Those iconic plastic chairs were littered around the room, some cracked and bent. And the well-known laminate ceiling panels, now some missing and others hanging. Oh, and the teacher’s desk! That fake wood veneer peeling to reveal the cheap particle board beneath. It was solemn, but eerie as our flashlights quickly glanced at every detail.
I looked up at them, the people I thought were my friends, but when one of them looked back up there was nothing—a completely blank face. An empty canvas.
In a moment I was them, looking back at me, who was now spouting random nonsensical words and rhymes. And then I watched: legs and arms sprouted from what was once my back, gripping onto the walls and ceiling, pushing off the floor, lifting my body into the air.