Caitlin Hamilton-Jones

The Kid

I’m willing to bet that every teenager thinks their school looks creepy at night. I certainly did. The corridors, usually filled with sunlight and kids bustling about in an attempt to get to class on time, were now empty and cold. The moonlight now replaced the sun, creating a silver glow along the locker doors and linoleum floor. I was afraid to speak in case my voice resonated along the walls and looking at the school, as it looked now, I didn’t feel right forcing such an echo upon it.