Shortly after my mom left, I moved into one of the best dorms. There were eleven of us in the room. It really got me wondering what the worst would look like if the best was this overcrowded. Though the place was very neat, no one could imagine there would be a lot of insanity there. I also wasn't informed that I would be sharing a room with the school's most somewhat delinquent kids. I was a complete stranger when I walked in. Everyone was just on their bunks, doing their own thing before I entered, but all eyes stayed on me when I stepped in with my crossbody bag around my shoulder. At first, I didn't know what they were capable of, but it eventually became so clear that it couldn't be ignored. For the first three nights, I cried, wishing I should have died as a kid instead of growing up to witness a hell as terrible as this.
Each of my roommates had one crazy habit, and each crazy habit was evidence of what they would become. My bunkmate was Aiden; he was thirteen. At birth, it was diagnosed that he had a tumor in his brain that led to permanent amnesia as he grew. They said he had a tumor in his brain which was growing into something dangerous. His amnesia was confirmed when he forgot that he had an accident with his mother. He still believed his mother was waiting for him at home. He would boast of what he would do with her whenever we got a holiday. And every time he was reminded, he would cry as if it had happened hours earlier. The most painful part was, he would cry about not remembering the accident. His illness made him the best person to confide in about any issue. We all told him stuff. He was the best listener, and he wouldn't tell anyone because he would eventually forget you told him anything. The only weird thing was that he never got our names wrong. He was also diagnosed with autism at eight, which made it really difficult to bond with him. He was gentle and silent, but his urine was always leaking on me every night. It was always a miracle shower. The worst part was that he was staying in the upper bunk, and to tell him to switch bunks with me was like I was taking advantage of his illnesses. I didn't want that on my conscience. I didn't know at first; all I knew was I always smelled like rotten fish every morning, until one night when I realized I was the only one complaining about sweating when the breeze blew cold. My hair always got wet, and a side of my shirt. There was always something leaking from the upper bunk. I couldn't tell anyone that Aiden sometimes peed four times before dawn. It was like a rotten egg in an astronaut suit, one only I endured. I just decided to enjoy the holy water for a few more weeks till I have enough courage to complain.
My second roommate was Billy. He bullied everyone in the room because he was bigger than us, and also the oldest. The giant of Woodsburg junior year, a tall and hefty kid feared by many. Even by my greatest nemesis. He could take on three kids of the same size as I was and would still win. He would take a part of our foods in exchange for protection. The issue was, no matter how much I paid in food, there was always someone lurking in some corner to bully me, so I just decided to keep my stomach full. Whether I paid or not, I was going to get smacked. He actually started his own protection racket before we graduated high school, got married by 19, and had six kids before 30. Adam, who happened to be Billy's bunkmate, was a peculiar blend of evil and betrayal. I nicknamed him the hidden serpent in the forever garden. He could be called an introvert, but not the kind of introvert that withdrew to himself. He doesn't speak to us, but he could go a long way while talking to girls. Adam enjoyed telling on everyone, until one day when the joy alone wasn't enough, and he decided to monetize it. He made more money that month than any Woodsburg teacher would make in one year. So, he got nicknamed 'the snitch.'
My fourth roommate was Max, the jack of all trades. The baggage of talents. A whole league of greatness in one guy. There was no doubt that he was the best of us. He used to be very silent, always watching everyone playing while his mind soared above the mountain of creativity. He made everything possible. He would often touch his head and quote, "If you can see it here, then it is already made possible." He was one of the few people I looked up to. Though we never actually had a great relationship with each other, I never knew what he became. But his future already looked promising enough.
His bunkmate was Jeremiah. To some people, he was Jay. To us, he was Jerry. He was the only Black kid in our room. I wondered how he fit into a place like that without struggling. Everyone was always cautious when it came to relating with him in the room. Even Billy didn't take his food; he got free protection. We would even watch how we joke with him. A slight mistake could make us feel like we were racists. He was always fighting for black people's justice. There was a rumor that his grandfather served in the army during the Second World War and lost one leg. The poor veteran was never remembered, nor was he given a befitting burial when he sadly passed away one evening during Christmas. Jerry's activism almost got him expelled twice, and sadly, no other black student fought for him during both times. He only had us.
My sixth roommate was Kenneth. Kenneth knew all parts that made up a woman before he turned 15. He was so obsessed with it that it almost ruined his life. He got multiple suspensions, never really had a girlfriend, and he was banned from going to the chapel after he was caught watching the wrong thing during one Easter Sunday. It was quite an amusing drama until the pope was forced to cuss him out. However, his bunkmate Alexander, was almost the same as him when it came to dealing with the other gender. He was popularly known by the short form of his name — Alex. He was always found among girls. He had his way with them, a kind of touch I never had. He was the first wild goose I had as a friend. He had a long-time alias, Mr. Romantic. It was a title he got after asking a teacher to the homecoming dance.
Blake was my eighth roommate — a total weirdo. Strongly motivated by his father's success story, he purchased a lot of lottery tickets as a child. His dad was a roadside gambler before he got a job near the casino. His father was quite obsessed with gambling and lottery arenas, and I could say that he was lucky to win a lottery after several years of gambling. His family's success story was one that happened overnight, yet the betting habit didn't leave his dad until Blake was born — he held on to the hope that he might win a bigger lottery one day. Blake was a complete copy of his dad, or somehow worse. He mostly placed bets on irrelevant matters. Fortunately, he used to win over half of them.
His bunkmate was Clayton — a science freak that was great at almost everything. We shared the same passion, but he was brave to act on his own. He had one basic dream, and it was to make an elevator that would defy gravity — something out of the ordinary. He did invent the gas juice that gave the whole school hiccups during one of their mischievous act before I arrived.
Bobbie was the last; he didn't have a bunkmate. He was the only one with a single mattress. He was a kid that understood privileges. He was a scholarship student, but it didn't stop him from becoming mad like us. Bobbie was a sharp-minded kid, but rarely spoke to any of us. He found comfort in his own silence.
After standing at the door for several minutes, I pulled myself out of the daydreams. Their gazes were still fixed on me. It was quite terrifying that my eyes dilated several times under my glasses. A stone of fear quickly struck me, shrinking the last hope I had that the school might not be as terrible as I read about it.
"Hi guys, I'm Thomas," I decided to greet them.
Their eyes quickly withdrew from me, and they all returned to what they were doing before I suddenly appeared. If only I knew it would take just a greeting to get their creepy eyes off me, I would have done it the second I got to the door. For the rest of that day, we didn't utter a single word to one another.
Moving into the dorms in Woodsburg wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad after all. I just held my arms to myself all night after whispering some requests to God. What have I done to be sent to the strangest place on earth? I deeply longed for a home I just left. I missed almost everything, mostly the ones I used to complain about — the bed and the meal. A stone bed would have been better than the mattress given to us at Woodsburg, and the meal I had the first day wasn't encouraging. At a certain point, I cried as silently as possible, wondering why I had to go through all of that. I had to be hopeful that things would get better; I might end up loving the place. My grandfather would say, "The hardest place to live in is your own head. If you can survive your head, you can survive everywhere." I held on to that word because even I understood the head to be the strangest place. It was only a matter of time; I would fit in. After several thoughts filled my mind, I murmured my favorite lullaby to myself to put myself to sleep. And it all became silent.
Each of my roommates was a reason for me to die at first, but Aiden alone was three reasons. He always made sure I had a taste of his urine every night. He was a boring type, and lastly, he doesn't remember past events.
I had this enemy I didn't meet on my first day. He was my last reason to die during my stay in Woodsburg. Aside from all those thirteen reasons to die, Woodsburg was actually a place of fun. There were adventures waiting for me. Those types of ones I would do anything to have again. Those reasons I didn't wish to grow up.