I Am Plague

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

"Take note, you will all need this information for the upcoming exams." Spoke the professor, who was writing furiously on the board. Even I had trouble keeping up with him, I could only imagine the trouble Cain was having. I glanced over at him, he was leaning back in his seat, his eyes were closed, and his arms were crossed over his chest. Was he seriously sleeping in class? This is college, not high school.

I rolled my eyes, despite him calling me a fool, I wasn't going to let him fail because he's to lazy to stay awake.

I kicked his chair, making him open his eyes and glare at me. "Pay attention." I mouthed, to which he mouthed back the words "I can't." and he pointed to his eyes.

I huffed and handed him my notes. I didn't realize how carelessly I gave them to him until after I did so. It was like I didn't have to think twice about it.

I'd give him all my hard work if he even slightly looked like he needed it.

He gave me a look as if he were surprised I would still help him, though he called me a textbook sheep. I couldn't be mad at him for it, I was a sheep, and, I am a coward. I don't care about discovery, I care about passing my classes.

I am a basic fool.

I began to rewrite the notes for myself, until the bell rung indicating class was over. Usually I wait for Cain. We'd walk the campus together until our next class, which was two hours away, but today, I was walking alone.

The snow had melted, spring has come, which means it's almost summer. I've been looking forward to summer since me and Cain had our argument. I spent the whole year obsessing over him that I dreaded going back home, thousands of miles away from him, but now, I was ecstatic. I miss my stupid step-brother, and his dramatic obsession with cars. I also miss my eccentric-and yet brilliant- step-father, though I wasn't really sure if he missed me or not.

I glanced up at the trees, finally, they were re-growing their leaves. It gave me a soft feeling inside, like finally things were starting over.

I took a deep breath, allowing the crisp, clean air to fill my lungs, and give me a limited feeling of joy.

I put my earphones in and clicked on my favorite song from my favorite band. I sat under a tree, not minding the bugs that were crawling about after the tremendously harsh winter.

I closed my eyes, and realized I was smiling to myself and that that is weird. I quickly stopped smiling, and allowed myself to drift off. I can't go to the dorm and sleep, Cain's chemicals give off a burning smell that makes me sick anyway.

I dreamt of Cain, once again pulling his arm out, and stabbing it with a syringe. I watched as he began to suffocate, practically choking on air. I ran over to him, his body fell to the floor, and I leaned over and held him in my arms I was crying, begging some nonexistent person to help him. To help me help him.

I was suddenly kicked awake by someone I didn't recognize at first, I was so shocked by my dream, reality wouldn't focus.

I looked up, pulling my earphones out. Standing before me was the dream's victim himself.

Cain.

"What do you want?" I croaked, as I had to blink a few times to really see him. I pretended to sound annoyed, but I was actually relieved to see him standing there, and not dying in my arms as he was in the dream.

"Are you really sleeping out here? You know your stuff could get stolen? Most these students are highschool failures from the ghettos of America."

I grabbed my book bag and kept a hand on it, "You're from the ghetto, Cain." I stated.

"Yeah," He said in a 'duh' tone, and held out a ten dollar bill that I realized was mine from my bag. "That's the point, genius."

I gasped and swiped the money from his hand, "You're one to talk, I had to kick you awake in class."

"I hate that class." He admitted, as he sat down beside me. I could see the pain he was in by how he struggled to even get onto the ground. With his joints so stiff, I couldn't imagine how much it hurts him.

And yet, he never complains.

"So why aren't you back at the dorm, slaving over your little laboratory?"

"I would be." He said casually, "If I wasn't so ignorant in technological studies."

I groaned, "Just read the book, literally everything you need is in it."

"It's not that easy."

"You're a genius in chemistry, and anatomy. You'll figure out the technological profession and master that too. I couldn't help sounding so bitter. It's not fair he is so smart and I've hardly the brain to pass my current classes.

"Studying technology is boring as hell."

"Then go join that anti-technology group down in Oregon. I hear the leader is a college student, maybe you'll finally meet someone as crazy as yourself."

He shrugged, "That's not where my soul lies."

I scoffed, "Right, your soul lies with chemically declining your health, I almost forgot."

His eyes narrowed, "You have to make sacrifices for the sake of discovery."

"You aren't going to discover anything if you put yourself into a coma, or maybe even get yourself killed."

"At least I'm doing something." He said, a bit too loud, gathering the attention from nearby students. He quickly lowered his tone, "I don't understand why you are so against it."

"You don't understand? What don't you understand? How could you not understand that it's torture to watch your friend slowly kill himself?"

"We all die eventually." He said, as if it were a valid argument.

I wanted to laugh, but I didn't have the stomach to do so, "So that's it? You're going to just keep injecting yourself until you die?"

"No, I'm going to keep injecting myself until it works."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then you can say 'I told you so'. I'll be nothing but a disgusting man, too stupid to make something out of my profession."

"That is not what I-"

"Goodbye, Ophelia." He said, as he stood up before I could stop him (which was surprising given his current physical situation). I watched him walk away. I couldn't help but feel angry at myself again for ruining the chance to mend our friendship. Clearly he came here to try and make amends, and again my mouth got the better of me.

I should just stitch it shut.

Irritated, I swung my book bag over my shoulder, and made my way to my next class which I was forty-five minutes early for. For the remaining time, I sat at my desk, and mentally insulted myself for once again verbally hurting the boy I have fallen in love with.