♱ Equalia Falls ♱

CHAPTER 3 - SLIGHT IMPERFECTIONS

Warren and the others had played Six-Hand far too much during the night, not to mention Aaron had to accompany Peter to guide him to the bathrooms. Warren stretched, every vertebrae in his spine complaining from the lack of rest. He still felt cold, and a shiver ran down his back as he was sucked into the crowd of patients walking downstairs. He tried his best not to touch anyone, ducking under and creeping past people as he peeked over the sea of heads to find Natasha.

She was already sitting at one of the tables in the cream-painted room. There were tables set in neat lines along the room, with a small side-room where the smell of delicious soup was already beginning to curl through the Dining hall. Natasha was busy studying a painting on the wall, but she noticed Warren from the corner of her eye and smiled, waving him over. "Morning, Warren. Sit down, sit down."

Peter barrelled past him, skidding to a halt next to a very surprised Natasha and hopped into the seat next to her. "Hey, Natalie!"

Natasha opened her mouth to correct him but stayed quiet, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. Warren could see Oliver and Aaron sitting at the table next to them, and weighed the pros and cons of asking them to join his table.
"Hey, entrants," said a voice behind them.

Marissa.

She was standing there with her beady eyes, frizzy raven hair, and a poppy clipped to her uniform pocket. She didn't seem to be as aggressive or pointed as she had previously been, and her irritation radiation had died down a bit, but Warren found himself shirking away from her, as if she were a porcupine demanding a cuddle. Natasha blinked and sighed loudly, letting Marissa know she wasn't welcome.

Peter was the only one who offered her some amnesty. "Hello!"

Marissa smiled at him but none of it was genuine. She just looked like she was trying too hard. "Hey. So, uh, not sure if you knew but we have a bit of a... how do I say this... Don't-make-a-hell-load-of-noise-because-everyone-is-sleeping policy?"
"What?" Natasha huffed, rubbing her arms which had begun to be covered with goosebumps, "I was asleep as soon as my head hit my pillow. Don't blame it on us. I didn't exactly enjoy the ruckus, either. Go complain to a staff member or something."

"Yeah, well. What about you two?" Marissa asked. "You were probably making all the noise. I know Aaron and Oliver have a knack for nighttime games."

"Well, I–we–" Warren fumbled for an excuse. He knew that he couldn't deny the game allegations but the four had certainly been very quiet. "I don't think it was us. The noise we heard was coming from upstairs."

"Same," Natasha stated, folding a napkin on the table, looking at Marissa with a smile dripping with sarcasm. "I've been in an asylum before, honey. I think I know what peace and quiet is."

Marissa went quiet, but she just flipped her hair and strode away.
"What is her deal?" Natasha grumbled, receiving a bowl of soup from a staff member. "Thank you."

Peter dug into his food immediately, sipping the soup and gasping when he burnt his tongue, reaching for his glass of water. "Maybe she's just like that."

Warren watched Marissa join Aaron's table and talk to him and Oliver, her mouth moving quickly. Probably asking them the same questions, Warren thought bitterly, trying some steamed carrot that was floating in his bowl.

Serviteur Hannah, a young woman with bouncy blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a cheerful manner was herding the patients into the Meeting Hall.

The room was enormous, with rows of seats neatly arranged while a carved wooden stage overtook a third of the room, crowned with more chairs occupied by members of staff. There was a large cross nailed to the wall, much like the ones in the patient dorms, watching over the patients like a mother over her children.