Room 232
By Eli Susman
Carlo Rizeh didn’t know where he was. He was lost. He was in the halls of his school.
Well it’s hard to consider it his school. He had just got accepted. It was his first day.
Boarding school was scary. For Carlo it was at least. Viceroy was prestigious. His
family had high hopes for him.
“Listen Carlos, this is do or die. There is no messing around.”
“Yes sir, family tradition blah blah blah I get it.”
“‘Blah blah blah?’ Is that any way to refer to your father?”
Carlos shrunk down into his soul.
“No sir.”
“Go to your quarters.”
“Yes sir.”
Carlo started to run. He checked his watch.
“Take this with you, Carlos. You’ll need it. Anytime you are lost. Look at your
watch.”
“Of course Kamah.”
He looked into the eyes of his grandmother. They were dark. Hollow.
Carlo fixed his wavy hair. It was smothering his face as he ran.
“You know where you got that from.” She laughed.
“Yes I know. Family tradition. The long hair. Blah blah blah.”
“That is no way to address your mother.”
“Sorry.”
Carlo looked at his watch again. He had 3 minutes.
“I could give you one piece of advice my Jameh. Never be late.”
“Why?”
“It leaves a bad impression.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say sorry. Just fix it.”
“Okay.”
“Never be late.”
Carlo was going to be late. He had 2 minutes.
He looked around.
“Does anyone know where room 232 is?”
Nobody answered.
Students filled the halls. Nobody responded.
“Does anybody know where room 232 is?”
Nobody answered.
He kept running. But he didn’t know where he was. How was he supposed to.
“Please my family will kill me. Room 232!”
Nobody answered.
He had 1 minute.
He looked at the room numbers he ran passes. He felt like the same numbers kept
repeating. He was lost. And he was going to be late.
Quickly, students began to disappear, and enter their classrooms like ghosts. With the
blink of an eye. After what seemed just seconds, only a few people remained.
The bell rang.
A few last second students straggled into their classrooms.
Carlo stood in the hall. Late.
He was late.
“Crap!” Carlo slowed his run and stomped. There wasn’t even an echo. Nobody even
heard him.
“I just want to find room 232.”
He walked. Nowhere specific. Just looking for his history class.
“My family is gonna kill me when they hear about this.”
Carlo looked around as he walked. Still searching for room 232. He studied the
architecture of his school. Tall walls, beige in color but stained with the wear and tear
of age. VIceroy had been around for...for longer than Carlo could remember. He saw a
bench, and thought about the day his father culminated. He took Carlo along with him.
To show him around.
“Look at this place Carlos. Isn’t it wonderful. Colorful, tall walls. The smell in
the air is crisp. Ah. I wish I didn’t have to leave.”
“Yes. It’s nice”
“One day you’ll be here son. You’ll learn the ways. Just as I have done.”
“Yes. Probably.”
“Not probably. You will.”
“Okay.”
They sat down on the bench. It was bright brown.
“I don’t want to come here.”
His dad’s eyes shot at him.
“But you will.”
“No.”
“Do not tell your father no. Remember that.”
“Okay.”
Carlo looked at the bench he once sat on with his father before the accident. It was
dark brown. And the smell of sewer began to fill Carlo’s nose. He ignored it, and kept
walking. Still searching for room 232. Despite the nostalgia he was feeling for his
father.
“I can’t believe I’m late.” The thought of his grandfather repeating to him never to be
late ached in his head. Not being late would of been the least he could do to honor his
grandfather.
Carlo looked at the cracks in the walls. He wondered how long they had been there.
The smell of sewer continued.
He still looked from door to door searching for room 232.
Suddenly, a little boy appeared by the bend in the hallway. He peered around the
corner and stared at Carlo. He had dark skin, bright grey eyes, and grey hair. He looked
odd.
“Hey, kid.”
The kid backed up
“Do you-”
The kid turned and ran around the corner.
“Hey!” Carlo sped up to try and watch up. He went around the bend. But the kid was
gone. He disappeared without a trace.
“Where the hell did he go.” The wall to his left had large cracks. Almost craters in
them. Completely destroyed in some parts.
Again, the boy appeared from thin air.
“Hey kid. Do you know where room 232 is?”
He gave him a blank stare.
“Room 232. Where is room 232?”
The kid turned and began to trot down the hall. He looked back, as if to make sure
Carlo was following. So, he did just that. He followed the kid. He hoped he was taking
him to room 232. The smell of sewer was replaced by the smell of rot. Even mold. Carlo
thought it was the smell of “old”.
“Don’t call me old.”
“But that’s the truth.”
“The truth isn’t always the best choice Jameh.”
“In this case it is.”
“You may be right.”
“Yes. I may.”
He followed the kid for what seemed like quite a while. Longer than he had expected.
He didn’t think he could have been that far from the class. He felt like he’d walked
through the whole school and had to be at least close to arriving at his classroom.
The smell worsened.
“We almost there?”
The kid stopped and turned.
He nodded his head.
“Okay.”
They kept walking. The halls of the school were never ending. That’s what they
seemed like.
Again, he saw something that reminded him of his father. A sign.
“Neurological Studies”
“You know why I understand you.”
“No sir.”
“It’s because of this building right here.”
“Okay.”
“They taught me everything there is to know about our minds.”
“Okay.”
“One day, so will you.”
“Okay.”
“What?” He was stern.
“Yes sir.”
Finally, the boy stopped. For the last time. He turned to Carlo. Then looked at the door
he was standing in front of. Then, he turned. Went around the corner, and Carlo never
saw, or heard from him again. He disappeared.
“Bye.” Carlo said. He turned his head and looked at the room number.
Room 232. A wooden green door. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in years.
He made it.
But he was late.
He pushed the door. Half expecting it to not open. But it did. With ease.
Carlo entered nervously, not sure what to expect. A history classroom, he assumed.
The room was dark, and a smell of damp cold flew on Carlo’s face. He could barely see.
He was confused. Rather, he was scared.
“Hello?” Carlo called out. Hoping for the lights to turn on. Or that the eerie cold would
go away. He wanted to be in a history classroom. Not a fucking death basement.
There was no response to his call.
Because he had already gone too far to find the room, he continued. He walked further
into the edgy darkness. Every second he was scared something would jump out to get
him.
The cold air blew ever so slightly onto his arm. He was on guard. He could barely see
right in front of him. He tried to focus on something. Anything. But there was nothing.
Bam!
The floor beneath his left foot disappeared, and the next thing he knew, he was
tumbling down the narrow stairs. He could see nothing besides his skin and the
smooth and cold stairs. He made it to the bottom and he felt a sense of relief that he
didn’t hurt himself. His arm and hip were hurting. But they didn’t feel serious.
Quickly, he realized he was lying on the cement floor of a random room that was dark.
He jumped up, trying to get a sense for where he was.
The second he reached a standing position he saw a pair of eyes were in front of him.
They were yellow and wide. Just inches from his face. He saw nothing besides the eyes.
He jumped back and yelped. The eyes disappeared. They closed. He assumed. He
turned to run, but he turned right into the eyes again. He felt it. The eyes were
attached to something else. It felt human.
Carlo yelled, and backed up. Stumbling until he was up against a wall.
A smile grew beneath the eyes, as white as paper. The teeth looked normal. It got
closer.
Carlo began to shake.
It got closer.
Carlo began to cry.
It was just feet away.
Carlo’s cry turned to a complete weep for his life.
All Carlo wanted was his history class. He wanted to find Room 232. But instead he was
lead to a dark room where a set of yellow eyes and white teeth were about the eat him
alive in the cold darkness.
It was just inches away.
The smile grew and grew.
Carlo was ready, there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. He was
overtaken with fear. His body couldn’t move. And although he knew he needed to run,
or fight, or try to escape, he couldn’t. He stood weeping hoping that he would turn out
okay.
Then suddenly, the lights flashed on, and the big smile turned to a bellowing laugh. It
was a person. He had yellow eyes. But nonetheless, it was a person.
Carlo stopped crying. And looked at the strange man before him. Could he even call
him a man. Was he even a man?
He continued laughing. Bent over, hands on knees. Nearly out of breath from his
laughing fit.
“Whooooweeee.” The man yelled out. He took a deep breath.
That reminded Carlo to breath, and he took a much needed breath as well.
Carlo looked at the man, and besides his yellow eyes, everything was normal. They
made eye contact.
“Well you’re one hell of a guy Carlos.”
Carlo stepped back, forgetting there was a wall, he made no progress.
“How do you know my name?”
The man let of a laugh again.
“You’re like me Carlos.”
“You can call me Carlo.”
“You’re like me, Carlo.”
Carlo relaxed at the sound of the man's voice.
“What do you mean, like you.”
The man grinned.
“We both tried. But sometimes that isn’t enough.”
Carlo looked around the room. It was a large stadium-like room. One in which a
teacher would give a lecture. Nothing about it looked weird.
“What are you?”
“Me? Oh I’m just a ghost.”
“What?” Carlo let out an almost laugh.
“You heard me. A ghost.”
Suddenly, a bright light flashed. Carlo’s lungs filled with air and he couldn’t see a
thing. His feet lifted off the floor for a second. He set back down and the room
returned to normal.
“Ahhh. Now you are the same.”
“The same? What are you saying.”
The man looked at Carlo with comforting yellow eyes. He nudged his head to his left. A
mirror was leaning on the wall. Carlo walked over.
“You tried Carlo, you really did, but there was nothing you could do.”
Carlo looked into the mirror. His eyes were yellow.
“You tried to save your family. But you were late. You were late Carlo.”Carlo Rizeh didn’t know where he was. He was lost. He was in the halls of his school.
Well it’s hard to consider it his school. He had just got accepted. It was his first day.
Boarding school was scary. For Carlo it was at least. Viceroy was prestigious. His
family had high hopes for him.
“Listen Carlos, this is do or die. There is no messing around.”
“Yes sir, family tradition blah blah blah I get it.”
“‘Blah blah blah?’ Is that any way to refer to your father?”
Carlos shrunk down into his soul.
“No sir.”
“Go to your quarters.”
“Yes sir.”
Carlo started to run. He checked his watch.
“Take this with you, Carlos. You’ll need it. Anytime you are lost. Look at your
watch.”
“Of course Kamah.”
He looked into the eyes of his grandmother. They were dark. Hollow.
Carlo fixed his wavy hair. It was smothering his face as he ran.
“You know where you got that from.” She laughed.
“Yes I know. Family tradition. The long hair. Blah blah blah.”
“That is no way to address your mother.”
“Sorry.”
Carlo looked at his watch again. He had 3 minutes.
“I could give you one piece of advice my Jameh. Never be late.”
“Why?”
“It leaves a bad impression.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say sorry. Just fix it.”
“Okay.”
“Never be late.”
Carlo was going to be late. He had 2 minutes.
He looked around.
“Does anyone know where room 232 is?”
Nobody answered.
Students filled the halls. Nobody responded.
“Does anybody know where room 232 is?”
Nobody answered.
He kept running. But he didn’t know where he was. How was he supposed to.
“Please my family will kill me. Room 232!”
Nobody answered.
He had 1 minute.
He looked at the room numbers he ran passes. He felt like the same numbers kept
repeating. He was lost. And he was going to be late.
Quickly, students began to disappear, and enter their classrooms like ghosts. With the
blink of an eye. After what seemed just seconds, only a few people remained.
The bell rang.
A few last second students straggled into their classrooms.
Carlo stood in the hall. Late.
He was late.
“Crap!” Carlo slowed his run and stomped. There wasn’t even an echo. Nobody even
heard him.
“I just want to find room 232.”
He walked. Nowhere specific. Just looking for his history class.
“My family is gonna kill me when they hear about this.”
Carlo looked around as he walked. Still searching for room 232. He studied the
architecture of his school. Tall walls, beige in color but stained with the wear and tear
of age. VIceroy had been around for...for longer than Carlo could remember. He saw a
bench, and thought about the day his father culminated. He took Carlo along with him.
To show him around.
“Look at this place Carlos. Isn’t it wonderful. Colorful, tall walls. The smell in
the air is crisp. Ah. I wish I didn’t have to leave.”
“Yes. It’s nice”
“One day you’ll be here son. You’ll learn the ways. Just as I have done.”
“Yes. Probably.”
“Not probably. You will.”
“Okay.”
They sat down on the bench. It was bright brown.
“I don’t want to come here.”
His dad’s eyes shot at him.
“But you will.”
“No.”
“Do not tell your father no. Remember that.”
“Okay.”
Carlo looked at the bench he once sat on with his father before the accident. It was
dark brown. And the smell of sewer began to fill Carlo’s nose. He ignored it, and kept
walking. Still searching for room 232. Despite the nostalgia he was feeling for his
father.
“I can’t believe I’m late.” The thought of his grandfather repeating to him never to be
late ached in his head. Not being late would of been the least he could do to honor his
grandfather.
Carlo looked at the cracks in the walls. He wondered how long they had been there.
The smell of sewer continued.
He still looked from door to door searching for room 232.
Suddenly, a little boy appeared by the bend in the hallway. He peered around the
corner and stared at Carlo. He had dark skin, bright grey eyes, and grey hair. He looked
odd.
“Hey, kid.”
The kid backed up
“Do you-”
The kid turned and ran around the corner.
“Hey!” Carlo sped up to try and watch up. He went around the bend. But the kid was
gone. He disappeared without a trace.
“Where the hell did he go.” The wall to his left had large cracks. Almost craters in
them. Completely destroyed in some parts.
Again, the boy appeared from thin air.
“Hey kid. Do you know where room 232 is?”
He gave him a blank stare.
“Room 232. Where is room 232?”
The kid turned and began to trot down the hall. He looked back, as if to make sure
Carlo was following. So, he did just that. He followed the kid. He hoped he was taking
him to room 232. The smell of sewer was replaced by the smell of rot. Even mold. Carlo
thought it was the smell of “old”.
“Don’t call me old.”
“But that’s the truth.”
“The truth isn’t always the best choice Jameh.”
“In this case it is.”
“You may be right.”
“Yes. I may.”
He followed the kid for what seemed like quite a while. Longer than he had expected.
He didn’t think he could have been that far from the class. He felt like he’d walked
through the whole school and had to be at least close to arriving at his classroom.
The smell worsened.
“We almost there?”
The kid stopped and turned.
He nodded his head.
“Okay.”
They kept walking. The halls of the school were never ending. That’s what they
seemed like.
Again, he saw something that reminded him of his father. A sign.
“Neurological Studies”
“You know why I understand you.”
“No sir.”
“It’s because of this building right here.”
“Okay.”
“They taught me everything there is to know about our minds.”
“Okay.”
“One day, so will you.”
“Okay.”
“What?” He was stern.
“Yes sir.”
Finally, the boy stopped. For the last time. He turned to Carlo. Then looked at the door
he was standing in front of. Then, he turned. Went around the corner, and Carlo never
saw, or heard from him again. He disappeared.
“Bye.” Carlo said. He turned his head and looked at the room number.
Room 232. A wooden green door. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in years.
He made it.
But he was late.
He pushed the door. Half expecting it to not open. But it did. With ease.
Carlo entered nervously, not sure what to expect. A history classroom, he assumed.
The room was dark, and a smell of damp cold flew on Carlo’s face. He could barely see.
He was confused. Rather, he was scared.
“Hello?” Carlo called out. Hoping for the lights to turn on. Or that the eerie cold would
go away. He wanted to be in a history classroom. Not a fucking death basement.
There was no response to his call.
Because he had already gone too far to find the room, he continued. He walked further
into the edgy darkness. Every second he was scared something would jump out to get
him.
The cold air blew ever so slightly onto his arm. He was on guard. He could barely see
right in front of him. He tried to focus on something. Anything. But there was nothing.
Bam!
The floor beneath his left foot disappeared, and the next thing he knew, he was
tumbling down the narrow stairs. He could see nothing besides his skin and the
smooth and cold stairs. He made it to the bottom and he felt a sense of relief that he
didn’t hurt himself. His arm and hip were hurting. But they didn’t feel serious.
Quickly, he realized he was lying on the cement floor of a random room that was dark.
He jumped up, trying to get a sense for where he was.
The second he reached a standing position he saw a pair of eyes were in front of him.
They were yellow and wide. Just inches from his face. He saw nothing besides the eyes.
He jumped back and yelped. The eyes disappeared. They closed. He assumed. He
turned to run, but he turned right into the eyes again. He felt it. The eyes were
attached to something else. It felt human.
Carlo yelled, and backed up. Stumbling until he was up against a wall.
A smile grew beneath the eyes, as white as paper. The teeth looked normal. It got
closer.
Carlo began to shake.
It got closer.
Carlo began to cry.
It was just feet away.
Carlo’s cry turned to a complete weep for his life.
All Carlo wanted was his history class. He wanted to find Room 232. But instead he was
lead to a dark room where a set of yellow eyes and white teeth were about the eat him
alive in the cold darkness.
It was just inches away.
The smile grew and grew.
Carlo was ready, there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. He was
overtaken with fear. His body couldn’t move. And although he knew he needed to run,
or fight, or try to escape, he couldn’t. He stood weeping hoping that he would turn out
okay.
Then suddenly, the lights flashed on, and the big smile turned to a bellowing laugh. It
was a person. He had yellow eyes. But nonetheless, it was a person.
Carlo stopped crying. And looked at the strange man before him. Could he even call
him a man. Was he even a man?
He continued laughing. Bent over, hands on knees. Nearly out of breath from his
laughing fit.
“Whooooweeee.” The man yelled out. He took a deep breath.
That reminded Carlo to breath, and he took a much needed breath as well.
Carlo looked at the man, and besides his yellow eyes, everything was normal. They
made eye contact.
“Well you’re one hell of a guy Carlos.”
Carlo stepped back, forgetting there was a wall, he made no progress.
“How do you know my name?”
The man let of a laugh again.
“You’re like me Carlos.”
“You can call me Carlo.”
“You’re like me, Carlo.”
Carlo relaxed at the sound of the man's voice.
“What do you mean, like you.”
The man grinned.
“We both tried. But sometimes that isn’t enough.”
Carlo looked around the room. It was a large stadium-like room. One in which a
teacher would give a lecture. Nothing about it looked weird.
“What are you?”
“Me? Oh I’m just a ghost.”
“What?” Carlo let out an almost laugh.
“You heard me. A ghost.”
Suddenly, a bright light flashed. Carlo’s lungs filled with air and he couldn’t see a
thing. His feet lifted off the floor for a second. He set back down and the room
returned to normal.
“Ahhh. Now you are the same.”
“The same? What are you saying.”
The man looked at Carlo with comforting yellow eyes. He nudged his head to his left. A
mirror was leaning on the wall. Carlo walked over.
“You tried Carlo, you really did, but there was nothing you could do.”
Carlo looked into the mirror. His eyes were yellow.
“You tried to save your family. But you were late. You were late Carlo.”