It was October 22, 2018, when the graffiti on the walls were discovered. It was big and quite bold of them to come up there and write such absurd and inappropriate things. But drawing male genitals on the door to a room where children learn every day, is nothing to be proud of. Soon after the discovery, the door was painted over, showing no signs of any activity in the past or the drawings that had been drawn on it. It was March 24, 2014, when I cheated on a test. To be precise, though, I didn’t cheat, but I did help supply the answers to one of my close friends. When young, people are very innocent and so was I, fakely believing that since I was helping out one of my friends, I was doing the right thing. So when he looked over at me with his pleading eyes and held up a four, I convinced myself it was the right thing to do and signalled back an 8. And that was that. That day passed, and all the events that had happened on that day were covered by a big blanket in our minds, not unlike the bright blue paint that covered the door to the M.U. It hung there, our conscience telling us it was the wrong thing to do, but we forged on until we died, holding those secrets.