As Victoria traversed through the hallways, she knew where she was supposed to go, though she couldn’t find a level of stairs to climb in a twisting labyrinth of concrete and cemented bricks. She once came across some unique landmarks, such as a lounge area, holding odd oily paintings upon its transparent, glassy walls. She also saw the entrance of the building , but from behind, and noticed a square, orange door, opening into a ‘store’, as an attached sign above the door proclaimed. She then walked further, ignoring the seemingly repeating routes she was taking, into a large hallway holding banners spouting buzzwords like ‘resilience’ and ‘empathy’. What pooey. She continued calmly sauntering through more doorways, before ending up in the rooms of the lockers again. I had gone in a circle?
Before Victoria could question herself anymore, she saw a new pathway, leading to the edge of the school, whose walls were glass panels. She entered and noticed more portraits storing pixel art and even more inspirational quotes and texts. She then began to jog past an exceptionally long hallway, which gave the impression of being as long as the width of the main building. As she went past large rooms containing computers, not unlike her class she just had, she began wondering why there were so many art pieces stored in the building, considering the school consisted of 4 buildings, including one explicitly named the ‘Art Building’, why weren’t they there instead? Either way, as she turned a corner, she finally saw a flight of stairs extending to the second floor, and possibly third, as well. She climbed, and climbed, until she saw the bridge to the Peace Building, a building dedicated to the art of mediation, or about that much. She couldn’t remember much from orientation, maybe due to her not having a parent chaperone to come and hold some of her belongings so she could take better notes of the school. Or maybe because she couldn’t remember the building ever being here at all.
Crossing the glassy bridge, Victoria saw the streets below, black as night, with small cars crossing by and the autumn leaves laying on the sidewalks, shining with a collection of burning reds and yellows. The trees were dead and charred, their wispy branches cracking in the rays beating down from space. A green, lush grassfield, hidden from leaves, stood out amongst the decaying vegetation that surrounded it. As she walked towards the Peace Building, she noticed it had a second and third floor, but lacked a first floor; it was held up by large monoliths, connected to the building and floor. The first ‘floor’ of the building didn’t seem to be empty, and the boundaries between school and the outside were clearly defined with a change in material from the rest of the road.
After admiring the scenery, she began to pace towards her designated classroom, and met face to face with the steely door frame of her temporary abode. Instead of a door, a purple, silky curtain covered the entrance instead, beckoning excited newcomers into its foggy chamber, seemingly supplied by a large fog machine. Above the door, were a set of feathery dream catchers, splaying their odd attachments, not unlike rope, towards the ground.
As Victoria entered, she sneezed from passing directly under one of the woven wheels, and people looked towards her a sudden interest, which quickly dissipated as they cured their boredom through use of screens. She was not surprised a majority of the people were inside already; she was rather late in her escapades. As she walked over to an empty seat, a haunting voice was summoned from the front of the room.
“Hello, may I ask what’s your name?”
Victoria turned to face an ebony table, covered with stacks of faded books, a pencil holder, though the pencils didn’t seem quite normal; they were crooked and misshapen, stacks of velvet cards, and a gentrified computer, which looked deeply out of place. On a high chair, sat a prehistoric man, his skin clinging to his bones, and with white, swirling hair similar to a soft serve. He wore a rather colorful shawl, with a deep fuchsia dress spiraling down toward his feet, which were encased in a pair of sanded sandals.
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“My name is, uh, Victoria!” replied Victoria, who was looking at awe in the strange beauty of his accessories. As a couple new people came in, she quickly grabbed a seat next to a person she recognized from her first class; the tall blonde. Victoria decided to nudge her as she was staring intently into her phone, perhaps to introduce herself to new people for more acquaintances.
“Hey, do I know you?” asked the person, who was clearly confused at Victoria’s handsy actions.
“Uh, s-sorta?,” Victoria stammered, “We were in the same class last period.”
“Oh um, oh wait! I know who you are! You are that naturally red headed person!” Victoria wished they wouldn’t keep pointing that out, even if it was an abnormality.
“Uh, yeah, my name is Victoria, and what’s yours?”
“My name is kinda weird, too . . .”
“Well, if you can point out something as weird as my hair, why can’t you do the same for your name?”
“Oh, fine, my name is Anterior.” She wasn’t wrong, I guess.
“Uh, do you have an explanation for that, or-”
“Well, my full name is Anterior Cerebral Artery, which sounds even more bizarre.”
“Don’t talk down about yourself like that, or you have low self-esteem,” hypocritically retorted Victoria.
“Well, my family life isn’t the greatest . . .”
“Do you want to get into it?” asked Victoria, in a softer tone than she’d usually use. “Or no? That’s fine, too, if you don’t want to share. I’ve got a few skeletons in my closet, too.”
“You do? If you don’t mind sharing, I’d be happy to listen.”
“It’s not my favorite topic, but here it goes: my parents are kinda deadbeat; both of them.”
“That’s kinda like my dad,” interrupted Anterior, though Victoria didn’t mind.
“Uh, why’s that?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“That’s cool with me, can I keep sharing?”
“Sure.”
“Ok, so my, ugh, parents a-are-,” Victoria couldn’t continue much longer, as she felt it was becoming rather awkward, for both parties. Just as she was planning to think of a quick way to diffuse and change courses for the topic, which was awfully personal for an introduction, the bell rang. People began to pack up in droves, and not unexpectedly, a mass exodus of students happened, pushing the heavy mist towards slower students. Victoria and Anterior were certainly one of them. As more smoke piled up around their nostrils, they began to cough, coughing out more of the misty air, as though the air inside them had been replaced with a vapory mixture. Victoria wondered how the gas, or any other items found inside this decrepit classroom, were allowed in a setting such as this. She pondered it for a few more seconds, but all she felt was becoming more drowsy; weaker in the knees.
Victoria and Anterior agreed the best course of action was to simply leave as fast as possible, and thus they did, speed walking out of the classroom, creaking its crooked, wooden floorboards, as they left. Once they were out, they coughed out more gaseous material, and their senses returned to normal. After this, they parted ways, as they headed to their next class. As she turned away from Anterior to begin her descent down the Peace Building stairs, she noticed two people, one deeply familiar and another which had caught her attention in the first class. It was James and the small boy who had the eyes of the teacher who had taught that class. They held each other’s hands, and stared into each other with a fierce passion; of intimacy. Before Victoria could report these findings to Amalya using her number, she realized her phone had run out of batteries. It was time to dash.