Young and Foolish

Chapter 6: Sticky and Metallic

Theodore's POV:

Each floor, each hallway, each door of the West Wing were perfectly identical. Identical like headstones in a graveyard. 

The whole place was so dimly lit that the ends of the hallways seemed to never end, merely fading off to black. The dark oak flooring was scuffed and stained, especially near certain doors that I plan on avoiding like my life depended on it. Likely, my life did depend on that. There was no way the faint metallic smell in the air was something normal like rusty copper. 

Floor 3, Hallway 8, Room 10. Top floor, last hallway, end room. Obviously, the scratched up door with a weirdly sticky handle and a squeaky hinge was mine. The lights flickered ominously and I tried not to picture every horror movie I had ever seen where the ghost or killer appears behind the main character the moment the light flickers. 

My key didn't quite perfectly fit the keyhole, and the door itself was a fraction too large for its frame. It took a bit of fumbling and shoving to open, and I tried to not let it irk me too much. I'd be stuck with this room until the end of the school year. 

The room was anything but cozy. Cement walls, barred windows, linoleum floors. Everything was dark grey or dark brown. There was a bunkbed by the far corner, two adjacent study desks, two closets, and a shared bathroom. 

I had yet to meet my roommate, but it was hard to believe he wouldn't be bad news. Noticing dark red droplets on the floor, I swallowed thickly, realizing the sticky door handle wasn't just mere grime. 

Other than that, the place was surprisingly neat. Almost as if no one else lived here. Both mattresses on the bunk bed had a thin grey sheet neatly folded near the foot of the bed. I couldn't tell which belonged to my roommate, so I merely tucked my suitcases beside the desk and left them there. Both desks looked untouched. I opened the closet, and there were two uniforms in each. The one on the right looked exactly my size, but the other one was far larger. 

The closets had a set of drawers inside them, where I figured my roommate had his only belongings. I didn't touch it for fear he'd come back and cut my hands off. I moved my suitcases into the right one, too tired to pack away my stuff at the moment. 

The only semblance of life in my room could be found in the bathroom. I was glad I hadn't eaten prior. 

It didn't smell bad, and the toilet wasn't unclean. But the mirror was cracked down the middle, The sink and countertop had more dried blood smears. Someone had punched a hole through the shower tile, right at my head height. 

I gulped. I closed the door before I could begin to imagine my head in front of that hole the next time someone wanted to punch something. 

I sat down on the floor, leaning against the bunkbed. I brought my knees up and rested my head on them, wrapping my arms around me. 

This was it. My new life. Yay me.