Then
The hallways feel like they could go on forever, gray and windowless. I’ve been making mental notes of the arrows painted on either side of the walls, and so far, I know the day nurse and the classrooms are somewhere to the right of where we’re headed. We’ve walked through so many double doors that we must be in a different building from the one we started in. This place is bigger than it looks from outside. The sound of our footsteps and Ms. Bree’s keys have been the only noise in the halls since we entered them.
Where do the other girls live?
We turn a corner and Ms. Bree stops. “Almost there, ladies,” she says, pointing to the sign over her head that reads North Unit, Level 3. There’s an elevator and a staircase, both requiring key access. Ms. Bree decides on the elevator.
“This is theonlytime you’ll be in this elevator, unless it’s an emergency.”
We pile in. Samantha leans on the wall across from me.
“I know it’s a little tight in here, but remember, absolutely no touching,” Ms. Bree reminds us, putting another key in to push for level 3.
The elevator creaks like it doesn’t have many trips left.
“Sounds like being in here is the emergency,” someone whispers.
The girls let out bursts of laughter that we’ve been holding in. Mine is mostly fueled by nerves and sheer panic.
“Okay, ha, ha, ladies,” Ms. Bree says just as the elevator jolts to a stop. “Enough now.”
A woman with bright pink lipstick pulls the gate open. “Looking like one of the girls,” she jokes to Ms. Bree. “They weren’t playing about a full house.”
“Yeah, girl, like we needed it,” Ms. Bree says, pushing Samantha toward the woman. “She’s all yours. The rest of you to the wall.”
The woman moves behind Samantha and they go through two sets of doors. “You’re not going to give night staff trouble, right?” she asks before the doors slam behind them.
I can’t hear Samantha’s response, but I hear loud laughter from inside the room they’ve disappeared into.
“We’re going in there, quietly,” Ms. Bree says.
There are mumbles of agreement. I just nod.
Ms. Bree opens the first door and motions for me to walk through yet another gray hallway.
“Is there a time we actually get to talk?” a girl asks with the most attitude I’ve heard anyone give Ms. Bree up to this point.
I don’t move.
“Not really,” she responds.
“Of course.”
Ms. Bree marks something down. “Anyone else want to lose an early level?” She taps her pen to the clipboard almost like she’s daring us.
I don’t need to know what losing a level means to know I want no part of it.
“Walk,” Ms. Bree commands. I don’t hesitate.
I forgot to care about being first in line, which also meant being the first impression of the new girls. Now, my nerves return as Ms. Bree opens the second set of doors and the laughter from earlier gets louder.
“Over there to the right.” Ms. Bree points to a short length of wall to the left of a big windowed room labeled Unit Office. The laughter stops as girls on couches give us their undivided attention. The woman with the pink lipstick is in the office scolding a crying Samantha.
I find a spot on the wall, fix my eyes to the ground, and wait for further instructions.
“Ms. Pat, I better not get a roommate!” a girl yells from the couches.
“No yelling, Tanya!” a woman’s voice yells from the same area.