I

Silence.
Only me and the water dripping off my body after the shower. Still standing with the shower curtain closed, I put my hands against the wall and leaned against them, feeling the weight of the world and the tiredness bearing down on me. Pushing the curtain open and looking to where I step out to, I check the window to see that it’s still dark out.
Good.
At this hour in the morning, it’s still quiet in the place I call home. It’s the kind of not-quite-silence that comes from the emptiness of the morning. Right now I can hear the mixed sounds of my average morning; the sounds of the tenant in the apartment next to mine sleeping, the noise of the lovers’ breathing of contentment after a long night of passion, and, if I strain to listen, a hand full of other students starting their day here. It’s in this Simple Silence that for an instant the world seems no bigger than the insides of our bathroom.
“Fred-er-ic.”
It’s the same voice that I hear every morning; the same female voice which has no face. The voice which has come to be named Agatha, because of it’s meaning of mystery. At this point, I’m sitting at the edge of the bathtub, hanging my head. Lifting my head and pushing my medium brown curls out of my eyes, I start my own day.
I dry myself off and put my boxers back on. Heading over to the mirror above the bathroom sink, I put in my contact lens. Blinking, I cause my eyes to focus and check to see if they are in the correct way. Staring into the mirror, I look but only see the same face I have always seen. The same face that I’ve been looking at for the past sixteen years. The same goddamn face that hasn’t been shave for the past two weeks, causing the hair to grow in heavily on the sideburns and starting to grow into chops, along with a mustache.
“Fred-er-ic.”
And again Agatha calls to me, taunting me with her voice, her sweet voice that always lets me hear but never see.
“Fred-er-ic,” she calls to me in her playfully seductive tone with a touch of light laughter on the end.
Walking across the hall in the apartment to the bedroom, I open the closet on the left to find the rows of uniforms hanging there; the same uniform over and over again. Pulling one out in the dull, early morning light, I examine it; khaki pants, white shirt, red and gold tie and to top it off, a Navy blue blazer with the school emblem on it. “St. Judice’s Private Academy” with the motto “Liberté, Equalité, Fraterité” emblazed in gold against the dark red background with a Navy blue eagle behind the letters, and how I have come to hate this emblem! I have come to hate the symbol of everything that has come to confine me to the things of formality, political correctness, and conformity; the very things that I am not. In every sense, I grudgingly dress in the uniform and gather the books that I’ll need for the day off the desk in the corner. Grabbing the navy blue messenger bag that the school forced me to buy in the uniform deal, I put the books in the bag and leave my bedroom, closing the door behind me. Walking down the hall to the coat rack, I put down my bag and put on my black peacoat. Picking up my bag again and grabbing my key off a nearby table, I walk down the short hall, past the doorway to the kitchen on the left, and leave the apartment the school rented for me.
From here outside my door, I can see all the shit that makes and has made the walls their ugly, dirty greenish color. I imagine that the walls were once a beautiful, bright aqua green color; like the kind that you’d expect to see in a hospital, but that must have been a long time ago. Now the plaster on the walls is falling off and crumbling, exposing the lathes below them, and the paint is almost the greenness of snot and vomit. The hardwood floors are worn down and have chips and dents in whatever the sealant was that was used on them. Moving down the hall and down the stairs leading from the third floor to the lobby, I can see how the walls and floors were destroyed from the all the crumpled cans and broken bottles left behind from long nights of partying. Making my way down to the lobby, look out onto a cold and snowy day. Finally making it down to the lobby, I look into the dirty mirror across from the stairwell doorway as I do everyday and turn left to the door. Opening it, I step out onto the street and into the unending drone of the city and of the rest of my morning.

II

Stepping out into the street, I stop and notice that it has started snowing heavily; snowing in a way that seems to smother the city and clear the streets with its overly large flakes. Goddamn right, I think. Goddamn right that this city should be smothered, and it deserves it for smothering all the lives this city has. Judging by the six inches or so resting on the sidewalk and the rate at which it’s snowing, I estimate that it’s only been snowing for about an hour at most. Better start moving or I’m gunna be late. Turning right, I start heading down the street toward the mid-city on my way to the school. Being only four blocks from campus, the school conveniently placed me well within walking distance and out of their budget for transportation. Walking fast through the winding street, I make it to the old mid-city bridge; one of the oldest, if not the oldest, bridges in the city and approximately half way to campus. Most of the year its arching medieval stonework sides are covered in green moss making it look like a piece of an ancient ruin misplaced in this urban hell, but in the winter it looks like it must have in its own glory days, when it was used for more than just a foot path or an occasional photo opportunity for some tourists or photo-happy wanna-be teen “photographer.”
Pausing just inside the supporting arch, I can see the wind whipping the snow around into mini tornadoes, exposing the slick ice on the other side of the arch. Taking a deep breath, I begin again to move out from the other side of the arch and on my way to school. Moving at a fast pace, I don’t even stop to check if anyone is coming through the intersecting streets, mostly because I know that no one is going to be moving through them and partly because I don’t really care if anyone is coming. With one block between me and the school, I see another person leaning against the wall of a higher class apartment. Dressed, as far as I can see, in a grey trench coat and navy blue beanie hat along with the school uniform bag, she leans away from the wall at the sight of me. Elenor.
“Jesus Christ! What took so long? ” she asks, “I’m freezing my ass off out here.” Standing with her arms crossed and shivering, she gives me a look that says exacting what just came out from between her orange glossed lips.
“Well, what the fuck? If you thought I was running late why didn’t you go on ahead without me?” I say respond to her in the same tone just to mock her, but adding a smile to signify I was joking. Elenor, or Elley as most people call her, and I go back to our freshman year. I met her in the mid-fall when we were both late for a class after our Wednesday afternoon break. We literally ran into each other at the far end of the mid-city bridge arch. At that time I didn’t really know anyone as I had just moved into the apartment before that semester’s start and had mostly kept to myself. Spilling a few books out of our bags, the first thing she said to me was “So you’re the new guy.” At first I didn’t really know what to say other than apologizing for spilling some of her books and making her even more late, but as we picked up our books I noticed that we both had the same textbook. I asked her if she had a certain teacher and she said “Yeah and he’s such a drag,” adding “I’m Elley by the way.” And that’s how I met Elley.
Walking the last block we didn’t say much, mostly because it was freezing and because the wind decided to blow right into our faces. Following the narrow street we came into sight of the main building. Once we were insight of it, we picked up the pace a bit. Only the main building actually looks like a school building. All the other buildings look like apartment buildings or factory buildings with their brick walls and blend into the surrounding buildings. If I didn’t know better I would have thought the lecture halls were apartment buildings. I guess that average people walk pass them everyday and don’t  recognize what’s going on inside the buildings on campus or even that there is a school campus there until they see the main building. The main building is kind of an odd shape for it being in mid-city. Coming through the small street we use everyday, it looks like it’s just a regular rectangular building like any other of the apartment buildings. But as you come out from this side street and on to the main street, the two wings on the sides of the building appear. Apparently they’re supposed to be like welcoming “arms” extended to the new students coming into the building but more often than not they give the impression of claws grabbing on to you and dragging you in. Or at least that’s how I always thought of it. At the front of the building, right it the middle, are a single set of double doors that when coupled with the huge windows of the reception areas above them create the image of the angry, greedy face wanting to consume the lives of all the students that pass through its doors.
Approaching these double doors, I hold one open for Elley. “Thank you” she says with a sweet tone; a tone that I wouldn’t mind to hear every day. But instead of saying you’re welcome I just give her an attempt at a smile. Apparently the wind was so cold that it partially froze my face, making my attempt at a smile painful and only a half smile at best. Still, she smiles back. Making it past the foyer and into the empty lobby, Elley rips off the beanie hat she had been wearing through the cold, allowing her curly bright orange hair to fall down on to the back of her grey trench coat. I swear that once she took off that hat and let her hair fall down on her back, the lights got a little bit brighter and exposed all the different hues and depths of orange.
Despite seeing all the life and vibrancy that her bright orange hair brings to the room, I still say with grimace “Welcome to another day in the life of Hell under florescent lighting.”
She giggles a bit at my dark humor and responds “Ain’t that the truth” and we go our separate ways, knowing that we’ll see each other at mid-day. Turning left to go down the hall, I stop at the corner and turn around to watch Elley walk down the hall before she melts into the crowd of other students rushing to one of their morning classes. By now she had taken off her trench coat and I could see the uniform she was wearing; navy blue women’s blazer most likely with a white blouse underneath, navy blue skirt that stopped just above the knee with knee high socks going the rest of the way down to her black shoes. Just before she joined the mindless crowd in the hall, I caught a last glimpse of her orange curls glowing against the back of her blazer. Turning around and going around the corner, I start down the empty hall and into the wing that hardly anyone wants to be in this early in the morning; the language wing.