The Container Boy

Nothing is more paralleled than this pitch-black place except for small holes. Sounds of descending and ascending scale, musty smell mixed floral, garlicky and citrusy one, also people breathing.

Moonlight sneaks through small holes. After hours, bursts of light began to be stronger when the sun shines brightly.

Five faces shimmer in the sunlight.

"Wake up kids, time for school." The Mother demanded.

She is wearing a silk pink baby robe over her pajamas while the father is wearing a dark blue silk robe.

She opens the curtains: people are indistinctly chattering around the isolated factory where they are living in containers.

The Mother accompanies her children to the restroom passing through the packed dwelling. She grabs the hands of her children: the elder son, the middle daughter, and the baby son. They walk in a line behind their hasty mother to seize a spot in the long line as people are queuing to go to the bathroom, early morning, eye boogers, yawning kids, and parents holding their toiletry bags and towels. Kids take a shower at night while adults in the morning.

Then they return to their container, The Father prepares breakfast just sufficient for them to eat then puts the leftovers in their lunch boxes.

The Mother has to feed the little one, they sit around a plastic table and foldable chairs.

"How was breakfast?" The Father asked.

Kids just smile and no reaction from The Mother.

"Get dressed for school." The Mother said with a straight face.

The kids go inside taking turns wearing their uniforms to catch the bus.

The Bus driver drops the children off at the public school that is a few kilometers away. The Container Boy does that while taking a tiny daily bus fare from his parents.

The Container Boy hops on the bus holding hands with his middle sister. He tries to absorb the head-scratching situation.

He walks through the noisy hallway of the bus with all the kids chatting, yelling, and crying.

He can just see students moving, talking, and goofing around as the voices are inaudible are blocked by his playlist music.

He has a rigid expression, and a lack of eye contact because the place he's about to go is like an inferno for him: teachers along with classmates are featureless humans.

He just goes there as a kind of obligation.

While looking through the foggy windows, "I think I am just cranky in the morning." He sighed.

With rusty sides and beat-up seats. The noise is agonizingly irking, the bouncing paired with the jerking is dreadful. The ramshackle bus is rattling as if they are on a seesaw. The wheels grate horribly. It's like a never-ending journey to hell.

Finally, they arrive at school. Its façade is rather unpretentious off-white eggshell color. 

The Container Boy heads to his class like a snail, walking along the hall as usual, avoiding eye contact with anyone. He feels relieved to finally reach his classroom. His classes are just bland with little to no interaction.

In addition, during the break, he hears the whispers, giggles, and gazes but he IGNORES them.

Time goes by like a walking sloth. The Container Boy has to suck it up until he comes up with a brand new idea to get out of it.