Searching For Time (book 2) ✔

Nostalgia

As his pale hands pushed open the thick, oak doors he let out a small gasp. The walls were made of the perfect shade of chocolate brown wood and the rich velvet carpet made everything blend together. There were frames full of awards and certificates lining the walls and each seemed to move magically, as if enchanted with magic.

The snowy haired boy took a few steps further into the Entrance Hall to look around whilst everyone else remained by the doors watching.

The oak banisters looked slightly worn, Carlos placed his hand upon them, and an image appeared in his head of him and another running up the stairs full of laughter. Carlos tried to focus on the memory; he scrunched his eyes up strained... but the memory vanished.

"Y'alright?" came Harry's voice with an undertone of worry.

"Yeah." he breathed out, "Just a memory. Jay, did you chase me up these once?"

Jay let out a boyish laugh. "Yeah, but only because you stole my chocolate."

Carlos grinned back at the lad and continued to look around the room. There was a small picture in the centre of the back wall which grabbed his attention. It was of him, Jay, Evie and Mal. They all seemed much younger; he wondered how long ago it was taken.

"Almost two years ago." said Ben, as if knowing what Carlos was going to ask. "It was taken when you arrived. I think it shows you all off perfectly."

Mal was frowning, Evie looked ecstatic, Jay was smirking and Carlos was grinning at the camera with excitement. He wondered how the younger him felt when this was taken.

A sense of longing filled Carlos as he was overwhelmed with everything that had happened in the past few hours: he woke up, remembered nothing, met almost complete strangers, and now is looking at something he should remember but doesn't.

His heart gave a lurch and his mind blanked out. A sharp pain from the wound on his chest made him groan and lean on the wall for support. He took a deep breath then stood up and acted like nothing was wrong. He couldn't let his guard down yet. His mind filled with these thoughts, his legs started moving but he didn't know where they were going.

It was strange.

He moved to the bottom of the staircase, gazed over to the gang, then swiftly walked upstairs. Everyone rushed to follow, speaking to each other in quiet tones.

"Do you know where he's going?"

"Do you think he remembers something?"

"Hurry up, damn, he walks fast."

They followed Carlos along several corridors until they reached the dormitories. Then up another set of stairs and yet more corridors. After about five minutes of walking Carlos suddenly stopped at a door. It was the same as all of the others except there was a visible lock on it.

"Hmm, let's see." said Carlos before crouching down to look at it. It seemed familiar and before he knew it his hands were upon the lock and opening it without any thought. A click echoed and the door swung open. He looked over to the group and saw everyone, especially Jay and Harry, was impressed.

"You would've done great in our gang." Uma spoke up.

Carlos had no clue what she was on about so turned away and entered the room. There were two giant beds, a large table, some sort of machine- a printer maybe- a large TV screen and one wall was home to a large window that let in light and showed the school grounds.

"This was my room, wasn't it?" 

"Yeah," Jay answered, "we we're roommates. This was your bed, and you built a mini fridge since we always stayed up late often, that's your 3D printer, and this is the TV where I'd play horror movies and sometimes you'd freak out if they were too graphic... not like it'll bother you anymore," he mumbled this so only the gang could hear, "and we'd spend hours looking out the window talking about the past and the future. This was our home, our den, just for you and me." he finished looking nostalgic.

"Really? That's why I knew where to go."

He looked around at the room. He could feel that so many things happened in this room. He was just feeling sad and empty at the fact he could remember none of it.