It had been many weeks since I had last used my locker. I found out quickly that it was impractical, as most students preferred to carry around all their materials instead of dashing back and forth from their locker.

I don’t remember what I had left inside, but I knew that it was finally time to retrieve whatever leftover school supplies had been abandoned and left in the dark prison. As I walked toward my locker, I noticed that the air had changed. There was something sickly and sweet wafting down the hallway.

I sped up, hoping to outrun this smell, but ended up running towards the source instead. But I was a warrior, and I trudged on, using my sweatshirt sleeve to cover my nose. As I stood in front of my locker, my heart plummeted.

Either my or my neighbor’s locker was reeking of something ungodly, and I was frozen to the spot, scared of what I might discover. After fumbling with the lock for an unnecessary amount of time, my locker swung open and all that sat in the middle of it was the missing Tupperware I had lost at the beginning of the school year.

There, in the container, sat what remained of a ham and turkey sandwich. I immediately turned around, covering my eyes from the horror that sat before me. Without looking, I reached back for my now found Tupperware and ran to the nearest trash can. I slammed the container into the grey bin and sprinted away as my eyes watered from the odor.

Already, my locker had started to smell less and less like the forgotten sandwich of despair, and I realized that never again would I be returning to it, as my memories would forever be plagued from the unforgettable events that had taken place.