back when we were kids | johnlock

sh | newbie

It was a nice feeling walking down the corridors of a school and feeling genuinely safe, like someone wasn't waiting for him to round the corner so he could be shoved against the lockers and threatened with his life. Even if he did have to wear a school uniform, it was really a small price to pay for happiness. The dark grey did nicely match his eyes, as his mother had remarked when trying on the uniform a few days prior. She'd started meddling, straightening his tie and trying to flatten his curls but he batted her away and told her to stop meddling with him, especially his hair which he liked the way it was. His suitcase trundled on behind him along the corridor, but his attention kept being quickly stolen by the fliers and notice boards lining the corridors: rugby, choir, lacrosse, chess, tapestry club(??), it all happened here at Morbey. For such a busy school, it could not have been more remote.

On the drive up to the school, his mother had made several comments, to which he hadn't dignified with a response.

"Oh, William, dear, look at that. Barely any housing around here, only a few shops in the village. You'll be terribly bored, dear."

"I do hope they have a post office here, I'll be sending you letters every week and you will be sending them back, won't you William?" she questioned, expecting an answer which never came.

His mind had been elsewhere the whole journey anyway, in the mindset of having to do introductions with people, and in general socialise so as to not immediately appear like a social outcast. He already began to fidget with the piece of paper he held tightly in his hand with his dorm room number on it. The further he went down the corridor, the more nervous he grew. He didn't want to have to move schools halfway through the year, wouldn't that be embarrassing? The chemistry teacher has to be good, actually all teachers should but the chemistry teacher most definitely. I have to have enough space in the dorm room for me and my thoughts. Most importantly though, people have to leave me the hell alone this year and mind their own business. It's year 11, I have my GCSEs and I don't want to get dunked headfirst into a toilet bowl before my English language paper.

He turned a corner and stopped outside the administrators door, then gave a firm knock and entered.

"Hello, I was told I should sign in here to confirm my place here at Morbey?" he said hesitantly.

The old burly man sitting at the desk (presumably the administrator), raised his gaze to him, and gestured to a stack of papers in which several students had already signed their names. He grabbed a pen from the desk, not asking whether he could borrow it, and wrote his name, his shortened name, underneath the last name, placed the pen in the pen pot on the desk and left, wheeling his trunk behind him.

Wow, he could have at least just spoken to me. What a great first impression I'm getting of this school.

Now, next task. Dorm room and roommate. This should be fun.

After a few more extensive corridors and staircases, he arrived outside dorm room number 21 and waited a few beats before he pulled the door open. He pushed his trunk in first and then followed it, gazing down at the floor until he closed the door and was sure his roommate wasn't right there when he came in. He wheeled his suitcase over to the bed closest to the window and swung his suitcase on the bed.

He looked around for a moment. Well this isn't so bad. Big window, good-enough looking bed, and enough room around the bed that he could sit on the floor and work if he wished (with the added bonus of a carpet next to his bed too). He smiled down at the carpet.

"Hi."

He practically jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice and ended up sitting half on his suitcase and half falling on his bed in shock, gripping his luggage handle tightly.