((hhEY
Sorry in advance for the shitty self promotion, but it would mean a lot to me if the people who are readjng this checked out my oneshot book!
Maybe I'll turn some other oneshots into stories if you like them a lot. Or make second parts.))

A month.
They've been behind white walls for a month.
Not Tom had counted the number of times that the mundane routine had been repeated, and they had all been here for 32 days without a whiff of freedom. He was getting really sick of eating porridge and mashed potatoes.
Not Tom thought that it was about time that the 5 of them tried to escape from the horrible white room. They wouldn't be of any use, rotting away in here anyways. It was time for a change.
The Brit was sure that doing the same thing, day in day out, was very unhealthy for anyone, and he was sure that the others knew it too. Hell, without Tomatoredd he would have lost his mind in this place. He was thankful that he had someone to keep him sane.
After a lot of thinking, Not Tom decided that he would share his plan for freedom with the rest of the rejects.
He was up early, before the lights turned on in the room. In the time he stayed waiting for the others to wake up, he ran over his plan again. It just needed a little fine tuning, and maybe he could get help from the others.
The man with the eyepatch (Realistic Matt told him this was Larry) came down soon, and served them the sludge he dared to call a meal. Everyone rejected it except for Scribble, who happily stuffed the porridge into his mouth.
"You guys will get hungry sooner or later," Larry said, walking back to the ladder and climbing up. He pulled the ladder up with him once he was out of the room.
Come to think of it, Not Tom hadn't eaten anything in about 4 days. But he didn't feel hungry; in fact, the thought of having to eat that mush made him feel queasy. He thought that soon enough, when they were free, they would be able to eat something other that what they fed the rejects here.
Once his thoughts realigned themselves, he remembered his plan. He was going to tell the other rejects all about it once it was dull hours, to make sure that the creators wouldn't hear them.
Once Scribble had finished 3 bowls of porridge, and everyone was sitting in their corners looking extremely bored, Not Tom decided it was the perfect time to tell the others about escaping the room.
He stood up and looked around, then cleared his throat loudly.
This made the rest of the rejects look up at him with a curious expression.
"Do you guys...like it here?" The Brit asked.
The other four exchanged glances with each other before shaking their heads.
"So you want to leave, correct?" He asked again.
They all nodded.
"What's your point?" Torm spoke bitterly, as per usual.
"My point is, I think we should try to..." Not Tom hesitated a bit, and lowered his voice,
"Escape."
Everyone's eyes widened.
"E-Escape..?" Tomatoredd stuttered.
"Bah. Impossible. There's no doors in this room, believe me,"  said Torm.
"Listen, I know it seems impossible, but if we just put our heads together maybe we can all make it out of here in one piece!" Not Tom said.
"We don't even know what's outside of these four walls," Realistic Matt piped up.
"whAt iF!!! WE BrEAK FourTH waLL????" Scribble exclaimed.
"Scribble, he said 'four walls'. Besides, we can't break the fourth wall because it would scare the readers," Not Tom explained.
"What?" Asked Torm.
"Anyways, just hear me out. You guys want to get out of here, do you not?"
Once again, the other four rejects exchanged glances.
Torm sighed. "Alright, what do you have in mind?"

- - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - -

Not Tom and the rest of the rejects spent the rest of the dull hours tailoring his plan, so they could finally get out of there.
Realistic Matt remembered where the cloning machine was, and where Bing's office was, since he was taken into an elevator to room 64. He said that there were at least 5 floors in this building, and they were below the basement. They would have to go through 2 floors to get to the ground floor.
Tomatoredd, Scribble and Torm were escorted from the cloning room to this room but foot, so they all remembered was the path looked like. And surprisingly, Scribble, out of all of the clones, had photographic memory, so he told them all what the hallways looked like.
On this floor, it was the janitors closet, and reject rooms 50-65
On the floor above, it was the washrooms, and reject rooms 30-49
The ground floor held the lounge, Bing's office, and the kitchen.
The cloning room was on the second floor.
Based on this information, Not Tom was able to draw out a map of the building based on the floors they have all been on.
"This place sure is big..." Not Tom mumbled. He had only seen a bit of it, from when he was dropped into the room 64 by the big claw.
"Wait...if we're in reject room 64, and there are more reject rooms, that must mean there are more people like us..." Realistic Matt pointed out.
"Well, that's if they haven't died, or if Bing and Larry haven't killed them off yet," Torm said with a dry laugh.
Once he noticed the horrified look of Scribble's face, he instantly regretted being so pessimistic. "O-Or maybe they escaped, and are happy and free and are not dead,"
"Why would that matter to us though?" Not Tom asked.
"Th-They would b-be...a-all alone h-here.." Said Tomatoredd. "They would w-waste away.."
"Yeah, yeah, calm your many feelings. It's not like we'd have enough time to set them all free. We'r trapped here too!" Said Torm.
"WE?? baD PEopLES IF WE no heLP?" Scribble asked.
"Of course not Scribs...maybe one day we can come back to save the others, but right now we have to focus on getting out of here ourselves," Realistic Matt said. "And plus, we don't even know if there are any others. All the other reject rooms could be empty,"
"That is a possibility..." Not Tom mumbled while rubbing his chin. "So for the time being, let's focus on getting out of here ourselves. Bing and Larry brought us into this life and could probably take us out of it, so we need to be careful not to be caught. Having a whole herd of rejects tracking behind us could put us in danger," he said.
"WhEN?? WE LeaVE???" Scribble asked Not Tom, tugging on his sweater a little bit.
"Today, as soon as the lights go out," Not Tom answered.
And now, they wait...

((How are you liking the story so far?))