...What Say You Now...?
If the walls of the off-campus housing unit could talk, they would have many twisted, sordid tales to share. In its rich history, it had seen so many new residents; on average, its lease changed hands every couple of semesters. As for what the walls, door, and floors of the second story walk up went through...
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK; BANG, BANG, BANG!
The walls silently heaved with age and overabuse. A picture was being hung by yet another resident in the off-campus rental unit.
BLAM! BLAM! (pause) BLAM! BLAM!
Now the newest occupants were hanging a flag from the wall. All of the while as the new residents wouldn't quit hammering on the walls, they kept squealing, screeching, and giggling at one another to successfully outholler obnoxiously loud pop music. The hammering and the tools were almost the more comforting noise. Swell; the newest residents were sorority pledges; and they seemed to be young and immature first-year hopefuls.
Suddenly, there came the sound of a hammer hitting the bare linoleum kitchen floor. The walls (silently of course) wondered what the floor would have to say about that negligence. Then, suddenly, the over-produced teen pop racket abruptly stopped as well. If they could, the walls would have sighed in relief; except...
"PARTY TONIGHT, GIRLS!" clearly the ringleader of this pack of first-year coeds shrieked at such a decibel that she could have easily hollered over the music with no extra effort.
Three other voices (yes, there were four students) all shrieked their rapturous approval of the evening's house warming soiree. The walls could feel a brand new crack developing from the excess noise. Then, the quartet of girls ranging from 17 to 19 all clomped down the stairs together and...
...Certainly, the door had seen as much flagrant disregard and abuse over the years as the walls (let alone the floors) had. The girls were no sooner gone off on their outing than the AC kicked on in the late August early afternoon heat. The escape of the blast of air in the antique pipes caused the walls to heave and sigh once more. Perhaps a little maintenance (and a little more regard from residents) was in order. What if the walls, door, ad hominem could have been in a family home, not an off-campus rental property...?
Later that evening, the teen pop started blaring all over again. This time, the screeching and hollering was answered by masculine grunts of self-importance. The body of people gyrating around the living room/dining room of the rental unit would have been more appropriate for a much larger dance club with a much better sound and lighting system.
The girls had multiplied into girl and guy friends in the late hour; sorority sisters that the pledges wanted to impress, the boys that the girls really wanted to impress, and a few other friends from around campus. Bodies bounced up against the walls and floor all evening. Then, as the hour grew later, Alexia Anderson was escorted off to her own bedroom by her handsome escort...
The bedposts rattled against the walls over the din of quiet giggling and hushed whispers between the illicit couple while the party continued in full swing out in the dining area. The pair was alone; that was how Marcus liked it.
Then, suddenly, what was "fun" for both participants was no longer so fun for "Lexie" Anderson...
"No; stop; please." she pleaded in quiet discomfort.
Marcus was of no mind to pay attention.
"STOP!" Lexie repeated louder and more forcefully; then, when his intentions became more and more clear and Lexie felt more and more foolish: "PLEASE; HELP! SOMEBODY...!"
Marcus Silver had taken Lexie off to her own bedroom to claim his prize. If her walls could talk, man, would they have some stories to share...!
At some point during the party, first, one of Marcus's basketball teammates wondered where he was on behalf of one of the cheerleaders whom had asked about him. At the question about Marcus, Nicole Withers first realized that Lexie had been missing from their own party for a while as though...
Finally, Nicole got the bright idea to check Lexie's room and there lie Lexie and Marcus.
By all evidence, it looked like the couple had merely fallen asleep together and Nicole stepped out of the room and quickly closed the door, mortified. If Lexie's bedroom walls could talk, their story would be markedly different...
About the Creator
Smalltown guy from Southwest Michigan
Lifelong aspiring author here; complete with a few self-published works always looking for more.
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