High School

The red bricks, stacked on top of each other, distract me from realizing where I am going. Looking out the window, the tired teens sigh as the bus advances towards the building. Other large, yellow buses also approach the uneven sidewalk, which leads to the school. Finally exiting the tightly-packed bus, the exhausted teens walk slowly off the bus and onto the sidewalk. Walking within the crowd, each step I take becomes one step closer to the closed doors. These doors are the Gates of Hell. Once you enter, you cannot leave (until 2:14 PM). Inside, at a glance, everything appears to be white. Like a dirty white, or beige. Beige walls, with tape stuck in the crevasses of the bricks to hold up colorful and motivational posters, line the inside. The crowd advances at a slow pace like cars stuck in traffic. The smell of Axe rapidly fills my lungs. Suddenly, more and more brown doors start to appear on the beige walls. New hallways create an intersection. The tiles of the floor look like a heterogeneous mixture of tan, white, and black materials. A glass showcase, displaying the artistic abilities of many students, forms a five second art show. Even further, there’s “Main Street”. Composed of mainly lockers, this is the prime and busiest hallway in the building. Wandering around, I attempt to understand the confusing setup. Clenching onto my florescent orange paper, I discover new hallways branching off of Main Street. Hallways labeled “G Hall East”, “G Hall West”, “F Hall East”, “F Hall West” on wood with white, engraved letters. More brown doors are in these hallways. Each door leads to a different destination, yet each destination looks similar. The same heterogeneous mixture for tiles, the same beige brick walls, the same white boards, the same desks. Regressing to Main Street, I, and other baffled teenagers look like lost puppies as we continue to explore.