Outside the Lines

Chapter Three

The warning room. The warning room. The warning room. The phrase rips through my mind, tearing away at its seams, pushing its way deep inside. In all of the years I have been here, in all of the years I have been confined here, not one person has ever been sent to the warning room.

See, the warning room has only ever been a myth, a scare tactic, a figment of the imagination. It leers off in the distance, only getting close enough to taunt and fill you with fear. The warning room is a boundary of sorts, keeping everyone in line; until now. 

There are hushed whispers all around me, and I catch bits and pieces of conversations. 

"I bet he's going to die."

"Maybe they'll feed him to sharks."

"What if they put him into Rejects."

"He's already going to be in the Rejects!"

I can't do this. I can't take this anymore. "Shut up! Shut. Up. Stop talking about Thirty and get a life other than following the instructor's orders!." 

A hush falls over the room again, and my classmates stare at me. Wide eyed and petrified they wait in silence for the instructor to return. 

Seconds pass. Minutes pass. After what seems like an eternity, the instructor returns- without Thirty.  Our class stands at attention position, and nobody dares to talk out. 

"As you all know, your dear classmate Thirty has acted out. This reflects upon all of you, and all of you deserve some amount of punishment. As a result of this incident, you all are to return to your dorms immediately. There will be no supper or evening activities. You are all expected to stay in your dorms, and reflect upon your actions. Thirty will be returning to you in the evening." 

Later that night, I sit in my dorm while waiting for Thirty to return. I dorm with twenty other girls, so there are twenty-one of us total. The dorm is long and narrow, with just enough room for beds to be across from each other. As a privilege for the girls being well behaved, we get to choose our beds. I chose the one on the very end, the one that is separated from all others, due to the odd number of girls.

The bed I have gives me a perfect view of the classroom outside, shown only from a small window on the door. I've been watching the window for the past three hours so I can see when Thirty returns.

Resting my eyes from the same position they've been in for ages, I take a look at the other girls. Some are sleeping, some are crying, others are just staring off into the distance. I know their names, but I don't really pay attention to them. They're not worth my time. I can tell I'm different.

We'll probably have to change our beds back into numerical order after this fiasco. 

Sighing, I look around at my surroundings. An endless sea of dull grey fills my view. You'd think that they'd have a little color around here, like our uniforms, or the paintings in our school books. Literally almost anything would be better than this depressing shade of grey. 

I'm trying to keep my mind off of Thirty, but it's not working. Anxiety bubbles in the pit of my stomach, pulling me down and trying to get me to panic. I will not relent, I will not let fear take reign of my thoughts. 

The thing is, I care about him so much. I care about his thoughts, his feelings. If there's anything about him, I care. I don't know if he sees it, but I hope to whatever's out there that he feels the same way about me. If Thirty were to die, or even get seriously injured, I don't know what I would do. I can't let this get the best of me though. After all, he's got it worse.

I often wonder what's on the outside, or what life is.  I can't help but think that this system is ridiculous, and sucking the happiness out of anything that gets put in here. I also wonder what would happen if I decided to break out of the compound. Back when I thought of this before, I was way too young to pass off as twenty. Now however, I could easily pass.

With that thought I end up dozing off, and wake up a while later. Starting to panic, I look at the time on the wall. 5:42, still time before Thirty arrives. I assume by 'evening', the instructor meant anywhere between six or seven. Staring off into space a little longer, I finally hear footsteps coming from the classroom. Heads of the other girls whip around to stare out the window. Thirty-six whispers to Nineteen. I rush past them all, and press my face against the cool glass, fogging up the window. 

A silhouette of a tall, dark haired, lanky teenager that I instantly recognize as Thirty shuffles across the room. I knock on the door softly, alerting his attention to me. He looks up at me, and I recoil in shock. It's not that he's physically injured- no.

It's his eyes. His eyes tell of pain, fear, and everything in between. There is no mistaking this. From the way he's walking and the way he's standing I know nothing physical happened, but I can definitely tell they messed with his mind.

There were legends and stories of this, of people going insane from the warning room. I didn't believe them, I didn't believe anyone would ever land themselves in that situation anyways.

I need to talk to him, and comfort him.I need to be there for Thirty but we aren't allowed to leave our dorms and they're locked from the inside.

Thirty presses his hand against the glass and nods solemnly at me.

"I'll be okay"  he mouths. I see him make his way down the hall to his dorm, hanging his head in shame.  

I want to kill whoever did this to him.