>>5774957Trudging your feet along the way to school, a part of you just doesn’t wanna go back. Reflex mostly. Think about the stuff you left behind and could still be there. Dismissal wasn’t long ago, so soon enough, you were going past the trickling stream of students going home. The hard part you were worried about was entering the premises without a Student ID. That was in your wallet, which if it's still around, would be lost and found at the main office, or just laying around the club room. Arriving at the gates, you loiter around for an opportunity. It should just be as simple as walking right in, just like that but not wanting to take the off chance someone cares enough to check ID it felt better to just be safer than sorry.
A group was hauling in boxes for some project, the details of which you really didn’t care for. Your help was appreciated and more importantly, wasn’t questioned so you were inside after finishing your share of lifting. First thing you stopped by was the club room. What did you expect? Well, for one the club is entirely dysfunctional. Penned as a Photography Club, the only thing ever done inside was jack and squat. Nobody else ever seemed to attend, and the club room was a glorified closet. Other names were listed as members, but without a physical appearance, you couldn’t be bothered to remember who they were. Oh well for them. The club room became your personal retreat whenever you were at school.
You walk down the club hallway. Most of these rooms are assigned for those purposes and post dismissal is the time when they’ll be sure to be occupied. Bustling sounds of meetings and student conversation show this was just a normal day, no drama or anything. Facing the door to the Photography Club, your thoughts can be summed up as the following. Does nobody seem to care that you were gone?
Inside, the room wasn’t how it was yesterday or any day before then. It’s actually being used as intended. Shelves filled, trinkets strewed about and nothing to indicate that this was where you were presumably backstabbed. You check around to see if your bag or anything belonging to you was set aside and by that, you check the cabinet supporting one of the bookshelves. It’s unlocked, it's big and it's empty. Gonna look elsewhere. Before you were able to think about anything so far, the sounds of footsteps alerted you to someone approaching this very room. Instinct kicked in, making you unduly uneasy. Just leave is what it’s getting at… But why?
>Go out the door before they arrive. Play it off and they might not bother to ask what you were doing>Jump out the window. You’ll live. Only the second story.>Stay. What are you so scared of anyways? Authority?>Write-In. 