The Lost Duckling

Three: Boo

It was still raining when Mary got to her dorm. She had, of course, forgotten to bring a umbrella. Her slightly waterproof windbreaker was draped over the sketchbooks filling her bags, and the small suitcase she dragged behind her was soaked through. All of its contents were undoubtably a part of a sort of water-clothes soup, and Mary silently hoped that their colors wouldn't have bled through by the time she was able to dry them off.

Mary fumbled to get her keycard to the building's scanner. She had to mess with the stupid thing for a good five minutes before the door allowed her entrance into the place where she would live just about every day for the next four years.The lobby was painted a slate gray, smelled faintly of AXE body spray, and decorated by a big stylized emblem, the logo for Dyur Art Academy.

Mary hiked up three flights of stairs, leaving a puddle behind her as she went.

Her room was bare. Two twin beds with sheets folded at the foot of each sat on either side of a window-seat that lifted up to reveal a storage container just big enough to store textbooks. Up against the opposite wall of the beds was a closet that spanned from corner to corner and seemed to have come from an IKEA set. It was dark brown. The floor was comprised of slightly peeling linoleum that looked grimy and was covered in unidentifiable stains. Mary decided that as soon as her roommate could agree, they were scrubbing the whole place from top to bottom. She just needed to find the supplies.

Mary sat on the window seat, hesitant to choose a bed before her roommate had a say in the matter. She folded up her windbreaker inside out to prevent water from getting anywhere and placed it on her lap. She decided that if her roommate wasn't there in a few hours she would begin to unpack. School started in two days; surely her roommate must be as eager to scope out the campus as Mary herself was.

As she thought about the long drive here and how expensive the parking garage was even with a student discount, Mary's subconscious was reminiscing over her childhood days when she wasn't obsessing over a hectic schedule. She was able to draw in peace then, never worrying about the angles of shadows or the three dimensional attributes of furniture as light from a certain source touched their surfaces. Mary was happier then, when art as her hobby.

Now, Mary wasn't really sure what her art was anymore.

She had been offered a scholarship to Dyur for her depictions of monsters. It was a topic that she drew frequently as a child, and then even into her late teens, creating comic strips and whatnot. At Dyur, she was majoring in Illustration and getting a minor in classic painting. She had always had a knack for good old-fashioned oils, and it was her favorite medium, aside from the way they smelled and how long it took for different layers of paint to dry. However, the only way she was able to convince her parents to allow her to pursue art was by winning the scholarship, which meant she needed to major in Illustration because that was what she had won the scholarship for in the first place. They were, apparently, very interested in her rather cartoonish depictions of monsters, which had shocked Mary into thinking that their letters of inquiry about her work were a cruel joke played on her by her peers. She started believing the letters were real when a scout for the university showed up to her house.

Now, a few months later, Mary was sitting dripping wet in an unfamiliar dorm room, uncertain if leaving San Francisco was worth it.

Dyur was halfway between San Francisco and Los Angeles, which meant that it rivaled Cal Arts. Dyur was easier to get into, and because they had offered Mary a scholarship, the choice was already made for her. At least she didn't have to pay out of state tuition.

The rain had stopped a little, but the humidity that lingered was practically palpable, even after Mary hopped off the window seat and propped open her dorm room door in an attempt to bring fresh air into the room. It had been about an hour since she had arrived, and was therfor, mostly dry, although her ponytails were still damp.

Mary decided to claim the bed on the right of the window seat, resolving to switch later if her roomate so decided. She sat on the corner along with the folded sheets, making a mental shopping list for herselft. She had already brought a cheap pair of sheets and a comforter before making the commute, so her bedding was taken care of, but considering all the other items she'd need to buy, it was hardly something to celebrate.

Her phone was about to die, so Mary decided to take advantage of the outlet on the wall next to her bed. The other bed had one as well. She plugged in her tattered charger, making a mental note to pick up a new one soon, and watched as her phone turned on, flashing the time on its slightly cracked screen. 1:13 PM.

It was going to be a long first day.