writer (s): zumokiworks
“I thought I saw something for a moment there. Guess it’s just one of those things that creep to the corner of your eye or something,” I mutter to myself. I take a final look at my new room. It looks quite similar to my own room, just with more space and less supply, I guess I would say. That mattress, however, looks somewhat uncomfortable, and I mean it is just a mattress, I know before I said it was a metal bed or something, but that’s only because I was assuming. Seeing it now, it’s really just a mattress, no sheets, cover or even a pillow, not even a spring box for support. Just a fucking mattress. It’s not that big of a deal though, I mean, I could sleep on the floor if I wanted, not that I ever would.
I stand in my room to acknowledge how well I am feeling, and I do not mean in terms of emotions, but in terms of health, except, when you think about it, health does involve emotional wellness. I examine my desk and stool. I am not very happy about having a stool to sit on; sitting on stools makes my butt go numb. Now, as for my desk, I actually like it. A black desk with small compartments on the side for storage, and a gap on the bottom to fit my legs in or in other cases more storage; my old desk had the same feature, but it wasn't as fitting for my legs, so, as you could guess, I used it for storage.
I flop myself onto the mattress. “Ugh, fuck,” I yelp. How did I forget that this thing didn’t have a spring box? Although I guess it doesn’t hurt that much, it was just kind of sudden. My back kind of hurts though. Qs I internally scream for this pain to fade, I stare at the ceiling, contemplating what will happen during my stay here. I wonder and yet I can’t come up with any possible scenarios. The scenario usually involves some kind of conflict, but I guess since I don’t know much about this place, nothing's really coming up. As I lie in wait, I soon doze off and soon fall asleep.
I’m sinking in a deep darkness. There are voices.
“Looks like a new friend.”
“You don’t like him?”
“…hmmm… I don’t….”
There’s a light. I suddenly find myself in a room that's bright, but not too bright to see.
There’s a doorway, but no door.
I step forward, peeking out the doorway.
The area is dimly lit; some lights are flickering.
Near the hallway entrance, there is a boy. His hair is black and his eyes are yellow or maybe orange. I can’t tell.
His shirt is white and it reaches almost to his ankles. “Is that shirt’s all he’s wearing?” I whisper to myself.
He's clinging tightly to a maroon colored ball.
I take a step out of the room.
My footsteps echo through the halls. The boy slowly turns his head towards me.
We glare at each other.
The boy walks through a pair of double doors. His footsteps echo as well when he's walking.
I follow him, but I'm in no rush, so just as the boy walks calmly, I too decide to take a stroll to explore my surroundings.
I enter the double doors. The hallway is dark, my only source of light is the moonlight shining through the windows.
As I wandered the halls, there's a dripping noise accompanied by the pitter-patter of more footsteps.
I assumed that the boy is nearby.
As I walked along the hallway, I come across a strange room, its double doors locked up with chains complemented with a padlock.
I can’t see anything through its windows, as they're pitch black.
Taking the time to see how dark it was, I decide to check it out later, after I get a better out look of the place.
I reach another pair of double doors.
And by those doors, the boy is sitting down hugging his ball.
I slowly approach him and he slowly looks up at me. I stand only a few inches away from him as we look at each other again. He stands up, touching the door with his open, bare hand. I glance at the door and then back at him.
The thought that comes to me was, “It’s a door.” The boy suddenly stands on his feet, tapping the door over and over. I slowly press my fingers up against the door; the first thing I notice is that I can’t feel what I am touching, which hints at me that this is a dream, but I don’t give it any more thought than that. The door isn’t budging that easily, so I push it with more force, bare-handed.
The door opens little by little, squeaking louder and louder as the door opens wider.
The boy walks through the door and waits for me on the other side.
I walk through the double doors, slightly cautious of what will come next; the door silently shuts behind me, there is a click when the door closes.
It grabs my attention; I try to open them, to see if they have locked or something, only to realize that the doors don’t have a knob or handle to grab onto on the other side.
I wonder why a door needs a locking mechanism when it isn’t possible to open it from the other side. I avert my attention back to the boy.
He is paused in a position, looking up at me, about to tug on my clothing, but he's restraining himself.
The boy moves aside like a peasant to their master or king.
I am confused at first, but walk forward. I come face to a wall with some kind of writing in symbols. I can’t read it, obviously. I think it's quoting something, because there are symbols that look similar to quotation marks. I assume that each symbol is a letter and that each dot is like the space between words.
“28 letters, 6 words,” I mutter. I am currently deep in thought, trying to decipher the quote.
Something pierces me from back to front, part of my rib cage becoming a brutal open fracture as blood fills my throat, parts of my rib cage maneuvering like bones with joints. I am too much in the moment to realize that it might not be my rib cage.
As I turn my heard, a voice speaks.
“Separate the bones from the flesh.” The child’s hands and arms bust through me like air pressure through a steam pipe his arms wrapped in a black cloth armored in bones and organs… his arms separated from my flesh as I fell to my knees… I was lost for words as my body twisted falling to the ground. My last vision of his giant boned fingers gripping what I could only assume was my rib cage entangled in chunks of my flesh…
Everything went dark… voices could be heard again…
“So…liking your new play thing?”
“Do you not like it?”
“…. I’m growing”
“That’s good… just remember … when making friends try your best but when it doesn’t work out…”
“Separate the bones…from the flesh.”
I woke up from that dream… it didn’t leave me shivering but it was a dream that was questionable. My first response was “I had a dream” many times when I sleep, I don’t have a dream… it’s just pitch black for a quick moment or something.
I sat up on my mattress looking towards my black desk… serval Items were placed on top of it. I walked to my desk the room echoed with every step of my shoes that I took a seat to examine my materials…
One journal, one sketchbook and one book of graph paper… three sharpened pencils labeled “NO.6”. A sharpie, a ruler and… a ballpoint pen… this isn’t what I requested… but it was still something so I didn’t complain… I guess their supplies are scarce or perhaps it’s just a shortage…
As I finished up examining my supplies there was a heavy knock at the door… “Who is it” I uttered… there was no reply immediately I was irritated… I always hated when people did this…. “Hey… hello!” I uttered loudly… I looked up at the window… it was dark, the full moon shining through my window
“Who could it be at this hour… the faculty should be able to get in here with that number code?” I thought to myself. The knock came again… it was only then I realized…
That it might not be the faculty or staff knocking on my door.