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The Middle Room

By Melancholic Pen All Rights Reserved ©

Mystery

Chapter 1

My school has these creepy looking RC's on the third floor and sometimes it really makes me wonder what's going on in there. It's a bunch of rooms separated from the main hallway and you'd need to walk through a set of narrow corridors to get to those classrooms. There are normal classes that goes on in there throughout the day and it's pretty noisy too. After the classes are over and the teachers leave is when it's uncomfortably silent. The classrooms are dark; the corridor has those creepy white tube lights they show in horror movies.

Most RC's in my school building are this open wide space with rooms around it. This one had another room built in the middle. No one could tell what it was used for or why was it even there. There were two doors on both sides of the room, both which faced the narrow corridor away from the main hallway. I always had the vibe that that's where all the 'bad' kids went; it was probably because the tiny windows on the door was covered with paper. With the amount of strict rules and regulations my school have, it was a frighteningly realistic idea in my mind.

No one else seemed to think too much of it though. They were too busy with their classes, after school activity, or the recent hike of prices in the drug business - it's a real science, you know? They should have an AP course on it.

Sure, I was one of the busy bees too, but I believe everyone has that one thought that they push to the side, tries not to think of it as much. The thought of the room was one of those 'thoughts'. What went on in there? Rape? Orgy? Murder? Torture on those poor students into submission? I had quite an imagination.

The smell of recently waxed floor and bleach assaulted my nose as I walked into the corridor. Someone put way too much effort in this compared to what their paycheck is worth. I looked to the left. The smart board was left on, what a waste of energy. Well at least they bothered to turn off the lights. I peeked into the corner rooms. No one there. Suddenly Danielle called me from the other side of the middle room. I walked. I realized you could take a peek into the room from the other door. How could I not notice? This door window was not fully covered with paper.

There was an old fashioned computer on top of a desk covered with papers. I mean, it was very old - with a box like monitor and all. My eyes yearned to see the rest of the room, but there was a partition in the middle that blocked the view. There were green sets of lockers in the back and a few desks nearer to the door we were looking through. It wasn't enough. I wanted to see more. I came prepared to break the lock but that's when Danielle stopped me. She produced a key from her pocket and smiled at me. "You're forgetting a lot of the rooms here could be opened by the same key." She must've stolen this key from robotics.I guess she was just as curious as I.

The door opened easily and we walked in, inspecting everything that was before us. After all, how many opportunities do you get to explore a room which haven't been touched by humans for 30 years?

Papers. Lots and lots of paper. Piles of them were on the desks and others were on top of the lockers. A few of them were on the dusty floor. They were mostly school stuff; worksheets, to be more precise. Chemistry, Biology, Algebra all sorts of worksheets were there.

We peeked around the partition that extended right to the middle of the room. This part of the room was darker because of the shadow. There was one desk in the corner - piled with paper as expected. Now I decided to take a look at the papers. Danielle's attention went to the lockers. I heard the rusty drawers behind me make a unbearable noise as I took one of the paper and began to read it. It was a student’s handwriting; I could tell because it was a complaint from a girl about a guy who has been bothering her in class. I could feel how she felt. I remembered I had to do the same thing last year. It’s a sad place for those who are mature and well-behaved.

“I think this was a detention room or something,” Danielle said browsing through the files, “There are records of all sorts of hooligans in here… Here’s one about this guy who set the trash can on fire in the boy’s bathroom.” I chuckled, “What year was it?”

“1987,” she replied.

“No wonder we aren’t allowed to have nice things anymore… what were the consequences?”

Danielle smiled wider as she read the document, “He had to spend his entire spring vacation in this room.” I looked at the lone desk in the corner. “Must’ve been torturous. Back then they really knew how to punish someone,” I replied, “Suspension is just coddling.”

“I agree. You just go home and relax for a couple of days after almost setting the building on fire.”

“Well, when I come to think of it, in the present days the school would’ve called the cops. The kid would get his whole childhood ruined. You know how the DOE is paranoid about their students. I really doubt whether the 0 tolerance policy actually works.”

“Now you kinda make me wish they’d bring detention back…”

“...even if you have to spend the entire vacation in this closed room,” I finished the sentence.

There was a moment of silence before I showed her the paper I was reading, “I think this was a dean’s office… Hey, I wonder if the computer still works!”

“Yes!” she agreed enthusiastically. it took us a while to figure out the wires and connect them. I tried to turn it on. It took forever. And when the screen did light up, it showed us the blue screen. The computer crashed. As much we loved technology, we didn’t have the time, nor knowledge to fix this antique piece.

We heard footsteps outside. It was as I’ve stopped breathing. It was the security patrolling the main hallway. Surprisingly we didn’t get caught. I looked at Danielle. This should be a secret. We could come here during an emergency. We could hide something in here.

Secret rooms are fun.

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