Go inside

You take a deep breath and open the door, stepping inside as a smell bell rings to signal your entering. You blink a few times to take in the room. It is a series of booths that line the wall with a simple wooden bar opposite them. It smells of a mxi of different coffees, cook smoke and worn leather, but it isn't an unpleasant smell by any means. It is actually quite relaxing. The rustic charm of outside being the same as inside. You look around the small cafe taking in its features. Your eyes move to a woman sitting on a stood as a couple of customers walk past you and out the door. She is wearing a bright pink under a black kitchen apron. Her hair is a deep black colour. She looks about in her fifties from what you can tell. A newspaper is in her hands, but the woman looks bored.

An elderly couple is paying attention to the attention.

"A public transit bus was stopped and the driver **** its female customers and the male ones all joined in! The citizens can't live in peace if this keeps up."

She doesn't bother to look at the television, despite the news that is being reported.

"How frightening," the elderly male customer remarks.

"What could be going on?" the elderly female customer asks. "Didn't something similar happen just the other day?"

"And down is... the name of a shellfish used in pearl farming..." the manager says. She looks over at her from atop her glasses with her grey eyes. She sighs heavily, "...Oh, right. They did say that was today."

"We'll be going now. The payment's on the table," the old man states.

"Thanks for coming," the manager says.

"We're old, so there's no worries of us getting ****," the elderly man remarks, to which the elderly woman nods her head in agreement.

"What now?" The comment catches the manger by surprise.

"There's been a string of those mass **** attacks, you know," the elderly man explains. "I just hope that none happen around here."

"It's none of my concern," the manager says in a nonchalant tone as her eyes quickly glance over to you.

The elderly man only chuckles. "Haha, we'll see you next time."

He and the woman take their leave and it is only after the door shuts that the manager sighs loudly in exasperation before focusing her attention on you with a gaze of indifference.

"...Four hours for just a single cup of Joe." the manager says. "So, your Adam?"

"Uh, yes," you confirm.

The woman folds the paper and deposits it on the counter. "I'm Connie Leblanc. You'll be in my custody for the time being."

"Um... yeah..." you say.

"Have you been told?" Connie asks you. "A customer of mine and your parents know each other and- Well, not that that matters... Follow me," Connie says gruffly as she pushes herself off the stood and waves you over. You follow close behind. Just past the tables is a bathroom, and just path the bathroom is a narrow stairwell.

She stands at the centre of a very dusty and cluttered attic. Or more accuracy, a storage room from the looks of it. There is a thick level of dust everywhere, even in the air, Bags, Boxes, books, possibly a dead plant hiding in one corner and random things are all cluttered onto shelves that look to have a thick layer of dust on top of them and ready to fall at the slightest movement. A bed is shoved into the far corner under the window that is just a simple metal frame and mattress. The windows at the back of the room are so dirty that barely any light is able to penetrate through it. It is quite a dim and dull area. It is one of the dirtiest places you've ever seen. It's a storage area. Why is she showing you this? "This is your room. I'll at least give you sheets for your bed," Connie says, confirming your suspicions.

You really don't know what to say.

"You look like you wanna say something." She prompts, raising an eyebrow.

You jump slightly and turn back to her. "It's cluttered." you say.

"It's on you to clean up the rest." Connie says. "I'll be leaving after I lock up each day. You'll be alone at night, but don't do anything stupid. I'll throw you out if you cause any trouble." You blink at her bluntness as she continues, "Now then... I got the gist of your situation. You were accused of ****. Right?"

You look down slightly at your feet. You told my side of the story many times, from your former friends and classmates to the teachers and even the officers in your hometown. The result was still the same; no one believed you. In their eyes, her accusation was all the proof she should have needed.

"...And now that you've been branded a ****, you were expelled from your high school."

You recall how your family fought for your innocence, to the point of nearly risking their own safety... In the end, it just wasn't enough.

"You had to transfer and move out here, which your parents also approved." You remember the **** your parents showed.

"In other words, they got rid of you for being a pain in the ass."

"It was more **** approval on my family's part, actually. They hate it here,"you admit in a casual tone.

The woman is telling you things you already know.

"It's best you not talk about anything unnecessary. I am in the restaurant. I am in the restaurant business, you know."

Connie says. "We'll be going to Prism tomorrow."

"Prison...?" you repeat

"Prism Academy-the school you'll be attending." Connie says. "We'll introduce ourselves properly to the staff there. There's rarely a place that'll accept someone like you, you know." She glances back at the various boxes of your possessions and suitcases of clothes behind her. "What a waste of my Sunday..." Connie can't even keep herself from complaining. "Your 'luggage' arrived a little while ago. I brought it up here for you."

She goes over a few more rules about not disturbing the customers or herself when at work. Then the woman leaves, without as much as a handshake. When the woman has gone back downstairs, you look around the filthy attic in despair. Your parents said there is a room for you, but you aren't sure if this qualities. It is lit with bare lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling. What are you supposed to do? This is your room now.

You'll be living here starting today... You should check out what's in here... It's a desk with a stack of books on top. No one can use this as a desk while it's like this... This sofa is covered in dust... It looks like you can still se it, but you'll have to clean it first... It's the cardboard box sent from back home... It's full of clothes and daily necessities. You move to the bed and drop your bag next to it. Sitting on the thankfully clean sheets and comfortable enough mattress. It could be worse, you suppose. You look around the room and sigh heavily. At this moment, you have never felt so alone.