At "eight hundred hours", a bell rings and the Dining Hall roars with the kind of life that sparks from stress. Emoby and I are ripped apart too soon, somehow been swept into a crowd and assumed that they were on the right way.
At last, the pack stops charging and a mahogany door is pulled open. Slowly, we trickle past a placard reading Theatre Five. It has the same 2002 coldness about it, shadows absorbing all forms of light. There is a cascade of a few hundred seats that are filling from the back. I take a spot as far from the lectern as possible, zoning out to the humdrum buzzing around me.
"Addi?"
I snap my neck up and meet a familiar face. "Dee?" It feels like an eternity since I'd last seen her, but we'd had geography class together two days ago. Amid the chaos of waking up in a foreign institution and brushing off a million unanswerable questions, two days seems like an entire lifetime ago.
"What're you doing here?"
"I don't think I have a choice," I laugh, inviting her to sit. I'd left the seat beside me empty as a buffer between me and the next person. Without Ebony or even Thomas, I'd been feeling extremely apprehensive about these unfamiliar faces. But since Dee arrived, I feel a little relieved that I'm not alone here. This relief won't last long.
A thud sounds from the entrance. Two armed guards stand before the now-closed doors. Our attention shifts to the lectern where a beanstalk of a middle-aged dude is reading his notes, adjusting his glasses with shaking fingers. When he meets our querying eyes, he seems shocked, like he wasn't expecting to do this.
"Good morning to you all, and welcome to 2002," he says, voice bouncing like a rubber ball. "You may call me Campbell. I will be your coordinator for the duration of your stay."
Campbell rambles on about the same thing we'd heard over the speakers. You are safe here. Do your part. Make it better for everyone. Do I believe any of it? Not really. He says that great tests are coming. I try to decipher whether he means literal examinations or the usual trials and tribulations of life.
"Here at 2002, we are devoted to acting in the best interest of our residents, which is why it is imperative that you abide by the rules stated in the Manual. Failure to do so will earn you a strike. Three strikes put you on trial and your right to be here may be contested. Ultimately, you may be evicted. So, just remember—"
Campbell looks up from his notes and happens to lock eyes with me.
"You are safe here."
