I walked up one of the central aisles in the auditorium* and stopped at an empty seat to ask if the person next to it was waiting for someone. “No” they replied. But right as I was about to sit down they said that someone was coming. “Is there?” I asked for confirmation. They told me that there indeed was so I went off to find another seat.
It was the beginning of the academic year and a group of counselors were talking to some students in the room. “There isn’t anything in the world that no one should ever watch” challenged a student. I linked him a YouTube video through Skype with the comment: “I didn’t even watch this” at which he took back his words. There were papers on the bed as well as glitter sprinkled all over the bedsheets.
We were inside a smooth, white hallway when a crowd of people were running in asking us questions. They seemed to be challenging our math skills, asking us to graph various equations on the wall using the colored blocks. I sat down as I began constructing a tent made out of magazines and one of the advertisements on the page in front of me was a “One Step Abstinence” program that parents could enroll their children in. Someone next to me said how they used skewed mosquito population data in order to conclude that sexual activity induced infertility.
We were watching old clips of an animator that ended up working for Valve. While watching some of their older clips, we told each other that we would probably never see it being completed. It was a fight scene that was a work in progress that was later abandoned.
I was walking through the school gymnasium in an attempt to find my class that was located in the exercise room. I looked at the bags that lay beside the wall and noticed that I was in an area that was off-limits to older students. I quickly made my way across the division before I was told to get out.
We were sitting at the restaurant table and about to start eating dinner when my mother reminded my brother to call my cousin. For some reason we kept referring to my cousin as “Russia” for that was where he was at the moment. My brother called a few times but no one ever picked up the phone. We were unable to tell if he had ever seen the text messages we had sent.
The paper dispenser in the public restroom was out of paper towels.
It was about 4 in the morning of July 7th. I had after hours access to the library and ran through the stacks of books looking for somewhere to sleep. When I accidentally wound up outside of the library, I noticed that there was still a large number of people milling about in a rather festive mood. The lighting was rather green and I asked what was going on. “Well, it’s only been two days since the fourth” someone reasoned. I met up with some old friends who said they were visiting as the fireworks started going off.
As I walked into the room, I asked the person next to me what I had missed for I was really tired the previous class. I got no response. I sat down in the front row of the classroom as everyone was handed out a piece of paper. On the upper half of the paper, a box was drawn and above it the directions: “What are some things you can do to help someone who is feeling suicidal?” My mind was hazy so I scribbled some words within the box without any particular form or order. I was writing using different color pencils and even started stitching messages onto bits of cloth to put into the printed rectangle.
Our Internet connection was suddenly cut off and we couldn’t figure out the reason why. We looked at the router and my dad said, “whatever we do, we are not selling that. That’s exactly what they’re trying to make us do.” I looked at the phone number printed on the sticker on the underside: 77-22. When I took out my phone, I got a “CMC Emergency Message” pop up in red. I called the number and when it was picked up, all I got in response was an, “ei. ei. ei.”