Clutching The Darkness

Chapter 1: 'Our' Escape

Irony is a pain. It's one of those few things in life that can really stuff your face with the cruelness of the cosmos. Like for now; seeing as how last week I laughed internally at some colleague's stupid response to Professor Mills, only for in turn to me being the laughing-stock now, making the same blunder. I was terrible at economics, and my two years at Coolidge University had yet to ease me into the subject.

 But as for my peers, some snided in giggles between them, while the majority kept straight faces and disinterested glances; poker faces I was sure, masks hiding their inner laughter and judgement. When he occasionally extended his officer hours, I would go to Professor Mill and ask him for further explanations, and often throughout those sessions I'd spent with him, he would give me some bits and pieces of advice on life. Thinking back on it, I always found it odd that he would do such a thing. 

Did he pity me? Did he think I was that unable to care after myself when it came to day-to-day life? Or was that just his compassion, his educating and teacher-like nurturing side that came up? Either way, it always made me feel like he held some presumption about me in some manner. In a way, I appreciated him for his efforts though. He always tried to be friendly, regardless of my ineptitude. 

I was beginning to get tired, and in my drowsy state, I thought of going home and lying in bed, peacefully thinking of a personal closet of time and space, all of it allowing me to just relax. A place where I could unwind from the stresses of the world, the stresses of the people around me, and the growing concern that soon I could be out of a degree and a place to sleep. My scholarship would mean jack if I couldn't manage to pass my classes. Then, I'd truly be screwed.

If there was anything I loved about Noblesville, it was the view we had of the sun setting. Dusk and evening was always my favorite time of day, the sun ending in a wide spectacles of colors: from the orange to the reds to even the pink wings of a flamingo laying to roost on the horizon of the skies. It was peaceful, a peace that was so fulfilling yet lasted so short. Indiana is fairly cold, and that chilling air often formed a nice counterbalance to the warmth of the sun.

 The cold excited me and dragged me out of bed, giving me motivation— will to continue on with my life. If my mental closet or pocket dimension could allow me the liberty to choose what I would want, I suppose I'd like something similar to what I already have, just more permanent. But then the real world called to me. The vibrations of my phone began to ring out.

Exiting out of class, my face still boiling with the steam of shame from my mistake earlier, I looked to my phone. My eyes reflected off its surface, and in the glare of the hall lights, my face seemed distorted and shadowed out with the crude bending of my image. My eyes were glassy and black on the shine of the screen, like shards of obsidian rather than normal white scleras circling my irises. The more I looked at my reflection, the more subtly horrified I was. It was just an image, yet my face seemed malformed and uncanny, giving me the appearance of some special effects demon from a movie like Insidious or something.

The screen lit up again followed by another vibration. It was the group, their chat logs flooding and stressing my screen. My brain wringed with exhaustion from class, becoming even more tired after reading the play script of plans the girls had thought up of. Then Zay directly texted me.

My hands jittered a bit and I felt a slight unease grow itself throughout my chest. I swallowed. My eyes cringed a bit as I opened her message.

'Hey'

'Beni and I wanted the crew to meet up by Matty's'

'I wanted to know if you'd like to come?', -3:17pm 

I took a breath and closed my eyes. I pressed the button to shut my phone screen off, sliding my phone into my pocket. I reluctantly slung my bag over my shoulders, the weight of my books and notes dragging my body down. My skull and neck ached in similar fashion, my brain only further pulsating with fatigue at the thought of interacting with Zay again.