The Painted Locker

Lexile: 960 | Grade: 8

Passage

No one noticed the locker for years. It was locker 302, squeezed between two others at the far end of the eighth-grade hallway. Faded gray, dented near the handle, it had blended into the background like a forgotten shadow.

Then one Monday morning, it changed. The door was no longer dull. It was painted—bright orange with swirling vines in purple and green. In the center, a quote had been stenciled in white: 'Be your own kind of beautiful.'

By lunchtime, students were whispering. By dismissal, photos had made their way to social media. Teachers discussed it behind closed doors. The next morning, a note appeared on the locker: 'Repaint immediately. School property is not for personal use.'

But no one stepped forward to repaint it. Days passed, and still, the locker remained, glowing like a campfire at the end of the hall. Something about it felt untouchable.

Some said it was Maya. She was quiet, always sketching during lunch. Others guessed Emilio, who loved art but never followed the rules. But no one knew for sure, and no one confessed.

Eventually, the principal stopped mentioning the locker. Students started walking past it more slowly. Some even decorated their notebooks with similar vines or added quotes to their backpacks.

The locker had stopped being a mystery. It had become something else—a statement, a mirror, maybe even a spark.