Jack in the Box Read Free

me the gun, notebook, and pen. "You left these here. Try not to do that."
                  "Thanks." I took the items and placed them under my chair.
                  "Did you enjoy your breakfast?" He asked me.
                  "Yeah, a lot. . . How did I get back in here?"
                  I figured out that this guy frowned whenever I asked questions. “There’s certain questions that I just can’t answer, Jack.”
                  "So, if I'm supposed to catch you, why are you in here?"
                  "You are not allowed to attempt the task during meal hours. We all need to eat, Jack."
                  "Okay." I examined his face. "Okay. . . Brian."
                  He looked at me with a confused look. "What?"
                  "That's my name for you. You made a name for me, so I've made a name for you. Brian."
                  He looked down for a second. He looked back up again and said casually, "Okay, that's fine, Jack."
                  "Did you already have your breakfast?"
                  "Yeah," Brian replied. "You were out cold. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I had mine an hour ago.
                  I drank the last of my orange juice. "Can I ask you a question?"
                  "Just did. Will that be all?"
                  "I’m serious. Why won't you tell me what's going on here?"
                  "You're not allowed to know. Well, that’s technically not true. You are. But I'm not the one allowed to tell you. Once - that is, if - you find out, some answers will come."
                  "Then how do I find out?"
                  "It's all part of the test."
                  The test. He said it with seriousness. As if it were some official title.
                  "And the test is to catch you." I looked up at him for confirmation.
                  "Right you are, Jacky. Speaking of which, it's about time for me to head on out." He walked over to a door, the same door he went through the day before. It was to the right of my bed. "See you back here at lunch."
                  "And when is that?" I asked, already anticipating that he would not answer.
                  "Noon." He walked through the door and closed it behind him.
                   He answered? Sweet! Wait . I looked around the room. No clock . How do I know when noon is ? "Great, thanks." I put the pen in the left pocket of my jeans and the notebook in my back pocket on the right side. I left the gun on the bed. I di d no t want to use that thing. I opened the door, walked into the next room, and closed the door. He wasn't there. Of course. I wondered how I would be able to even find him, much less catch him. I thought about what he had told me the day before.
                  Each door leads to a different room. You may not mark a door, you may not break a door, you may not leave a door open after entering.
                  Was he lying? Were they really all different? Because every room pretty much looked the same to me. The only one that was different was my bedroom, but that was just because of what the room contained. What about marking a door? Would I get in trouble for breaking his “rules”?
                  I looked at the door in front of me, across from the door I had just entered through. I took out the notebook and pen. I drew several squares on the first paper. In the center square, I put an H for “Home.” That marked my bedroom. Now what? I couldn’t make any room distinguish itself from another. I sat down. I don’t know why, but I felt as though life was being pulled out of me. I shouldn’t have already been feeling tired. I had just gotten up a few minutes before then. I got back up. Willed myself to move. I looked back