Chapter 6: Whynne

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Thanks a lot, Blake. I thought to myself as I was brought to my room by Emler. Now I get the gross guy. But I wasn't going to make a scene like Blake and ask for a new instructor. I'm not that rude. Emler grinned that disgusting leer at me as he opened the door to my room. I looked around. Not fancy, like I had suspected. A full sized bed, with a cheap looking lamp on a plastic end table, and a door that I assumed lead to a bathroom. My first thought was that I was going to get really bored in here, but then reality struck. I have a week, a tiny week, to pack everything I need to live! I felt the panic build until I was screaming, sprinting around my room. When I felt the panic began to ebb away, sadness took hold. I crawled into the bed and felt the tears flood down my face. I suddenly looked up, and saw Emler hovering over me.

"GET OUT!" I screamed. I sobbed into my pillow, then continued screaming, "GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!" He finally left, and I spend the better part of two hours crying. When I cried until I didn't have any tears left, I lifted my head, eyesight blurry from my tears and dehydration. I went up to the bathroom, and splashed some cold water on my face. I looked into the mirror, and gasped. My face was full of blotchy red patches, my nose was running like a faucet, and my eyes were squinted and bloodshot.

Oh gosh, I've got to take care of this before Emler comes back! I can't look like this! Not because I cared what Emler thought. It was just... I needed to look good. All the time, even when I don't feel good looking. Appearances have always been important to me. I don't know why, but if I'm not attractive, I feel... incomplete. I gripped the edge of the sink and took deep shuddering breaths. I gradually began to calm down.

So how do you even call for your instructor? Just...say their name?

"Emler?" I called sheepishly, feeling a bit ridiculous. Nothing happened.

Maybe I have to go and look for him... I'll do it in a bit. I sat down on my bed. It protested loudly as I did. You'd think they could afford nicer beds, with all their money. Less than a minute later, Emler crashed through my door, wheezing with all his might.

"You... ah... you... called?" he panted.

"How did you know?" He straightened and scowled at me.

"Cameras, of course. Didn't you listen?"

"Do they hear sound?"

"Yes!" he snapped. "Do you think I would be standing here if they couldn't? Now what do you want?"

Oh yeah. We call them if we want supplies. I was thinking more of wondering what the heck was going on.

"I... request information," I stuttered, trying to demand like Blake but failing to mimic her confidence.

"What kind of information?" He asked. My frustration was growing.

"You know what kind of information!" I snapped at him.

"No, actually, I don't," Emler told me in a smooth tone that made me want to slap him. "If you want information, you have to be very specific. We were told to only help if you ask specifically, and only if it is within the rules."

Within the rules...

"Ok, fine. I want you to bring me toiletries. Shampoo, conditioner, body wash, deodorant, that kinda thing. And a hairbrush. And toothpaste. Oh, and toothbrushes," I answered dully.

"As you wish, I bring you." He smirked at me and shuffled out the door. I sat on the bed as I waited for him. After a while, I grew confused.

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