Carnival Day

Five

RQC: Favorite sport? Sorry I had no idea what to ask for this chapter. Mine is probably surfing, even though I've never gotten the chance to do it. Yet.

...Five...
-May-
3:30 p.m.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand while I finish mopping the last room.

Finally done. There's no way she's going to win.

Satisfied, I head back to one of the storage closets to put the mop away and accidentally run straight into Miss Alma when I turn a corner.

She gasps.

I gasp.

I think the whole hallway did, too.

"Well, look who it is. I was hoping not to see you for the rest of the day, but I suppose you think you can just run into people that don't like you and get away with it."

"No, ma'a---" I start, but she doesn't let me finish.

"We've been over this. But I don't expect you to remember since you can't even remember how to turn a corner without bumping into someone. I still haven't given you permission to talk to me, so why are you speaking?"

"..."

"Good. That's the answer I wish everyone would give me. Anyway, extra work for you. Go to room C-5."

I nod my head as I leave that dreadful hallway. No, that's not fair. The hallway isn't dreadful. It's the people in it.

I finally reach a storage closet. I open the door and place the broom in. My original plans of waiting for Georgia, acting like I'd been done for hours, is a no-go. I make my way to the basement, where room C-5 would be. I've never been down to the basement before. It's off-limits to everyone but the staff. Sometimes, while I'm cleaning the lower floors, I hear strange, creepy sounds coming through the vents. Georgia and I like to make theories of what's down there. We narrowed it down the three options:

1) It's where they punish the kids that misbehave, which would explain why I would be going down there, I guess. Even though running into Alma was an accident.

2) They're working on some sort of secret device, one of which would perform a dreadful task, such as mind control. That way they wouldn't have to worry about free will. Like we have any here, anyway.

Or, 3) It's barren. Empty. It is used solely for the purpose of freaking us out. And the noises? Just the factory settling.

Guess I'm about to find out.

I reach the stairs that lead to the basement, and start down them. They creak louder and louder with every step, as if complaining. I reach for the doorknob, nerves on edge, turn the knob---

-BAM!-

I scream and jump back, which leads to me slipping, falling back, and hitting my head on one of the stairs.

Smooth.

I check for blood, but thankfully don't find any. Something from the inside of the basement must've slammed into the door. Hard enough the where it seemed like it should've pushed the door open, but didn't.