There was a guard stationed at the front of the looming dome where we were all lined up. At first, I couldn't see an entrance, but after the guard spoke into a device, which I presumed was a walkie-talkie, part of the dome slid open.

As we entered, we were each handed a visitor's ID and were advised to have it on us at all times.

We had quieted down with nervous anticipation and it felt like a thick veil of tension had fallen upon us. Something about the atmosphere inside was making my skin prickle. I felt reluctant to move a single finger, for I was afraid that an alarm would go off and hidden guards would rush in to drag me out. I was being irrational, wasn't I?

A man who seemed to be in his late fifties approached us.

"Welcome. I'm Dr. Kinsley, I will be your guide for this session." He spoke to our teacher in charge while swiftly scratching at his hairline and proceeding to remove the collected grease beneath his nail with his teeth.

Disgusting. This was so not what I expected a 'high-tech laboratory employee' to be.

We then started filing through the corridor with Dr. Kinsley leading us.

The air conditioner was on full blast, making me pull my jersey closer to myself. I felt rather disappointed. Everything looked the same; the walls painted the same steel gray in every room with the same aluminum tables and chairs and fluorescent lights. It seemed as though we had been passing through the same corridor repeatedly. If I ever got lost in here, I don't think I'd be able to find my way out.

Dr. Kinsley droned on regardless of the fact that many of us were uninterested. Every time he lifted his arms to point at something, I could see the dirty yellow patches of sweat in his armpits. Even his palms looked clammy. Sweat poured down his brow, which he kept swiping off, with his hand, onto his hair. That is when I realized that it wasn't gel that was glistening his hair, it was sweat. Disgusting!