Strains

Chapter 3

The doors close behind us with a thud. Thank goodness that's over. Still, even though I have my own dorm now and have apparently been admitted, it feels like the staff has been apprehensive about the whole thing. I'm about to ask Matthew about it when he lets out an audible groan.

I shift the box of odds and ends in my hands and look up at him.

"Something wrong?"

"We'll speak when we find your room," he says, turning back to the administration building.

What is he doing? I really don't want to go back there again. Maybe they forgot to give us something but still. I want to tell Matthew to forget it, I'll live with whatever mistake April made, even if it means I live under a staircase like Harry Potter. Before Matthew climbs the steps up the building, he veers to the left. I follow him along the narrow dirt trail, careful to not let the box I'm holding get stuck on the rosebushes. We wind around the stone foundation of the building until Matthew comes to an abrupt stop. I bump into him, slightly, hardly even worth mentioning, with the box.

He brushes his arm where the box kisses him. Dramatic, much?

To our side is a door. It's nothing like the opulent entrance thirty feet above us. I'm not knowledgeable about the different types of wood, but I've put together enough IKEA furniture to know particleboard when I see it. Matthew takes the handle and as he opens the door, it bows slightly. Who's pisspoor idea was it to make such a shoddy door?

We step into a dark hallway, lit only by a lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. There are four doors including the one we came in, one on our left and right, and one at the end of the hall. I try and clear the dust from my throat.

April must've forgotten something after all and we're just picking it up ourselves. Must be something important to warrant another detour. I freeze and let a spider the size of my hand cross the hallway in front of me. It disappears under the doorframe to my left.

I do not want anything from this place, but Matthew keeps walking forward. Whatever. As long as we hurry up. My stomach drops even further than it already has been when Matthew fishes a key out of his pocket. I hope that isn't...

Matthew has to jiggle the key violently and throw his shoulder into the door just to get it to open. He waves me over with his hand. I hang my head as I walk past him into the room.

It's just as dusty as the hallway is. There are three bulbs hanging from a beam on the exposed wood ceiling. Cobwebs lace from beam to beam as if the ceiling is covered in a white carpet. All the furniture is covered with plastic, not that there is much in the small space. Just a bunk bed that lies in the corner next to a desk and chair.

Matthew looks at his watch and sighs. "Just put your things down, it's already dinner and we shouldn't be late."

I blink twice at him. "Uh...you were supposed to explain everything to me when we got here. I need to know what happened to my parents and why I'm not in a normal dorm."

He takes the box from my hands and places it on the desk. "I don't know what happened to your parents, there is no way for anyone to know where they are or if they're even alive. Your assessment is abnormal so until the council and dean work something out, this is where you'll stay. Those decisions aren't up to me."

I open my mouth to say something.

"Yeah, yeah, I know it sucks. Look, once you get assigned to a house, you'll have a facilitator who'll answer all of your questions, but I don't have time for that. Come on, it's dinner." He takes me by the shoulders and leads me out of the room.

But I don't want to go to dinner. I don't want to go anywhere right now. How could I stomach anything while I'm still digesting the fact that I don't know if my parents are alive, and I'll never know? I may never see them again.