#dplock

Mel agreed with Barrel go out for a late night coffee. He said he was going to pick her up around night time. She waited. And she waited. She even finished 5 levels of angry birds with three stars. Mel was starting to get nervous. She had a funny feeling in her stomach. She played with Raphael. Even him could sense that something was off. Mel looked at the clock in her desk. A hour and half had gone by and no sign of Barrel. He's fine she reassured herself. He's probably with his friends. Mel said to herself. Saying it made her feel better and to not start thinking about crazy stuff. Or panicking here he could be right now. She tapped her foot impatiently. And glanced back at the clock. Only a minute since she checked it before. She looked around her empty room, searching for something to keep her busy. She looked at the pile of clothes and shrugged. Maybe I could fold them. She moved to the pile and started folding the clothes until, she picked Barrel's jacket up. He let her have at Si and Am's party and Mel forgot she had that. Mel held the jacket close to her, it still smelled like him. He heart started beating fast. She couldn't take it.

 Dixie sighed as she stared at the black screen on her cellphone. All day she had laid in her room, not doing anything productive. The day seemed to go by so slowly and she was beginning to hate sitting in her room. Being alone all day was staring to get to her, she had to talk to someone, she needed the human contact. The blonde fixed the buttons of her jacket, if she was going to be alone she might as well do it while getting some exercise and a walk around campus would be the perfect thing to do. biting her lip she forced herself up and out of her room making sure she closed the door on the way out.  

Trish made her way to her classroom; she cancelled her classes on Monday and Tuesday because there was a fairly large project due. One that she required the use of non-art supplies for, so no student needed access to it anyway. She decided to take a small break herself, remaining around campus and still working – just not in her classroom. Though she did love the room. It was spacious and bright, various scenes painted by her hung on the walls, and student art graced some of the counters. She nodded in greeting to several students as she walked to her creative home at DP. A few ideas had cropped up in her mind and she was desperately seeking some time to paint.

Upon reaching the hallway where her classroom resided she could already tell something was off – the door that she had locked was slightly open. Not enough to draw focus; just enough that it didn’t click completely back into place. She noticed because she had an eye for detail and always double checked the lock. A feeling entered the pit of her stomach, not dread – something else. Something more sinister. Her students knew that if they needed something, she was more than happy to let them in. This was different. She pulled the door open and her eyes couldn’t choose where to focus first. Paint was smeared across the tables, floor and walls. Some work stations had been completely tipped over. Her own desk was marked with more than one color and looked a little burnt.