COLD. That’s what ARAMINTA thought. It was April according to the date on the computer and weather reports she sought specified a chilly next few days. Araminta put the computer on the ground to her left side and got up from under the comforter, crawled to the end of the bed, grabbed one of the folded blankets and laid it out before settling back under. She grabbed the laptop and pulled it back onto her lap.
A noise from outside made her snap her head in the direction of the door. She shook it out, knowing it was probably a squatter looking for a place to crash. Araminta’s current residence was a condemned school. The site of a clash between military and super-criminals. It was closed down, sectioned off with many locals temporarily relocated as tests were made to determine if any hazardous gases and materials infected the area. When tests came back negative the locals returned and debated in city council over the next several months on what to do with the property. With no decisions made the school has remained condemned, making it a perfect home for Araminta with its running water and working electricity.
The room Araminta claimed was on the second floor of the main building. She chose this room because one staircase was mostly crushed plus a few holes in the ground and the bits of debris on the second floor made for dangerous navigating. Araminta made it a little slice of home with a bed, a lamp, a microwave, laptop, books, and other stolen goods. The room itself was nothing out of the ordinary. White walls, tiled ceiling, hard floor, empty blackboard, three large windows shut with blinds down and the teachers desk.
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