Diary, C.M. Pine
July 21, 2012
Two nights ago we decided to spice life up a bit for the children. They have been here so long without their parents, and it is beginning to wear on them terribly. So, to take their minds off the cares of being alone for a little while longer, some of the other students and I decided to have us all raid the kitchen.
This was a much greater ordeal and adventure than I had planned, but one I am well glad we completed. It began after the sun had long set. It is typical for us to tell the kids stories before they sleep. Some of us tell stories we knew as children. I tell stories of adventure of my own making. I love to tell them. To hold so many minds in rapture, away from the world is truly a wonderous experience. However, I begin to come off the subject.
After the story and the lights out, I whispered to the children our plan. The sudden burst of excitement was only barely contained enough to preserve the secrecy we needed not to alert any of the professors. After that, we had only to remind them of our “danger” to get them silent.
We moved quickly, dodging through the least used corridors I could think of to gain access to the kitchen. We were nearly caught by Professor Angle, but I managed to stay far enough ahead of the group to stop us before disaster struck. We waited patiently in the dark for what seemed like an eternity, but was perhaps no more than half a minute, before Professor Angle finished his journey up a nearby set of stairs. After that we proceeded with even more caution.
The real trouble began at the kitchen itself. We expected it to be entirely empty, however we found that the cook and her assistants were still inside, doing I have not the slightest clue what. We then had to develop a secondary plan on the spot. This involved a great deal more sneaking around than we had anticipated. It was decided that I and Paul, one of the other students helping in the endeavor, would sneak carefully into the kitchen and take as much food out as we could until each child had a portion. Several times I was nearly caught myself and had to keep from laughing at just how ridiculous the little project had become.
Just when all the kids had begun to eat the snack we had brought them, Professor Garrel came up to the group. We froze. He gazed at us all, children with food half-way to their mouths, “Any left for me?” he said, eyes twinkling with the childish naughtiness so many of us have forgotten. We of course, gave him a portion of our fare and ate with smiles all the more wide. We managed to sneak back to the sleeping area without incident and sleep with bellies full and minds full of our adventure. I pray to God that it will be enough to get them through the next week. From what I have heard, they will be free to return home then. God willing.