Never again. That's what I told myself last time.
I don't want to look around me, but I need a distraction. The room is small, like before- the walls an ugly shade of rotten egg. Almost smells like one too. Across from me sits another girl, her foot unsuccessfully trying to tap to an imaginary beat.
A lone clock adorns the wall; the arm is stuck, as if irritated by an itch it can't scratch away. God.. I know how it feels. We are all stuck in this room. I want to hide, or evaporate into the air if possible. My eyes move to the fluttering fluorescent light in the ceiling. Does everything in this room have to seem agitated?
A stray wisp of red hair falls into my face. I tuck it nervously behind my ear. The thoughts inside won't be tamed as easily. If only I had taken the...
A door slams. Startled, I turn my head, as the sound of slow, heavy footsteps reach my ears. I look into the dark corner where the sound reveals its true self. A small form, a woman with a wrinkled, blood orange uniform, steps into the once shadowed hallway.
"Menet. Joelle Menet." The receptionist drones, sounding less excited than I was to be there. Her tight face scans the room. All four eyes are on me. Of course it's me. I'm the only other one in this hell hole. Nervously, I fake a smile. I swallow hard, like an egg is now stuck in my throat.
Rising, I shake a little, unsteady in a place my feet were promised to never go again. "Here."
Following the blur of orange, I walk quickly past the clock, it's wiry hand steadily accusing me.