneath protective cloths. It felt less like walking into another room… And more like stepping into someone’s lifetime.

I’m always desperate for attention, whether it’s negative or positive. I look forward to the punishments just like the rewards. Maybe that means I’m a little warped, but oh well. I’m a bad girl and I deserve to be disciplined. At least, I hope I will be. I mean, what’s a girl got to do to get a little attention around here? I sigh dramatically and look around me. It’s a beautiful, picturesque setting if I let myself think about it. The boarding school is situated amid a vast plot of forested acreage in the idyllic New England countryside, with tons of space for outdoor activities, competitive sports, and events.

With strict parents but relatively less devotion to tutored studies, she had always been a shock to everyone. ‘Well, what to do? It’s my choice. My life. My decision. My freedom. That’s all,’ Rithanya thought as she went to her room for her morning ablutions. A serious issue has been sorted out. When every other kid of her age screamed and shuddered at the very thought of a boarding school, she volunteered herself to join it, away from home for two years to finish her Higher Secondary course. Her idea of boarding schools was that they were strict, all-work-no-play camps where she could devote every minute of her time to study – memorise. They were educational factories churning out top score

That didn't feel too good but the system was in the works and there's nothing I could do about it. It was an all girls boarding school. As you can imagine, those four years were full of drama and memorable moments. Being bi-sexual didn't bond too well in the conservative African environment that we live in. It was chalked up to sexual immorality and at best, just teenage hormones. I think being in a girls boarding school did nothing to ease that and if anything just amplified the so-called hormones.

“They have a boarding school program. A junior college, for people fourteen through seventeen.” Ben shifts his weight at the mention of boarding school, which I was prepared for. I’d talked to Isla in length about the prospect. Neither of us want to send Ben away, but he’s a bright kid, and Wells is the best of the best. I want nothing less for him.

We have; House Artemis and House Apollo which boards the Year Ones, then House Persephone and House Hades for the Year Twos, and finally, House Hera and House Zeus for the Year Threes, aka the seniors, aka us that are ready to hightail out of this shithole, fancy ass, elitist boarding school. Around the whole campus is a ring of thick forest, beyond which are the high gates that keeps us safely trapped, like an expensive cage. When mom had driven me to the school as a Year One student, I had been fascinated and excited to finally grace the halls of Acadia Academy. A week later however, I wanted to burn it down. It was Bibah who wrestled the matches out of my hands, figuratively and literally