Bells ring out, and conditioned by pavlovian response the students stand up. Groups of three or four bodies start walking along side each other. No one groups beside him, nor does he group to anyone else. He pays this no mind, as this is how it is more often than not.
He passes through the door turning into a hall filled with the warm bodies filled with minds to preoccupied too bother with his presence. He walks takes a left, then a right. Without thinking he walks this path as he has days before and will days after. He turns into a hall. He has seen this hall many times before, but somehow it always makes him stop and take note. To most people it would seam a normal hall. Sure the paint on the wall was flaking to reveal years of previous repair, and the noxious chemicals they would have used in the year prior. The light above was about a hundred watts too underpowered for this hallway, and with only one light there were plenty of shadows. There was also the water fountain, with its lukewarm water that tasted of metal tinged disappointment. He was not fond of this hallway.
He walks and takes the second right he need to take to get to his classroom. Head hung low in a matter of least effort. he walked on.
He walks takes a left, then a right. Without thinking he walks this path as he has days before and will days after. He turns into a hall. He has seen this hall many times before, but somehow it always makes him stop and take note. To most people it would seam a normal hall. Sure the paint on the wall was flaking to reveal years of previous repair, and the noxious chemicals they would have used in the year prior. The light above was about a hundred watts too underpowered for this hallway, and with only one light there were plenty of shadows. There was also the water fountain, with its lukewarm water that tasted of metal tinged disappointment. He was not fond of this hallway.
He furrows his brow. The thought crosses his mind that if he does not hurry he may arrive late. He looks up and notes that he just needs to take the second right. He quickens his pace to a brisk walk.
He walks takes a left, then a right. Without thinking he walks this path as he has days before and will days after. He turns into a hall. He has seen this hall many times before, but somehow it had not changed. The walls, the paint, the fountain, they were all the same. But that could not be. He walks forward to his destination, shaking off the feeling at deja vu. He takes a right. And there before him was the same hallway, shadows and all. Then the bell for class to began to ring.
It has been several days’ since he came into the hallway. The bell keeps ringing; at first he feels to taunt him. After the second day he realizes that the bell cares not for him. He has lost count how many times it has rung. Time keeps moving forward, no matter how much space has looped in on itself.
At first he thought he could retrace his steps. That plan came up dry however, as it just kept looping. He has walked for hours endlessly looping hoping that he could find a way home. He saw no one else. He heard no one else. It was complete and utter silence, save for the bell.
So he talked. Endlessly. Sometimes he just counted, other times he retold movies he loved. But there was always a shaking in his voice. He hoped someone would hear him. No one ever came. Sometimes he would hear what he would think were footsteps, but it was just his own beating heart.
Some time later he dropped his backpack near the fountain, hoping that this could show him something. That the hall was not an endless loop just a hallway that looked like it. He had a spark in him again. As he inched away from the fountain he hoped and dreaded what would be around the corner. He tuned. He saw his backpack. It was a loop. He had no way out.
Again some time later he was starving. He still had water available to him. So he drank at times forgetting the offsetting taste. He was losing energy. Options dwindling he took out the blade from his cheap dollar store pencil sharpener. It’s been a thought he had entertained. He brought it to his wrist. It dropped dry. He laid there and slept
Not many people took notice when he disappeared that day. Not out of malice no, more a feeling of disconnect from him. No one thought much of the fact that he did not show up the rest of the day. Later when he did not come home, he was announced missing. The town looked for him, but there were no leads. Many a student came and helped, a pang of guilt for not paying action to their fellow man. Eventually he was pronounced dead. Life went on. But no student goes through that hallway anymore, tickles in the back of their skulls warning them to stay away. They wouldn’t want to any way, because the water fountain stunk of death.
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