The holding room is the collection of everything left by peoples parents. luckily for me, my room tends to be right next to it. I remember Margaret comment about me going to the mess hall. I reach for my crutch to topple over to the door. with my noodle arms, it's almost impossible to open the thousand pounded metal door. For most people my age opening this would be a piece of cake. but it's all most impossible for me when you're wopling on a cruth trying to pull open a thousand-pound door. I topple down the hallway once reaching the main area its interesting to see the different kids. even though all the boys are wearing white pants and girls in white shirts, everyone has different heights, skin, hair, eyes, and skin. as I slowly make my way to the mess hall, feeling the other kids cooled icy stares. probably staring at my stranges looks or the fact that I'm from the extream medical wing or x wing. I take a look at the mess hall with its white wall, chair, floors, and tables. I topple over to the lady holding a large a spoon handing out a white goo they call food. "are you finally eating then 761757," the woman holding the spoon glares. I give her a side-eye, "yes Shara I am and I'm so happy you know my number by heart. she slaps my tray full of slop on the counter, I look at her frizz black hair and face full of makeup with her white eyeshadow, white eyelash, blush covered cheeks, light blue lipstick, and nasty yellow stained teeth. "thanks" I say sarcastically, trying to find a way to carry my tray and walk use my crutch at the same time. after shifting my weight and slamming my tray between my armpit and chest, not the most comfortable position. I see Shara cracking a smile, I give her another glare "oh, by the way, Shara thanks so much for telling Margret about my lovely eating habits," I say sarcastically. I turn away before hearing her response, "nasty little woman," I mutter to myself. I find the nearest empty table and stare at my goo and using my spoon to make different shapes. I look at the other tables around me with seven of them being packed full of kids. "strength in number I guess" I mutter to myself, taking another glance around the room to meet Shara's green eyes. I take the smallest chunk to eat in order to make her icy glares stop. "taste like potatoes, taste like potatoes," I whisper over and over again. that did not taste like potatoes, unable to stomach another bite, I toss the rest of the goo into my pocket to give sky later. I leave the tray on the table shooting Shara another icy glare and slowly make my way out of the room.
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