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Wednesday 21st October — At around 9.00am I was awoken screeching sound of the fire alarm. I felt no panic, I even covered by head with my duvet hoping it would cease momentarily (the previous day it did blare only for a moment), however the agonising noise would not stop. I could hear the doors of my neighbours opening and closing—clearly people were treating it more soberly than me. I struggle to remember the events in my room; my sensitive hearing made action without covering my ears in the tiny room excruciating. Even now in the evening my ears feel strange and adverse to noise—I most definitely suffered some hearing loss. I would grab clothing and rush into the bathroom where the sound was less extreme, and dress there. The sound was disorientating and my urgency to leave the room was for no fear of fire but to escape the blasted alarm; I checked the inside of my wardrobe door and read where to assemble, “Lecture Theatre D”.
Upon exiting my room I was met with three or even four security guards, perhaps they knew I was of the few, if only, student absent from the congregation outside. They yelled at me to leave and to escape the building; I fled down the stairs with my hands over my ears (a little before leaving my room the fire alarm in the halls went off) and I moved past a fireman carrying something—informing me this was more than some annoying drill.
[...]
I joined the group under the tree, although it only caused the light rain to build in large droplets, making it more jolting than simply standing in the open. A portly girl and a short boy were conversing and decided to ask them if they knew what was going on—I even informed them of my newness.
“Dunno,” the girl told me.
“No idea,” the boy said while stretching his arms on the branch above.
My attempt to converse fell flat and I stood there checking my emails until we were allowed back inside.
