Cabin 5 {Chapter 1}

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"...beep... Beep... BEep... BEEp... BEEP! BEEEP!" I abruptly sat up in bed and my hand slammed down on the off button. A sharp pain flashed up my arm. I winced and looked at my hand. There was a small cut on my palm. Tt was the exact spot I cut my hand a few minutes ago in my dream! I wanted to take a minute to think about the weird dreams I had, but they were already slipping away. I had no choice but to get out of bed and get ready for class. I went through my humdrum daily routine without another thought. Before I knew it, I was at the door to my English class.

I pushed open the door and I was surprised to see everyone already seated in the class, ten minutes early. I took my usual seat all the way at the back of the same old classroom, right next to the window. Mr.Shepard was probably the coolest teacher in my school, since he was the only one who didn't wear bright shades of pink on a daily basis. That might be because he's the only teacher that's a man. He had on a pair of black jeans and a crisp white polo with one of those tiny shirt pockets with a couple of pens sticking out of it.

Something about this school that bugs me are the simple things that they teach. The other kids never seem to know the answers, but I've had these things memorized for years. He asked a few simple questions that nobody could answer, while I gazed out the window. Why should I bother?

"Who can tell me what a Conjunction does?"

He pointed at a girl with her hair in French braids.

"Um... Describes a noun?" She said hesitantly. Mr.Shepard shook his head.

"That's an Adjective. A Conjunction connects words, phrases, and clauses." 

He turned around and started writing practice sentences on the old chalkboard. I covered my ears as it let out a long annoying squeak. I never needed to do any of the practice work, and why should I? I'm seventeen, not seven. I spent the rest of the class staring out the window at the empty soccer field.

Thankfully, Mr.Shepard didn't call me out for not doing any work. It would'nt have been any trouble to answer any of his questions, but I just didn't feel like it. I was about to duck out of the classroom to relieve my boredom, but just as I stood up I heard an amazing noise.

BRRING! All of my boredom is over! At least for now.

"Class dismissed." Said Mr.Shepard. Before he was done talking, I was gone. Soon, I reached my favorite picnic bench in a secluded corner of the campus. It's under a bunch of leafy trees so it's always shady and it feels like a tiny forest. I didn't have to got to my next class for another half hour.

Digging around in my bag, I found my drawing notebook. Its edges were slightly faded from use. It was only about half the size of a normal notebook, but it had twice as many pages. I'd had this book since I was ten, so a lot of the pages were filled by careless doodles and meaningful drawings along with hate poems and teardrops. I pulled out my pencil, opened the book to a random blank page, and started drawing the evil eyes that haunted my dreams last night.

Labo's evil eyes.

I shuddered at the thought of them, glinting maliciously in the dark alley.

I closed my eyes, thinking of every detail in the eyes. I felt my pencil drawing exactly what I was thinking but I didn't dare to double check. When I'm doing quick sketches based on memories, I keep my eyes closed so I can think clearly about what I'm drawing. If my eyes were open I'd be erasing like crazy.


I snapped open my eyes and looked down at what I'd drawn. It looked exactly how I'd remembered, if not more intense. More... evil. I carefully scrawled the date under the picture, shut the book, put it back in my bag, and hurried off, late, to my next class. Science.

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