As the hall drains its occupants in rapid succession, rising cacophony of voices and footsteps rains upon you, beating down your hopes of being reunited with your bag. Taking careful steps beneath the ignorant outreachings of these monstrous students, you dodge incoming sneakers left and outgoing packs right. Dizzied, you stumble over to the nearest mammoth hide not in motion.
Falling on you arms, face first against dark green fabric, a familiar scent flows forth. The sweet sensation suppresses the hazardous surroundings, sparking a fragmented flashback, missing pieces to a familiar puzzle. A quake through the mountain, moves you to mind the ladder of a strap sewn with colorful pins of bold words, recognizable sequence retrieving seconds remembered.
Without hesitation, you begin climbing the metal bars breaking through the bulky band, repeating to yourself the name, "Nikki, Nikki, Nikki." Only ascending two rungs near the middle of the strap, you are surprised as a hand swoops beside you, grabbing belt beneath behemothic fingers with long, black nails. Exhilerated by the surging ascension, you use your empowered strength to hold on.
By now, most other students have left the testing chamber, a relief on your ears at this elevation. Nikki, a friend only of recent months since she transferred to this school, was always the straggler, but now your thankful she's not a stranger as you are lowered against her shoulder. She slips the strap from her hand, gravity dropping you down just below her shoulder and above her breast. The comforting scent seeps into you.
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