Hey. So this idea came to me last night and so I wrote it! Depending on the kind of response I get from reviews I may or may not continue this. I have an idea and this "story" will either be a prologue or first chapter to a longer story. (Now that I think about it I may just continue this regardless but I want to know what you think!)
The scenery was white.
The walls, chairs, tiled floors and ceiling in the small square room were all colorless. Even the few tiny windows seemed to let in only blinding white light. I had been sitting in the same, uncomfortable plastic chair for over an hour and all I could comprehend about my surroundings was how white it was.
It was pathetic really.
If I were a normal person, I would blame my lack of insightful thoughts on nerves. The nerves of someone waiting at the dentist's office for a root canal or something equally superficial. But, fortunately (or some would say unfortunately), I'm not a normal person. And this isn't the dentist's office.
Boredom would actually be a more outstanding culprit than anything else for my current state. The once occupied chairs lining three of the walls are now vacant, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Each one of the previous occupants were led through a white door (imagine that) on my immediate left to places unknown. And those places unknown are where I desperately want to be.
It seems like I have been waiting my whole life to be on the other side of that door. I have wanted this so much for so long that when it came to finally taking the tests, it almost felt like I had been going through another training exercise. Not even a real challenge in my opinion.
Thinking of the training suddenly reminds me of the casual clothing I'm in as well. The thin cotton t-shirt I was given after the tests feels like a feather against my hard frame. I glance down and realize that it is also the color of my current environment. I hadn't noticed before.
Click!
I'm out of my chair before the door fully opens to reveal a short but built man in the doorway.
"The Director will see you now." He says in a calm tone.
"Thank you Councelor." I say sincerely before he turns around a leads me down a narrow hallway.
I idly note that the hallway is just as white as the waiting room and decide that I never want to see the color ever again. Nothing in my existence will be the color white if I can help it.
"In here Miss." He says in the exact same tone as before and rather than answer him, I merely nod and walk in the door.
"Damnit." I say in such a low tone that the Director, sitting behind his desk, didn't even know I said anything.
His whole damn room didn't have a splash of color in it. Seriously, what was with these people and the color white?
I quickly compose myself and forget my bland surroundings as to not piss off the man in front of me though. I have been waiting too long for this moment and I almost screwed it up over his interior decorating tastes.
"Sir." I say as I salute at attention and wait for further instruction.
I glance down at him when he doesn't acknowledge me and notice that he is hunched over some papers, his pen furiously writing on one of them. His body is tense and I can tell that he does not have much patience at the present time, so I wait at attention.
Almost five minutes pass before he stops moving his pen and delicately places it next to, rather than inside his pen holder. He laces his thin fingers together and slowly lifts his head to look me in the eye and when he finally does...
He flinches.
The reaction confuses me, but I dare not move in fear of some sort of retribution.
"At ease." He says and I let my hand drop as he rifles through the many papers in front of him before he adds, "I'm sorry. It's just that you look like someone I know."
I want to give him a impertinent look but seeing as he is the Director and I his new recruit, I do nothing more than shift my weight to the other foot.
"Not many pass that test you know." He says when he finds the paper he is looking for.
Thinking he is talking about the advanced hand to hand combat I demonstrated, but not completely sure I question him, "Sir?"
He glances up from his reading, "The patience test."
I want to scoff at him and clarify that I am one of the least patient people on earth, but I hold back the usually unrestrained urge and speak clearly, "Thank you sir."
He doesn't answer as he reads over his paper once more before putting it down and standing up. His steps are graceful as he walks to the front of his desk and by extension, in front of me before offering his hand. I look down at his hand in curiosity and back up to his aging face for an explanation.
"Welcome to project Freelancer Agent Texas."
Good? Bad? Should I even think about continuing this?
Please inform me of any mistakes :)