Wild

Chapter 4

Astrid's POV

Three months. It's been three months since I've been here and I've surprised that I'm still alive. I've learnt a few 'survival skills': never eat the mac and cheese in the cafeteria unless you want to spend your day in the toilet; never raise your hand in the classroom because apparently no one's answer is ever correct; and lastly, do not attempt to even touch your hair during class- don't ask.

Who does that?!

For the past months, I just went to classes and spent the afternoon with either Xander or Jack. Xander and I had a lot in common. I feel like I could talk to him about almost everything. He actually has a similar personality like I do, just that he was not quite the extrovert. Of course, he spent his life here in Mt. Werth, who would ever be an extrovert? Guess I'm the first one here. Jack, on the other hand, is always busy with his artwork, but he sometimes buy lunch for me so I guess he's my friend too. If you're wondering why I've been here for so long and only have two friends regarding my personality, you wondered right. No girls here tried to talk to me, and when I try to approach them and be the 'bigger' person, they just show their scared face. I could live without those shy little girls either ways.

Bell rang, lunch time.

"Hey Xander, do you mind if we don't go outside today? It's kinda hot." I asked as he stacked his books in a neat pile and then carry them. I hope I had that attempt to keep my room tidy. Or my life.

"Sure."

I followed behind him, down the hallways with newly replaced chandeliers that now have actual lit candles on them, entering his room. I tried to picture his room before I entered. Perhaps empty soda cans lined up on the computer desk, forming a pyramid that had been knocked down and left scattered. Or maybe a week's clothes sprawled out on the floor, socks on the chair with a single shoe kicked off on the floor. An unmade bed with books on top of it and a folded pillow half pressed against the wall. Posters of favorite soccer team hung on the wall. For the past few months I resisted the urge to go to his room, thinking of how horrid it might look like and a stench might be living in there for centuries, but today was scorching hot and I couldn't take it.

But when Xander opened the door, it revealed a rather neat room, the exact opposite of my thoughts. It was in shades of blue which felt welcoming. A book shelf painted white with little figures on the highest shelf. The study desk neatly organized with each stationary in its place.

"I painted it myself when I first got here. It's a warm color, don't you think?" He smiled while asking me. I could tell he is really proud of himself.

"Truly. Why don't you have a roommate though?" I asked, seeing that there's only one bed.

"Oh well, I had one when you first came, but two weeks ago he left. I don't even know why 'cause we don't always talk." He said, stacking books on the shelf.

I sat on his bed which was basically white, but the blanket was sky blue. I was bored out of my mind. Just before I opened my mouth to speak, the door burst open. How rude of that person to do so.

"Mr. Griffin, by any chance have you seen Ms. Ste-" It was Mrs. Davis, and that scar never seemed to heal. She laid her eyes on me and I felt the atmosphere in the room freeze. There was this cold wind that seemed to come from nowhere. I controlled my urge to laugh by faking a cough then looking over at Xander.

"Yes, Mrs. Davis?" Xander understood I was asking for help to remove this awkwardness.

"Well, it seems like for some unknown reason, Ms. Stewarts' roommate has left and she is now all alone in her room. I just came to inform her that. But what are you, Ms. Stewarts, doing in Mr. Griffin's room? Hmm? Care to explain yourself?" She looked at Xander, then me, then Xander, then me. And the last time, she did not take her eyes off mine. That phrase would've sounded romantic in certain stories, but in this case, way creepy. The more I stare at her, the longer her scar seemed to grow.