Time for the story to properly start, beginning with Scarlett's arrival at Vaillancourt Juvenile Asylum. Chapters will probably be longer from now on, as there is more to go over in each one.
The truck starts pulling into a building of considerable size largely devoid of colour. Entering the indoor parking lot, I see the name of this establishment for the first time.
Its name is Vaillancourt Juvenile Asylum. The word Vaillancourt is a French surname with a topographical origin, meaning low-lying farm. This must have originated from the founder of the asylum.
The driver of the truck parks at an empty space on the far side from the entrance. He gets out with another man who was in the other front seat, and said man opens one of the back doors and reaches for me.
"Don't touch me, peon!"
"I have to get you out of here and into the asylum, and we can't have you running off, can we?" Truth be told, I wasn't expecting a response as casual as that; that somewhat helped with my nerves.
"Maybe we can. I'd prefer that from being locked up against my will in there." I point to the building. The man begins to laugh. He actually laughs, like I told the most amusing wisecrack ever heard by human ears. He doesn't even sound like he's faking it.
"Are you finished with your immature, poorly-timed bout of cachinnation yet?"
"Huh? Ah, sorry about that, I got a bit carried away." I rolled my eyes at that, something I do way too often because of people being morons.
"Anyway, I need to take you inside, ma'am, and I don't want to use physical force." So he does take his job seriously after all. I let out a long sigh of succumbing and decide to cave in. I am still in my restraints after all, so if I did try to escape I probably wouldn't make it far.
"Ok, I relent." Saying that destroys my ego, but I really see no other option. Maybe I could figure something out when I get in.
"Great! I'll just lead you to the sign-in desk so we can find you a cell." This is reminding me more of a hotel than an asylum, something seems off about this place. Perhaps it's simply employing some psychological trick to let my guard down. It could be possible I'm overthinking everything like I usually do, but I'll remain on the qui vive for now.
The man leads me into the achromatic building. I am immediately greeted with the sight of a long, burgundy hallway lined with dim fluorescent lights. Strangely, there are no doors that fork off of the hallway, the only way is forward.
After we walk for approximately 39 seconds, the end of the hallway comes into sight. It's the first door I've seen since the entrance. The man opens the door for me since I can't use my arms in the restraints. My body feels like it's being compressed by a boa constrictor; I wouldn't be surprised if half of it was mauve and sore by the time they're removed.
As we traipse into the room behind the door, I immediately catch sight of several people. Most of these people I presume to be fellow inmates of this asylum, as the majority of them don't appear to be in a right state of mind. All of them are wearing strange, blue and green striped outfits, which I deduce to be some sort of uniform. While I am definitely not as into fashion as most women my age, even I can tell that these uniforms would be considered a "Fashion Disaster" by a professional.
The only person not wearing these poor excuses for clothes is a middle-age woman, most likely in her early forties. She is sitting behind a mahogany desk, with papers and other usual office supplies scattered untidily atop it. This clutter makes me physically sick, I tolerate no less than a spotless work environment so that no distractions are present.
The man walks towards the woman's desk with me in tow and starts talking to her.
"Hey Rachael, I got Scarlett Cyr here, that girl who tried to blow up an island on Total Drama."
"I already have files on Scarlett, you don't have to tell me who she is, Davon." She turns towards me, seemingly gripping onto something I can't quite see.
"Ok, Davon here will shortly be taking you to your cell, where you will live with four other members of Vaillancourt Juvenile Asylum." Ugh, I'll have to live with people with psychological trauma and questionable mental states, this could prove quite unsafe. I guess my time on Pahkitew Island turned out to not be a complete waste of time after all, half of the imbeciles there would fit right in here.
"We'll provide a uniform in your size sometime tomorrow, and you will be given a schedule for activities that you can participate in here. Some are mandatory though." Activities? What does she mean by that? I have a very strong feeling I should be wary of this place.
"Ok, that's everything I need to tell you right now. Davon, lead Scarlett to room 3CJ." Davon tells me to follow him, and I comply, because I still see no convenient methods of escape. We start walking towards a door on the north - or right - side of the room, when I hear Rachael call out to me again.
"Wait! I almost forgot to tell you, but your room will have something familiar to you in it. It's to help with settling in." Like that wasn't obvious. I do wonder what this familiar thing could be though. Perhaps my chemistry set? No, they wouldn't let me get my hands on that. Some of my furniture? That would most certainly be familiar to me, but I doubt they would make the effort to do something like that. I'll know for certain when I get there, and that shan't be too long.
After that interruption, Davon turns back around and starts leading me to my predetermined living quarters. The walk is awkward and silent, but I don't want it any other way. We reach a tall stairwell, with tall, blue gates preventing anyone from jumping off of them. On the climb up, I notice a couple inmates loitering; they both turn to see me with starstruck expressions. Do they recognise me from Total Drama? I hope not, that would be a catastrophe.
Once we reach the fourth floor, Davon takes me to a wide hallway marked with a large capital C. This is probably the most variegated part of the asylum I've been to so far, although that isn't exactly an accomplishment. The walls of the hall are a vivid orange, with multiple lavender lines in a sine wave pattern. The corridor is situated with doors facing opposite from each other every fifteen metres or so. Several more seconds of silent sauntering go by until Devon suddenly stops.
"Ok Scarlett, we're here, this is your room. Your roommates are Susan Lee, Maximillian Goodwin, Graham Oleszczak, and Paula Hernandez." Maximilian? No, the chances of it being him are ridiculously small. I could probably calculate the probability if I was in almost any other situation. Other than that, none of the names stick out to me too much. I try to scratch my arm, when I remember that I am trapped in restraints. These need to come off as soon as possible.
"When am I getting out of these restraints? I don't think my legs are receiving enough oxygen."
"Oh, right! I'll take that off, then head straight into your room, no doing anything out of line." Devon reaches towards my back and fiddles with the restraints. After a few seconds, they fall off of my body. The amount of release I feel is like I'm in heaven. I usually wouldn't make a comparison like that, but I feel like it's the only way I can get across how amazing the feeling truly is.
Devon takes a keyring out of his pocket and fiddles with it for a couple seconds, probably trying to find the key to my room. He swiftly does and unlocks the door. I mentally prepare myself for this new life inside of an asylum I shouldn't even qualify for, and to greet my new roommates. I pray to Isaac Newton that they don't turn out to be insufferable.
I open the door to my room, and am met with a tiny hallway with five doors in it, one for each person. I knock on the first one on my left to ask whomever is inside about my living conditions.
"What do you want?" That sounds like him. That actually sounds like Max. There's still no way that's him, though, that would just be too improbable.
"I just arrived here, I want to know which room is unoccupied."
"Scarlett?! Is that you?"
No. No no no no please tell me I'm having some sadistic nightmare. This can not be happening! I can not live with this dolt any longer, I need to get out! Damn you, Isaac Newton!
Scarlett and Max have just begun their first interaction, and it looks like Scarlett isn't taking their reunion well. What will Max's thoughts be on all of this? You'll have to wait until next time. If you have any feedback or general praise, please leave a review.