The Institute

by Kayla Howarth

  ***

  When I get back to my room to go to bed, something feels off. I don’t know what, but something isn’t sitting right.

  The bed. Did I make it this morning? I doubt it. It doesn’t sound like something I would do. Then why is it made now?

  Someone’s been in here.

  Panicking, I don’t know what to do. I should walk out. What if they’re still in here? I should go get someone. I should go get Chad. Hell, I’d settle for Drew right now.

  Be strong, I tell myself as I check under my bed. No one’s there. I check the bathroom, but no one’s there either. The last place I check is the closet, and it becomes obvious why people were in my room. All of my uniforms have been upgraded. I now have four stripes on all of my clothes.

  When did they do this? While we were taking the tests? What if I’d failed?

  Even though I now know why someone was in my room, it doesn’t make me feel at ease. I lie awake, jumping at every little bump or creak I hear coming from the hallway or bathroom. We also find out our assignments tomorrow, so that’s not exactly making me drift off to sleep either. Will I ever get a decent eight hours’ sleep again? I’d be happy with even five or six right about now.