The Institution

Chapter 2: Continued...

When Arthur left the dorm later that evening to go and get dinner I didn't follow him this time. Instead I snacked on the peanut butter and bread that I'd bought at the grocery store earlier and watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer on my computer.

I should probably mention here that I'm terrified of scary things. Books, T.V. shows, movies, you name it. The last time I went to see a scary movie in the theater it was The Haunting in Connecticut and I was so scared during the film that I ran out of the movie theater halfway through to be sick out in the hallway. This was several years ago and I still have nightmares about it. So you shouldn't be too surprised to learn that some of the scarier scenes of Buffy sent me into a fit. By the time I finished the episode I was sweating, so much that I was drenched. I felt really thirsty, so I drank a lot of water. Then I needed to pee but I couldn't talk myself into getting up out of the safety of my blankets to go to the bathroom. I swore the shadows were moving and I felt like there was something watching me.

I was working myself up into quite a state by the time Arthur returned from dinner. He threw open the door in his usual fashion and I jumped so violently that he stared at me. I really wish he would stop doing that by the way. I don't like being stared at, but for some reason people seem to do it all the time. I'm not a fricken museum artifact. I'm not here for you to stare at me, so just stop already.

"What's wrong with you?" Arthur asked accusingly.

I wanted to tell him about my fear of the dark, but I was sure that Arthur would just laugh at me. So instead I just said, "Nothing."

Arthur quirked an eyebrow but he didn't say anything. He just climbed onto his own bed and pulled his laptop back onto his stomach. He stuck his earbuds into his ears and began to surf the web.

Is it bad that I wished Arthur would talk to me? All at once I felt an unexpected pang of loneliness and there was this hollow feeling in my chest. And all of the sudden I felt like I was about to cry. Unnerved and unsure of where these feelings were coming from, I quickly dragged myself off my bed and to my feet. I hurried to the door and slipped out into the hallway before Arthur could catch a glimse of my face.

The hallway was dark and the shadows were deep, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching me as I hastened toward the bathroom. I did my business first and then took a moment to collect myself in the bathroom mirror above the sinks. I splashed some cold water on my face and shook my head to clear the tight feeling behind my eyes.

"Get a grip on yourself," I told my reflection sternly. "College freshman don't cry."

I'm not usually a crier, but when I do get emotional I'm the type of person who likes to emote in peace. I almost never cry in front of other people, unless that person is my mom. I learned this lesson the hard way back when I was in middle school. It was during Physical Education class when Austin the bully threw a basketball at my face and it hit me in the nose. I thought my nose had broken; there was blood everywhere and I was in so much pain I couldn't see. I started crying and the P.E. teacher took me to see the school nurse. After that incident, people started calling me Baby Ethan.

I didn't want to give Arthur an excuse to call me Baby Ethan, so it was only when I was satisfied there was no trace of redness around my irises that I returned to our room.

Arthur was busy listening to his music and paid me no mind. I climbed back up onto my bed and slipped my feet under the covers. I laid down and reached over to turn off the bedside lamp. The room plunged into darkness.

The only light was coming from Arthur's laptop screen. My roommate didn't seem to care that the room was dark, and I was relieved when he didn't complain about it. I wasn't really that tired, but I figured I might as well go to sleep; I had my first ever college classes tomorrow morning and it would be better if I was rested for them. I closed my eyes and was able to doze off within minutes.

Movement roused me a few hours later. The room was still dark, but I could see Arthur's silhouette padding across the room. His shadow went over to his desk and in my sleepy confusion I heard him pick up his lanyard and pull on his shoes.

I glanced at the clock on my bedside table. It was three o'clock in the morning.

"Where are you going?" I called, my voice still thick with sleep.

Arthur jumped slightly- I don't think he realized that I was awake.

"Nowhere," he said shortly. He crossed the room and slipped out the door. He shut it quietly behind him.

There was something distinctly fishy about this, I decided, as I crawled out of bed. I padded across the room and eased the door open. I poked my head around the corner just in time to see his heels whipping out of sight through the door at the end of the hall that leads to the stairwell.

Where on Earth could Arthur be going at this time of night? Upstairs to meet a girl, perhaps? To the basement to meet a shady drug dealer?

I fought with myself for the briefest of moments before I darted down the hallway after him. I'm not quite sure what possessed me to want to follow him, but it was probably one of those stupid things I was talking about earlier. All I knew for sure was that Arthur wouldn't be bringing any drugs into the dorm room if I had anything to say about it.

He wasn't going to get drugs. I found out later, after I had knocked him headfirst down the staircase and he shouted at me some more, that he was just going down to the basement to get his clean laundry from the laundry room.

Which brings us back to how I ended up here, sitting on the floor of the cold concrete stairwell of my new dorm room in the middle of the night. I really do need to start watching where I put my feet.

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