When I got back to my room I closed my door, and leant against it. I took a deep breath. God, why couldn’t I just control myself?
I sunk down to the ground, and wrapped my arms around myself. I closed my eyes, and bowed my head. I took more deep breaths to calm myself down. I opened my eyes to, and lifted my head. At least they wouldn’t mess with me.
I stood up, and walked over to the bathroom. I needed to wash out my split knuckles. I took a look at them. The knuckles were fully split, and bleeding. I was lucky that I hadn’t left a blood trail to my room.
I walk over to the sink, and started washing. I didn’t want to get an infection. It’s happened before, and I didn’t want a repeat. I could barely use my hands for a whole week.
I thoroughly washed out my knuckles. I didn’t wince even though it stung a bit. I had done this to many times before.
I heard the door opposite mine open, and close. Storm. I waited until he initiated conversation. I wasn’t in the mood to talk, so if he wanted to talk he would.
He leaned against the counter, “What were you thinking? Talking to the Council like that?”
I stopped washing, and braced my hands on the sink. I couldn’t deal with this right now. I turned off the water, and turned to leave. Storm reached out to stop me.
“Don’t even think about it,” I snapped.
He slowly retracted his hand, “You need to show more respect your higher ups. Also, Iris said to meet her at her room.”
I walked out of the bathroom, and made my way to Iris’s room. I was extremely excited that my stuff was here. I finally had a bit of home here in this unfamiliar place.
I knocked, and Iris immediately opened the door. She looked surprised that it was me.
“Oh, Blaze,” she said. She looked a bit disheveled. “I didn’t know you would get here so soon.” She looked behind her, panic flitting across her face. “Um, the guards are downstairs at the main entrance. They need help bringing up your, multiple, bookshelves. Think you could do that?”
“Yeah, I’ll head down there now.”
She nods, and hurriedly closes her door. Okay then.
I turned around, and made my way downstairs to the main entrance. When I did get there, for the second time today, I saw piles of boxes, bags and bookshelves. I saw plenty of guards surrounding it. One of them saw me.
“You must be Blaze,” they said. “Where do you want this stuff?”
“Don’t worry,” I started, “You can enjoy your day. I can do this myself.”
He looked at me doubtfully, so I walked over to one of the bookshelves and picked it up. Most of the guards stopped and stared, “Enjoy your day guys I can do this myself!”
They all turned to leave, casting shocked looks behind them. I just started walking back to my room, bookshelf in hand.
I lugged things to my room all day. The majority of it was books, but I also had some clothes, and sports gear.
Once I had my last box in my room, it had taken hours to get to this point, I was sweating, and happy that I had all my stuff here. I had my comfortable clothes, my thousands of books, my school supplies, and my sports gear.
Once all my stuff was in my room I started organizing. My bookshelves were all over the place, and my sports gear was also scattered around the room. I would probably organize my clothes, and sports gear in my closet. But I had to find a way to fit all my bookshelves into my room.
I started sorting. I liked to organize. It helped me calm down sometimes.
My sports gear, and clothes were organized by item of clothing in the closet. My books were sorted by personal value, and series. So, for example, I would place my favourite book first, or series.
When I was halfway through that I heard someone enter my room. I just continued to sort, “Who is it?”
“Me,” Camden said.
I turned around, “Oh, hey. What are you doing here?”
He looked amused, “I just wanted to see how you were doing with moving in to your room. Looks like you’re doing fine though.”
“Yeah,” I said, “I’m used to doing things for myself, and by myself. When I asked for my first bookshelf my adopted parents paid for it, but I had to move it into my room myself. I had to do most things by myself. Also, I had a really extreme training regime when I was back home. I wanted to go into MMA fighting.”
I went back to sorting. He said, “I just wanted to see how you were doing. So, are you really that good at fighting?”
“Yeah, I was asked to join when I was 16, but I wanted to finish school before I went to fight professionally.”
“And you really love books, don’t you?”
“I got into them when I was in middle school. I wasn’t very good at making friends, so I found other things to occupy my time. Fighting, soccer, swimming, and reading. Also school. I am naturally intelligent, so I didn’t have to work very hard. It was still hard work keeping up with all I did though.”
“Cool. I also wanted to ask how you got that scar on your neck. It looks pretty badass.”
“Why?” I asked, skeptical. I didn’t like to tell anyone about my past.
“I just want to know more about you,” he said, “because you don’t let me, or anyone else, know about your life before you came here.”
“I didn’t have the greatest life by any means. And I was bullied. One day one of the bitches that were bullying me decided one day that she would try to get into a fight with me. The scratch was all she got. I almost killed her, and all her friends. If you could call them that.”
“Really?” he asked. “You were bullied? You don’t seem like the kind of person to be bullied.”
“I was the quiet type until grade ten, sophomore year. I snapped, and that’s what happened.”
I put in the last book, and turned around. I glanced at the time. It was almost dinner time, “Hey, let’s head down to the dining hall. I want to get to the food first.”
He nodded, “I just need to call Storm and Iris before we head down.”
“Ok. I’ll wait for you at the bottom of the stairs.”
He nodded, and headed out. I started to walk out, but first I looked back. I smiled a bit. I had a small piece of home.
Then I turned around, closed my door, and prepared myself for another awkward dinner.