[NaNoWriMo] Diagnosis

[Aex]

I don’t suppose you’d care to hear a confession, would you? Is it odd that I ask such a thing to paper and ink? Maybe a part of me is expecting this journal of mine to answer. Maybe another part of me hopes that someone else will read these words someday.

But I’m getting behind myself. My confession, now. I don’t think I’ve mentioned this before. Not to you; certainly not to anyone in person. On the good days – when I wake up with a clear head and a steady train of thought – I often choose not to take the medication.

I can think of so many reasons I shouldn’t, but they never stop me. I’ve been told they help me think rationally. But I’m on them now and I’m thinking rationally, aren’t I? And in this supposedly rational state of mind, I can understand why I hate taking them. I understand just as well why I should take them.

It just feels like I’m saying I was wrong when I denied it at first. It’s still hard to grasp. I don’t want to believe it. Finding fault in myself has never been something I was good at. I had trouble in high school because I couldn’t take my coach’s constructive criticism. Imagine how hard it was for me to accept that I was born with such a problem.

I’m not even sure I like thinking rationally all that much. My mother would argue that my medication (God bless its soul, she’d say) lets me live a normal life. Personally, I don’t think my life was all that abnormal before. I’m still not convinced that there was anything wrong, to tell the truth. What’s to say I’m not taking the drugs for nothing and that my problem wasn’t an imaginary one?

Don’t worry, though. I wouldn’t write an entry with nothing but my dislike of medication and self doubt to talk about. I talked with Elizabeth recently. I met her at the supermarket. I miss her, but it’s just nice seeing her. While we were speaking, though, I couldn’t help but notice that she was looking at me different. She always does. Whether it’s because of the medication or the knowledge itself, I can’t be sure.

Anyway, it’s getting rather late. I’ve got some chores to do and then I should probably be getting to bed. I’ll write again when I’ve got something I feel I need to say.

As always, Lewis Norton.

He couldn’t help but sigh as he closed the book. He’d read over his writing to make sure it said what he wanted it to. He’d given the impression that it was for his eyes only, but he knew quite well that such wasn’t the case. He wasn’t sure whether it was Doctor Libman’s idea or if his mother had suggested it. It didn’t really make a difference. It just mattered that his mother managed to slip the book out of his apartment as usual.

His journal was an excellent way of communicating. He could tell them what he wanted and how he felt without them thinking he wanted them to know. He honestly did dislike the meds. Dr. Libman knew that. He would’ve bet that he already knew he avoided them on some days, too.

Maybe if the doctor knew that he didn’t take them when he was supposed to, he’d try to find something else to give his patient. Some kind of therapy that would rid him of what he assumed were personality quirks mistaken for a disorder.

And he said in the entry that he wasn’t sure he even had a disorder to begin with. That was a blatant lie. He was quite sure he didn’t. That wasn’t something he could admit to himself with any type of ease. He’d become a little melancholy since his high school years, perhaps. His life had grown stressful, though, he told himself. Being a teacher wasn’t always an easy task.

Maybe he’d acted a little odd at times. He could remember a certain incident in university. But one drunken phone call was hardly enough to earn the attention of a psychiatrist, was it? Either way, the medication wasn’t hurting him. It calmed him down a bit; put a slight damper on the eccentric personality he’d displayed through high school. But it put his mother’s mind at rest, so he put up with it.

Lewis looked up from the counter and around his apartment. The light from the lamp beside him illuminated the otherwise dark room. As much as he would’ve liked to, he couldn’t go to bed. Oh no. At nine o’clock it was still far too early for that.

After gently pushing his journal aside, he reached for his bag and pulled out a small pile of papers. Looking at the top paper didn’t exactly make him feel any better about the task. “The life of a teacher,” he said with a frown. “Never glamorous and rarely rewarding.”

It took him nearly an hour and a half to get through the first half of tests. He knew he shouldn’t have pushed them to Sunday evening, but he was glad that he didn’t have to hand them back until the next afternoon.

He hadn’t always wanted to be a teacher. He was only just out of high school when he realized that such a profession – which most swear off after the first week or two of middle school – might actually be convenient, doable, and tolerable, oddly enough.

Without a second thought, he would have gladly gone back in time to smack himself in the face. Eleven years after that fateful decision, he was living in an apartment and correcting grammar. Perhaps it was more because he didn’t feel like buying a house just for himself.

At one point, he had plans for a family. But as he’d come to discover, things change. No point in dwelling, he’d begun to tell himself.

He put the rest of the tests back into his bag, always careful not to crumple the paper, and stood from his stool. Almost half past ten. He had to be up at six, so it was about time he got to bed.

As he grabbed himself a glass of water, he shook a pill bottle on top of his microwave. The scarce contents rattled faintly. In another day or two, he’d need to get the container refilled. In the meantime, however, he wouldn’t be taking anymore than he needed to.

After one last trip around the apartment to check on all the doors and windows, he was off to get ready for bed. He stepped into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. Looking at himself in the cupboard mirror, he wondered if the following week might be better than the last.

He ran his fingers through his short brown hair, peeling the stubborn strands from his forehead. His eyes looked into their parallels. As he stared blankly into the mirror, he saw a hint of movement behind him. Perhaps it was because he didn’t have his glasses, but it looked like the shower curtain was moving. He turned around and looked at it. It was still.

Curiosity got the better of him. He walked over and opened the shower curtain, finding nothing. There was only a grimy tub and a shower mat. Over the years, he’d gotten accustomed to such occurrences. Little movements out of the corner of his eye; sometimes in clear sight.

Deciding it would be best to simply retreat to the warmth and security of his bed, Lewis walked to the door of the bathroom, took one last look at the shower curtain, and closed the door. That was one of his odd quirks. He couldn’t stand open doors. He would walk by and see something moving inside, only to discover that it was completely empty.

Lewis walked down the hallway, tracing his finger along the wall as he went. He was starting to feel sad. It was almost as if a dark gloom had hovered over his head. It happened often at night. He usually knew it was time for bed when it seemed the beauty of the stars became overwhelmed by the sorrow of a darkened sky.

The drowsy man sat down on his bed and took off his glasses. Beside his bed sat a small table covered with pictures and a lamp. He picked up one of his favourite pictures and stared at it for a long while.

In that picture (which had been on that tabletop for nearly three years) stood a younger Lewis Norton and a beautiful Elizabeth Rupert. His arm was around her shoulder and her head against his. It was taken in the fall as a few stray leaves fell behind them.

That picture had long been his favourite. He’d said so since before it had been developed. She agreed, of course. It seemed incredible that two people could be so in love one day and then torn apart the next by the most trivial of things.

Losing her was easily the worst thing that had happened when he was diagnosed with his supposed illness. If he had denied it – if he hadn’t gone along with it simply because his mother was hell bent on it – would things have gone differently? Would she have believed him? Would she have stayed?

Lewis crawled into bed and put the picture back on the bedside table. It felt so good to just fold himself into a ball under the covers. It was so warm and relaxing. It was easily the best part of the day, he always told himself. And then sleep was even more soothing still. The feel of heavy eyes gently disappearing as sleep worked its magic.

He turned off the light and closed his eyes. Sleep came within minutes. Meanwhile, down the hall and behind a closed door slept a disturbing nothingness. Inside that bathroom which he’d just left, there was complete silence. Where he thought he’d seen movement, there was none. There was nothing there. There never had been.

Word count - 1689

[Aex]

“Mr. Norton!” Lewis looked up from his desk. His eyes gazed lazily over the classroom. He should’ve recognized the voice, but his head was light and his focus elsewhere. The unsure pair of eyes eventually fell on a young Sarah Carver. He smiled. She was a good student, he remembered. Or, perhaps it wasn’t her. No, he assured him. She was top of his English class. He was almost positive.

“Yes, Sarah?”

“Um, I have a question. When you gave us the comma usage list on Friday, it mentioned sequence. How come some writers choose to omit the commas when they have three or more things in a list?”

Lewis considered the question. He knew the answer. One would think that answering the question of a fifteen year old concerned with comma usage would be easy, but the words simply wouldn’t come. Lewis felt dizzy. Maybe he hadn’t slept enough the night before. Additionally, he’d gone through lunch correcting tests. That might have done it.

“Some writers take certain liberties,” he said, sounding oddly unsure of himself. “Using ‘and’ multiple times in a sequence is often thought… eloquent or… poetic. Yes, ‘poetic’ would be a good way to describe it, I think. Don’t worry, though, Sarah. I’m not expecting any of you to be poetic.”

The girl nodded and Lewis went back to his thinking. He’d get more sleep, he promised himself. In the meantime, he needed to get back to what he’d been doing before. That was a good question, though. What had he been doing before? Reading something? He didn’t have a book with him. Correcting something? No papers. On his computer? No programs open.

“Mr. N,” called David, a young boy at the back of the class.

“What is it, David?”

“This isn’t going to be for homework, is it?”

“Not if you finish it, no,” he told the boy, not entirely sure what he was referring to. He was too exhausted to remember what they were working on. Something left over from Friday, but exactly what escaped him.

“Oh, come on,” whined Matt. He was sitting beside David, obviously not doing the work he didn’t want for homework. “We’ve got a game and then an awards presentation after school. Cut us a break just this once?”

It was tempting. They did usually work quite well. Perhaps they could grow a little loud at times, but they were a good bunch.

“Alright, but I’ll have you all make up for it tomorrow,” he told them with a grin. There were no complaints.

The class went back to their work while their teacher tried to get a bit of work done on his computer. He couldn’t keep his attention on one thing for long, though. He’d given up trying for several minutes when a knock came on the door. Lacking enthusiasm as always, none of his students bothered to look up.

He stood up, taking a look around the white classroom to make sure everyone was still working. They weren’t, of course. The rare few had their heads in a book and a few others were jotting things down. Lewis thought for a second that maybe he wasn’t doing such a good job of teaching them.

He reached the door to the classroom and peered through the window. His eyes widened. After stepping outside the room and closing the door, he tapped his foot impatiently. He and his best friend were the only ones in the hallway.

“What’re you doing here, Kyle?” His friend smiled broadly at him. He was the kind of guy people wanted to hang out with at parties. Loud, humourous, and contagious, he unfortunately wasn’t the type of person you wanted to visit you in the middle of sixth period English.

Kyle slapped him on the shoulder and bellowed, “I came to see my best buddy. I figured you’d be needing a happy, post pubescent face right about now. Besides, I haven’t seen you in a while. You’re never free anymore.”

Lewis frowned. “Well, we’ll do something this afternoon. I’ll make some time. But you have to leave. I can’t be talking to friends while I have a class.”

Rolling his eyes, Kyle took a peek in the window. “Alright, then. How about supper, then? I’ll call you and we can go grab something to eat. Some steak, maybe. Anyway, get back to teaching your class, Mr. Teacher.”

“Right. Call me sometime after four, then.” Kyle nodded and walked off down the hallway. Never was there a bolder man. He walked into the school like he owned it and walked out the same way. Sometimes Lewis wished he could be like that.

He had no time to think of such things, though. He still had thirty minutes of a class to teach. Lewis stepped inside and had to explain to his students why he’d left for a moment in the first place.

***

He arrived at his apartment around quarter past four. His head was absolutely killing him. Stumbling around, he searched for the bottle of pain killers. As the tap filled a glass of water for him, he thought it might be wise to take some of his medication. He’d neglected to that morning. Maybe they’d negate his lack of sleep and help him concentrate.

He downed the aspirin and the meds with his glass of water and then laid himself down on the couch. When Kyle called, he would simply reach for the portable phone. In the meantime, he could rest his head.

Lewis simply hoped that he hadn’t already missed the call. Steak actually sounded good. He’d been thinking exactly that earlier during the day. But he waited and waited. The phone didn’t ring.

It wasn’t extremely unusual for Kyle to forget to call. He wasn’t the type to stand people up, but it seemed like he was always busy with something. Lewis would call three or four times during a day, only to be met with a never ending string of ringing. That was fine, though. Kyle stopped in every now and then to surprise him.

“It’s steak, though,” he said to himself. It didn’t seem like Kyle to pass up a steak dinner. Maybe he had already called and Lewis had simply been a few minutes too late. He was planning to call to check, but sleep was slightly too imminent. Between waiting for the call and putting off making his own, he gently dozed to sleep.

It was dark by the time he awoke. The phone hadn’t rung in the entire time he’d been sleeping. His stomach was empty and his head had started pulsating again. The aspirin must’ve worn off.

Lewis was considering getting up when he heard a loud crash. He was on his feet in a fraction of a second. In search of the sound, he darted through the hallway and into his bedroom. With a flick of a switch, the light turned on and burned his eyes. When they’d finally adjusted, he looked around.

Nothing was broken. He’d been so sure something had fallen; crashed to the ground. But there was no sign of such an occurrence. It was so loud. He knew that whatever had made the noise was now in dozens of pieces.

He checked the bathroom, the living room, and the spare room. The results were the same. Nothing was broken and the floors were all spotless.

“That’s weird. Could it have come from the next apartment?” He listened at the wall of his bedroom, but heard nothing. He knew the two guys next door. They were definitely the type to drop something valuable, but there was no commotion on their end.

Still calming himself down, Lewis decided that he would call Kyle. Maybe something had come up and he was just unable to call. With the phone by his ear, he listened to the first ring. Then the second and the third. No answer. Another three rings and he hung up.

“He’s never home,” Lewis decided disappointedly. There weren’t a whole lot of other people he could call. He didn’t like to admit it, but his apartment often frightened him. He couldn’t call his mother. That would’ve simply been too pathetic, and might’ve sent her into another fit of paranoia.

Not many of his friends beside Kyle would react kindly to being called at such an hour. Anne would tell him to go back to bed, Zachery would tell him exactly where he could go for calling so late, and Greg would probably just laugh at him.

Somewhat disturbed but feeling slightly more calm, Lewis sat down on his bed. He obviously needed more sleep. Getting jumpy at the littlest sound was hardly a good habit to get into.

It was just about time for bed, so he decided that it was nothing after all. He did the usual activities before bed. He had to brush his teeth, wash his face, and check the doors and windows. He was being paranoid, perhaps, but it let him sleep easier at night.

He slipped himself under the covers and started warming up immediately. It was a sense of security he couldn’t get anywhere else. Lewis said a small prayer before turning the light off.

On this night, however, it took him a little longer than usual. Something was tugging at the back of his mind. Maybe it was anxiety. He could’ve easily been worried about the next day’s workload.

Perhaps he was worried about Kyle. What if he was in an accident? What if he were dead? But these were just excuses. At the back of his mind, Lewis knew what was really keeping him up. No matter how much he pushed at it, it remained implanted in his mind. And it kept growing louder and louder.

Luckily, he did eventually manage to fall asleep. And while it was an uneasy sleep, it was sleep nonetheless.

Meanwhile, in his apartment, sitting on tabletops, cupboards, a wardrobe, the fridge, and counters were many varied objects. Among them were picture frames, vases, lamps, trophies, and so on and so forth. Not a single one was out of place. The floors lay bare.

***

A knock on the door woke him up. He thought it was part of a dream, but it came again. Lewis’s eyes opened groggily and he let a tired moan escape him. What time was it? He rolled over only to be faced with a very bright and very green “7:32.”

“Oh ****!” he exclaimed, hopping from his bed. He stumbled around, wondering how he’d possibly get ready in time. He needed to shower, get dressed, eat, and drive into school. It only occurred to him several minutes later that it had been a knock on his apartment’s door that had saved him from being any later.

The dark green door swung open to reveal Kyle. He had a happy grin spread across his face. How could anyone be so happy on a Tuesday morning? That’s what Lewis wondered. He often found himself so terribly depressed in the mornings. It must’ve had something to do with being a teacher.

“Whoa, bud. You just getting up?” Kyle looked from his messy hair to his lack of socks. Lewis continued to frown. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Kyle had woken him up, he would’ve simply told him to go away.

“I brought you some breakfast, man. I was worried you’d already eaten. Guess not, huh?” he asked with a sly smirk. He held up a bag from the local sub shop. Lewis sighed, supposing a quick breakfast was a blessing.

“I’ve got to shower and stuff, but come on in. I’ll eat when I get out, but I don’t have a lot of time.” He’d forgotten to turn his alarm clock on, he realized. He’d been so distraught before bed that it had completely slipped his mind.

Kyle nodded, taking a stool. He brushed his shoulder length, light brown hair out of his eyes and began digging for his sandwich.

As Lewis went around the apartment, looking for clothes he could wear, he asked, “Did I miss your call yesterday?”

Halfway through a mouthful, Kyle replied, “Nah. I stopped to get a coffee and ran into an old friend who was in town on some kind of business. I don’t know, I wasn’t paying a whole lot of attention.” He laughed, but somehow, Lewis couldn’t return the gesture. There was a kind of weight in his stomach that succeeded in killing any chance of a good mood.

“Alright, no problem. We’ll do it another time, then?” Kyle nodded, still eating his sub. Lewis then closed himself into the bathroom. As he was in the shower, he couldn’t help but notice that his head was clear – maybe it was going to be a good day after all.

He got out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later. Kyle had long since finished his food and had begun looking around. The man wasn’t terribly familiar with Lewis’s apartment. He’d only been there twice before.

“What’re these for?” Kyle asked, holding the nearly empty pill bottle that had rested on the microwave.

“Headaches,” Lewis lied. He was generally complaining about one at any given point in time, so it seemed like a good thing to say. Kyle nodded thoughtfully and spun around, putting the container back in its place.

“So, you about ready to go?”

Lewis cocked an eyebrow. “I’m about ready to go to the school, yeah. I don’t know where the hell you’re going.”

Kyle put on a kind of guilty smile. “Yeah… about that. Um, I figured maybe you could drop me off on the way.”

“What?” Lewis asked, perplexed. “How’d you get here?”

“I walked. Er, well, I took a bus, but I walked a little to get here.”

“Don’t you have a car, Kyle?” Lewis asked. As he waited for the reply, his mind went over all the recent memories he had with Kyle. He’d never seen his friend driving a car. It was funny, really. No wonder he’d always been stuck driving him around.

“Nope. Ever seen me driving one, bud?” Kyle asked sarcastically. “I don’t really need one. I only live a few minutes from the bus station. That gets me just about where ever I need to go, really. I can’t believe you never figured that out. Quick as a bunny, aren’t you?”

Lewis couldn’t help but laugh. He liked to think he knew Kyle pretty well. They’d known each other for nearly eight years. After all, Kyle was the type of person he wanted to know. He had that happy go lucky attitude – the one Lewis had had as a teenager - he was funny, and outgoing all in one.

But he’d never really gotten to know his family. Kyle didn’t like to talk about them. They’d been rough on him as a teenager and he turned his back on them when he turned eighteen. That was the reason Kyle had given.

“Fine, I’ll drop you off where ever on the way. I’m late, though. I’ll eat in the car.” Kyle smiled in thanks and marched out of the apartment door.

***

The school day was crawling by more slowly than ever. His classes passed by the same as always. It wasn’t exactly an exciting job. It kept him on his feet, for sure. But it wasn’t something that challenged him. He might have the occasional intelligent conversation with his students, but he usually found himself feeling bored and distracted.

It wasn’t something that he didn’t enjoy doing, though. He enjoyed it, for the most part. He enjoyed constantly having to tell the two most talkative girls to shut up. He didn’t mind listening to trivial hockey facts. He liked hearing how the dance went. But on some days – the days where the dark cloud seemed to hang over his head – it was just another tiresome task.

Lewis sat at his desk, listening to the scribbling of pens against paper. He looked around the class. The walls, as he always noticed, were a dull white. There were posters hanging on all the bulletin boards and several rows of desks. The students were quietly (for the most part) writing their journal entries.

By the time the bell rang, Lewis was once more having trouble concentrating. It wasn’t as bad as the day before, though. He wasn’t forgetting what he was doing or who was speaking. “Even with the extra sleep, I’m still out there,” he remarked quietly as the students ushered out into the halls.

With his bag in hand, Lewis walked up to the teachers’ lounge. It didn’t really matter where he ate his lunch and drank his coffee, but occasionally a friendly face would walk in and he could have a decent conversation during the thirty minute break.

When he entered, the room was empty. However, he’d only been sitting down for three minutes when another man walked into the room. The man in question was easily his favourite person on the school’s payroll.

“Hey, Dan. How was class?”

Danny Campbell was a slightly older man with short, light gray hair. His smile was framed by his short, scruffy gray beard. “Not too bad. A little rowdy, though. A certain pair of ‘em just won’t stay quiet.”

Lewis knew exactly who he was talking about. He couldn’t help but laugh. The light laughter cleared his head, even if only temporarily.

“So, how’s life recently?” Lewis asked his friend.

Mr. Campbell shrugged. “Oh, I’m doing alright. Yourself?”

“Pretty good. Can’t complain, I-” Lewis stopped in the middle of his sentence and raised his head to see over his friend’s shoulders. He peered into the bathroom. “Um, can’t complain, I guess,” he finished, standing up.

He could’ve sworn that he saw something. Mr. Campbell looked at him confusedly as he walked into the staff bathroom, turned on the lights, looked around, and then walked out. “Did you see something?”

“I thought I did,” Lewis told him. “Must’ve just been imagining it.”

The other man nodded thoughtfully. “It happens to me, sometimes, too. I’ll be sitting in a room and I’ll catch a hint of movement out of the corner of my eye. And then I spend a little while looking around the house for nothing at all. It’s kind of ridiculous of me, really.”

Somehow, that confession was extremely comforting to Lewis. Maybe he wasn’t too paranoid for his own good. Or, at least, if he was, he wasn’t the only one.

That comfort disappeared, however, when he sat back down and once more saw movement coming from the darkened bathroom. He squinted, trying to see if it would happen again. Dan turned over his shoulder to look for himself.

“Did you see it again? It’s probably just a rat or something. It really wouldn’t surprise me. No one ever goes in there, so it’s probably a nice place for them to congregate.

“Yeah,” he agreed. He wasn’t so sure, though. It had seemed like a figure much larger than any rat. And it hadn’t been scurrying, either. It was almost like the figure of a hunched human darting out of sight immediately after being spotted. Normally, it would’ve been extremely disturbing, but Lewis knew that the room was very dark and that it could’ve easy been a trick of the light.

“Anyway,” Mr. Campbell said, sipping at his coffee, “I’ve got a few notes to jot down before my next class, so I should be off.” He stood and nodded at Lewis, who also stood.

When the other man exited the room, he was left unsure of what to do. He could continue to sit and eat until someone else came along, or he could go back to his class. In the end, curiosity won out and he neither ate nor left. He went back to the bathroom and turned the light on once more.

“Quiet as ever,” he said after looking in the stall and under the sink. He even bothered to look up at the ceiling, just to eliminate the possibility of a horror movie cliché. There was nothing, though. Aside from himself, the room was perfectly empty.

Lewis shook his head. A lack of sleep and too many horror movies over the weekend had drove him to his nerves’ end. Like all good horror movies, though, they would eventually lose their hold over him, and he could get back to living without such childish distractions.

Without paying it any more thought, he grabbed his bag and his coffee. He set off for his classroom, leaving the room as empty as it had been when he’d entered.

***

Lewis’s mother was waiting in his apartment when he closed the door. He sighed as he entered and shut the door behind him. “Hi, mom.” It wasn’t that he disliked seeing her. Rather, he disliked seeing her inside his locked apartment.

Germaine Norton was a very nosy, meddling person. She was in no way a bad person, though. She’d help you with any of your problems, even if she hardly knew you. But it was just as much for the sake of feeling helpful as it was out of the goodness of her heart.

“Oh, hello, honey,” she said, almost as if she were surprised to find him in his own apartment. “I stopped by earlier, but I guess you must’ve been at work. I let myself in with my key, but left when you weren’t here. I stopped by again ten minutes ago to wait for you.”

“Ah,” Lewis replied thoughtfully, putting his bag down by the counter. “And what can I do for you, mom?”

The aging woman frowned. She brushed her immaculate gray hair out from in front of her left eye, put on a hurt pout and said, “It’s sad that a mother has to want something in order to see her son.”

Her son rolled his eyes. He hadn’t meant to imply that, but he’d definitely been thinking it. “Sorry. You just don’t show up all that often anymore. It’s nice seeing you, though.”

Mrs. Norton smiled at her son and stood from her chair. “So, you seem like you’re doing well, dear. How’s school been going?”

“Fine. It’s been a little slow lately, but it’s fine.” His mother nodded slowly as she made her way around the black countertop. As Lewis had expected, she seemed to be inching closer and closer to the microwave.

“That’s good to hear.” She stopped in front of the sink, turned around to face her son, and clumsily began looking around as she prolonged the inevitable. “You know, Doctor Libman says that your medication is going down kinda slowly.”

“Mom,” Lewis said, shaking his head. “I’m not going to have this argument with you. Legally, I’m a perfectly sane adult. You and doctor Libman are only two people. Besides, it was prescribed to me on a whim and I’ve got no obligations. I can take the medication when I please.”

His mother’s eyes narrowed and she frowned. “But it doesn’t do you any good if you’re not taking it when you’re supposed to.”

“There’s no good left to be done, mom. There wasn’t a problem in the first place.”

“Oh, honey, you know that’s not true. You remember how depressed you were out of high school, don’t you?” Her tone was completely resolute. It was as if she thought that in itself was proof of anything.

“I was a freshman in university. Of course I’m gonna be depressed.”

“Well, you were always complaining about headaches and how you had trouble thinking. The doctor said that might-”

“Mom,” he cut her off, “I don’t really care what the doctor said. My headaches are because I’m a teacher. Of all the world’s professions, it’s assumed that teachers have the most headaches. And I don’t get a whole lot of sleep most of the time, either.”

“What about that one time while you were in university?”

“Mom, let it go! I woke up and walked into the kitchen. I was half asleep, and you know how I don’t like the dark. Any of the guys at the school would tell you that it’s basic psychology.”

“What would a bunch of high school teachers know about psychology?” she asked, pouting again. “Well, fine. If you don’t believe the doctor’s diagnosis, then why do you bother taking the pills at all?”

“Because, mom,” he began, his voice escalating, “they help a bit with my headaches. Sometimes aspirin just doesn’t cut it, so I’ll take them to help my concentrate when I have a class.”

“The doctor said they’d help you concentrate.”

Lewis shook his head in disbelief and sighed. He couldn’t keep arguing with her. There wasn’t a whole lot of point to it. The only reason he’d taken the medication at all was to keep her happy. And the only reason he wrote the journal was to keep Dr. Libman happy. “Mom, I’m not arguing about this anymore. If you only came here about this, then I guess I’ll see you later.”

“No, no,” his mother shook the accusations away, sad that she could no longer press. “I talked to Elizabeth earlier this morning.” At the mention of her name, Lewis’s mind began to wander. He could picture her. She was standing outside. Autumn leaves were falling all around her. She was all by herself.

“Oh? Where’d you talk to her?” He shook his head and tried to focus on the conversation.

“I actually stopped in to talk with her mother for a little while, and she just happened to be there.” Lewis had no trouble believing that her running into Elizabeth was an accident. But he was more than sure that she had gone to gossip with Mrs. Rupert.

“Ah. That’s nice. What’d she say?”

“Oh, you know,” his mother sidestepped the question. When it became heavily apparent, however, that her son expected an answer, she added, “she said she misses you.”

That’s a lie, Lewis thought. Nice of you to lie for my sake, though, mom.

“And her mother and I talked about how it was too bad things didn’t work out. You two went so well together.” Her son frowned and his attitude dropped. He moved to the sink and poured himself a cup of water. “Did you know she’s seeing someone?” she asked, perhaps misguidedly trying to lighten the mood.

“I didn’t,” Lewis said sourly after taking a drink from his glass. “Who is he?”

“Some lawyer named Arthur. Agitha invited me to dinner, if you’d like to meet him. This Saturday.” She watched her son roll his eyes and frown. “Mhm, I thought not. Well, if something strikes you and you change your mind-”

“Not likely, mom.” He only realized after he’d said it how callous it sounded. “Look, mom, I’ve got nothing against Mrs. Rupert. But I spent six years with her daughter, and she left me the second a doctor thought I might be slightly unwell. That’s a little disgusting, really.”

“Oh, darling,” Germaine walked over to her son put a hand on his shoulder. He shook his head sadly. “I’m sure she didn’t leave you over that, dear.” Lewis pulled suddenly away from his mother.

“Comforting to tell yourself that, I’m sure.” He was suddenly filled with rage. It was unexplainable. He’d drawn the same conclusion multiple times in the past, but it had never filled him with such emotions. “Kind of hard to admit that you ruined your son’s relationship of six years, isn’t it?”

Mrs. Norton was taken aback. Her shock quickly turned to terror. Although she’d also thought the same thing over the past few years, he’d never accused her of it. “I don’t know what to say, Lewis. You can hardly blame me for-”

“Get out.” Her eyes widened. Lewis actually seemed more serious than angry. His resolve was clear. She opened her mouth but he closed it with his gaze. “Mom, it’s time to leave. I’ve got work to be done.”

She had no choice. He wouldn’t listen to another word she had to say. He politely opened the door for her and stood by it uncaringly until she agreed. “I didn’t mean to upset you, darling.”

He nodded absentmindedly and said nothing. With her head lowered, Mrs. Norton walked out of the apartment, feeling more wounded than an infant who’d been struck by her best friend.

Once she’d left, Lewis closed the door and sat down on his couch. He looked outside his window and down at the streets. They were so full of people; bustling with life. It was almost relaxing. After a bit of breathing and thinking, the mysteriously born rage died away.

To say that Lewis felt stupid would’ve been an understatement. He’d just kicked his own mother out of his apartment. Maybe she deserved, though, he thought. Perhaps it was what she needed after sneaking in and stealing things. He wanted them stolen, though, didn’t he? So why be mad?

“No, no,” he told himself finally. It was because of Elizabeth. They’d gotten into the argument over Elizabeth and why she’d left him. Why hadn’t he remembered that?

As his head calmed, his thoughts grew more jumbled. Why had Elizabeth left him? Because of Doctor Libman’s diagnosis? Because she didn’t understand an illness that he quite obviously didn’t have? Perhaps it was because of the lawyer. Anthony the lawyer. No, it was Arthur, he remembered.

Maybe she’d left for this lawyer. “No,” he said, shaking his head while his sweating forehead rested in his palm. “Three years. It’s been three years. Dear god. Has it already? Not the lawyer, then. Then what were we arguing about?”

The phone rang and knocked Lewis out of his confusion. He picked up the phone and gave the usual, generic greeting. It was Kyle. “Hey, man,” Kyle said. “You sound kinda tired. Were you napping?”

“No,” Lewis answered truthfully, “but I probably should be. I’m not feeling so hot.”

Kyle kept talking for a bit and Lewis listened. All throughout the short conversation, though, Lewis could hear something in the back of his head. A faint ringing? Or maybe it was a buzzing. A tone? Yeah, a tone. It sounded vaguely like a dial tone. And then a distance voice. Was it Kyle’s?

“Yo, dude, still there?”

Shaking his head vigorously to wake up a bit, Lewis answered, “Yeah, yeah, I’m still here. I’m really out of it, though, man. I’m gonna lay down for a bit in a little while. What were you saying?”

“Oh. Ha ha. Got a lady friend there or something? I get it. Say no more, bud.” Kyle made an annoyingly suggestive clicking sound with his mouth.

“No. Kyle, I’m honestly just tired. Did you need something?”

Lewis listened to the ponderous humming of Kyle’s indecisive voice. He could still hear a voice in the back of his mind. Maybe it was his subconscious telling him to go to sleep. “Try again,” it told him, over and over.

Kyle finally decided that his plans weren’t that important and told Lewis so. He nodded and told his friend he’d see him some time that weekend. Kyle assured him he’d swing around to have some fun at some point before then.

“Alright, Kyle. Goodnight.” And with that, he hung up the phone and laid down on the couch. As he closed his eyes, he stared out the window and at the buildings in the distance. He was seconds from sleep as he closed his eyes. As he did so, the curtain wiggled. Was there someone back there? It didn’t really matter. Lewis was too tired to care.

Word Count - 5296

[adam69r]

Holy crap, never seen that much in a post before.

[Aex]

Ha ha. I imagine it seems like I'm really behind. I'm actually not, though. I'm only like a page behind the deadline, and just too much of a lazy ass to proofread and post it all. It'll all be posted before December.

[Aex]

Sleep brought with it a dream for Lewis. He felt almost like an onlooker in the dream. He could see himself from outside of his own eyes. He could hear his own thoughts as he thought them, but he wasn’t really thinking them.

He was inside his apartment but things had changed. A younger Lewis walked out of the bedroom and sat down on the couch. His hair was slightly longer, he was wearing his glasses, and was dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt.

The younger, rejuvenated man seemed so relaxed; care-free. At that point in his life, Lewis did occasionally get the headaches and fell into unexpected periods of depression, but for the most part, he was an easy going young man.

Colour seemed to be missing from the scene, which was a shame. The only thing that could detract from Elizabeth’s beauty was the missing colour of her normally red, fiery hair.

She walked out of their room and into the living room. She sat down beside him on the couch and put her hands around his neck. He smiled at her and then looked back out the living room window.

“Not too shabby, eh?” Lewis suddenly remembered where the memory was from. It was their first day in the apartment. “I mean, it’s gonna take some work, yeah, but we’ll get it done. In the meantime, there’s nothing wrong with a bunch of cardboard boxes to look at, is there?”

Elizabeth smiled and laid her head down gently on his shoulder. “Not at all. Feels cozy, actually,” she joked. He smiled and closed his eyes. He was tired from carrying all the boxes. Looking back at himself, Lewis couldn’t believe things had gone so wrong.

“My mother said she was talking to your mom earlier this week,” Elizabeth remembered suddenly. Lewis moved forward a bit and looked at her. Somehow, he really doubted that was good news.

“Is that right?” he asked, relaxing back into his spot again. “I’m not sure whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” Elizabeth laughed, but she didn’t sound so sure of the answer.

“I don’t really think it’s a bad thing.”

“What were they talking about?”

“I’m not really sure,” she said, looking up at him. “My mother told me that she seemed kinda distracted. You know how they like to gossip. Odd. I suppose two widows would get along well enough, though. But yeah, my mother said your mom was awfully quiet.”

“Which isn’t like her at all.” They were both guilty of thinking it. “There must just be something on her mind. She might be missing dad or something. I think I noticed it a bit myself, too. It’s been five years.”

Elizabeth nodded softly against his chest. “So, any ideas for the apartment?” he asked her, trying to lighten the mood. She tilted her head from side to side and sat up. Elizabeth had an eye for that sort of stuff. She hopped to her feet and began pacing around the room.

“I’m not quite sure yet,” she told him, holding her hands up to her eyes to measure the walls. “I think maybe some pink paint would brighten the living room up a lot.” Lewis couldn’t help but laugh as he watched from outside of his body. That obviously never got done.

“We’ll need to take some pictures. We don’t have nearly enough. I know a great photographer. Oh, Lewis!” She spun around and threw herself back into his arms. “It’s gonna be autumn soon. The leaves turn such beautiful colours out in the country. We could go get a nice picture taken out there.”

Lewis considered this. “Sounds beautiful. An awful long way to go just for a picture, though.” Elizabeth put on her sad face. How was he supposed to fight that? When she curled her lips, tilted her head, and her eyes started to tear up, what wouldn’t he have given her? “Alright, we’ll go get our picture taken. It actually sounds pretty good.” She smiled and hugged him.

There was a sudden rush of movement as Lewis flew upright. It was the kind of dream that you would awake from in a sudden burst of fright. His heart was pounding and it took him a little while to calm himself down.

It was luckily still light out. Lewis knew he had some work to do before bed, but his head was pounding and he was so tired. He used the arm of the couch to help him stand. “That was a… vivid dream,” he said. It really had been. It wasn’t often he had such detailed or lucid dreams.

He realized that even if his head was splitting apart, his students would still expect their journals back. Without stalling any further, he moved to his bag and set the papers out on the counter. He swallowed some aspirin and the last of his pills. Once he’d finished his drink, he sat down on a stool.

Perhaps it was because of the headache or perhaps it was simply because he was tired, but he couldn’t concentrate. He tried waiting for the pills to kick in, but he didn’t have that much time. When he realized it wasn’t going to disappear fast enough, he decided to press on.

“This isn’t working,” he exclaimed, cursing occasionally in between words. He kept trying, long past eight o’clock. Eventually, focusing became easier, but the headache absolutely refused to go away.

He’d gotten through about a quarter of the journals when he gave up. There was no way he could continue in his condition. He’d quickly drive himself into his own grave.

It was then, after he’d sat back down on the couch, that he noticed the curtain. It was slightly more open than he liked it. Not even a fraction of the window was covered. It all came rushing back to him. As he’d been falling asleep, the curtain had moved. He was sure of it.

Paranoia hit him like a ton of bricks. He was on his feet and looked around frantically before another second had passed. The setting of the sun had pushed him to his wits’ end. He looked around. ‘God, how long was I sleeping?” The thought of an intruder in his home completely destroyed his feeling of security.

Once he’d regained some composure, he slowly began checking the apartment. He did it logically and cowardly. He first checked all the places which didn’t involve having his back turned. Once he knew one portion was safe, he slowly went to another. It was quite a foolish sight, but fear does odd things to grown men.

It took him just shy of fifteen minutes to check every nook and cranny of the apartment. When he was finally sure that no intruders could possibly be inside, he sat down in a corner to think.

The apartment might’ve been empty, but he was sure it hadn’t been when he’d gone to sleep. What did that mean? Had someone been hiding behind the curtain since before his mother arrived? And what had they done once he’d fallen asleep. As he thought of all this, the accusations in his mind grew worse and worse.

“Calm down, Lewis,” he told himself finally. No one could’ve gotten into his apartment without a key. There would’ve been signs. Maybe a broken door frame or some foot prints. He didn’t live in a movie, after all.

And so he thought he’d seen the curtain move ever so slightly. That didn’t mean anything. He’d thought the same of the shower curtain numerous times. And he thought someone had moved it from where he liked it. Perhaps, he thought, his mother had done it. She was a perfectionist, after all.

The more and more he thought about it all, the sillier it seemed. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten quite so upset over such a small thing. Nonetheless, he didn’t dare turn any of the lights off until he was absolutely ready for bed.

All the locks were checked with twice as much attention. Every dark closet or shadowy corner was checked. Lewis brushed his teeth and walked quite reluctantly into his room. It was because he was so paranoid that his mother worried about him in the first place, which was ironic.

He crawled into bed. On that night, however, it unfortunately offered him no familiar sense of security.

***

“Yeah, it’s Lewis Norton,” he spoke into the phone. “I know it’s extremely late notice, but I can’t make it in today. You’ll need to find a substitute for my classes.” The secretary chastised him for what must’ve been two minutes before hanging up. Throughout the entire lecture, Lewis had been holding his head.

“Three aspirin,” he said aloud to himself after he’d hung up. “This thing just won’t go away.” He sat down on the couch and picked up the empty medication bottle. The painkillers weren’t cutting it anymore and he needed a refill on his medication anyway. He couldn’t very well go to work in his state.

He hated having the constant headaches. Maybe being a teacher wasn’t the best choice in the world, he joked. But it was hard to laugh. He felt depressed in the mornings and now depressed in the nights. He was coming to a slow and sad realization. A little late to get out of the profession, though.

As much as he despised taking the medication – both because it seemed to dull his personality and because it was admitting to something untrue – it helped so much with the headaches.

Lewis had already grabbed his coat from the hall closet when the knock came at the door. If it had come ten seconds later, he would’ve already been out in the hallway. He was rubbing his forehead as he opened the green door. Kyle stood on the other side, a huge smile on his face.

“Whoa, man. What’s up?” He went from carefree to being filled with concern in about half a second. “Migraine?” Lewis nodded. Truthfully, Kyle wasn’t exactly the person he’d been hoping to run into. “Where were you going?”

“Off to the hospital. I need to get a refill.”

Kyle nodded. “I’ll come with you. You don’t look like you’re having a terribly easy time. Just in case it gets worse on the way.” Lewis nodded again. Maybe the conversation could take away from the headache. He could keep him company in doctor Libman’s waiting room too.

The fresh air did Lewis a world of good. Not only did it calm the throbbing in his head, but it actually cheered him up a bit. Being outside in the sun always made the gloom fade. Kyle didn’t offer to drive – he never did – but that was fine. The company actually did do him some good.

As they were stuck in traffic, Lewis asked, “So, what’s up, Kyle? Did you need a ride or something?” It took Kyle a while to answer. At first Lewis thought maybe he hadn’t heard the question. But after thirty seconds, it became apparent that he was contemplating the answer.

“Not really,” he said, still peering out the window. “I didn’t really have anywhere to go today, so I figured I’d catch you before work again.” It was odd that Kyle hadn’t been to work in the past few days. Odder still was that he was so quiet. Lewis thought that perhaps something was on his mind.

“Ah.” A long, uneasy silence passed as the car inched slowly along. They passed green lights and stopped at red ones. People walked by them on the sidewalk, completely oblivious to the thick, awkward quietness.

“Kyle,” Lewis began, “is there something going on? Family issues or something?”

Tilting his head side to side, Kyle thought about it. “Nah. It’s not really something I feel like talking about. I’ve just been thinking about an ex-girlfriend of mine lately.”

“Tell me about it,” Lewis said. He was actually expressing his understanding more than making a request, but that wasn’t apparent to Kyle. The other man sighed and turned from the window.

“It’s just kinda shocking when a relationship ends so suddenly, you know? I really didn’t see it coming. And it’s been a while, too, mate. It’s really just sinking in now. We went so good together.” In all the years they’d known each other, Kyle hadn’t talked about his personal life much.

“It’s not easy,” Lewis said, patting him on the shoulder. Kyle nodded his agreement, but noticed how close they were getting to the hospital. He told him not to worry about it as they pulled into the parking lot.

Lewis always considered walking into a hospital so depressing. As far as he was concerned, it was basically like walking into the home of the ailed and the troubled.

“Mr. Norton, about time you showed up.” Dr. Libman was a usually a cheery fellow. He wasn’t, however, very pleasant towards people who challenged any diagnosis of his. Sadly enough, Lewis fell into that category.

“Right. Doctor Libman.” He turned completely around and quietly said to his friend, “You can go wait over by the vending machine. Shouldn’t take long. I figured there’d be a wait. Sorry.” Kyle shrugged and grabbed himself a seat.

“Mr, Norton,” doctor Libman said again, seemingly slightly confused and annoyed, “I’m a busy man. Do you realize that your medication should’ve run out two weeks ago? I realize perfectly well that you don’t enjoy taking it.”

“How exactly did you know that?” Lewis asked, completely aware that he’d never said it directly to the doctor. He’d said it to his mother, obviously. And Libman had undoubtedly heard it from her. But he’d already read the journal by that point.

“What do you mean, Mr. Norton? You told me that.”

“No,” Lewis shook his head. “I’ve never told you that.” The two looked at each other for a moment, a white hot intensity burning between them. “But luckily, doctor Libman, your prescription puts my mother’s mind at rest. That happens to make my life a lot easier. And it just so happens that I’ve run out of the miracle drug in question.”

Doctor Libman’s frown was priceless. That kind of attitude made him immediately inclined to not give someone what they wanted. But what they wanted, in Lewis’s case, was exactly what the doctor wanted to give him.

“Fine,” he scowled. “I’ll get you a refill on one condition. You’re to take them on time from this point on.”

Lewis laughed. He wasn’t generally an extremely assertive person, but Libman brought that personality trait out in him. He knew he held all the power in the conversation. “Is that right? Maybe I don’t want to follow your schedule.”

“Well then you’ll be getting no more medication from me.”

Lewis’s face filled with the brightest smile it had held in a long while. “Wonderful. A doctor refusing to treat a supposedly ill man. I’ll take that as a vote of confidence for my spotless health.” He turned towards Kyle and signaled for him to stand. Libman caught him by the shoulder.

“Come on, now, Lewis.” He turned his patient around. “We both know perfectly well that you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want a refill. Now, I’ve been good about keeping this quiet, but if you keep avoiding the medication like you do, I might be forced to alert-”

“Go ahead,” Lewis taunted. “You know just as well as I do that I’ll pass any test you give me with flying colours. My mother’s word combined with yours doesn’t carry a whole lot of weight without proof. Now I’ll thank you kindly to quickly get my refill so I can get back to the school.”

There could be no further argument after that. Refusing to give him medication would’ve been acknowledging a complete lack of a problem. Additionally, what he said was true. Doctor Libman couldn’t have the drugs forcefully administered. He was lucky they were taken at all.

“Your pills,” he said sourly as he exited his office. Lewis smiled at him and took the container. As he and Kyle walked away, doctor Libman shouted, “You’ll find, Mr. Norton, that I wasn’t wrong with my diagnosis.” Lewis had heard that too many times.

When they’d reached the car, Kyle looked at his friend and asked, “What was that all about? All over some headache pills?” Lewis nodded.

“Doctor Libman and I don’t see eye to eye on many things. He’s convinced I’m handling things wrong.” Kyle looked at him. His empathy was surprising.

“I’m not an expert on the subject, dude. I’m not even sure what’s going on, but I think you’re doing a pretty good job.” Lewis couldn’t help but laugh. Coming from Kyle, words of comfort just sounded so odd.

“Thanks.” He started up the car and realized that he still didn’t know where Kyle was going. “Where should I drop you off, man?”

Kyle was still looking out the window. This time, however, it appeared that he actually didn’t hear the question. Lewis asked it again. “Oh,” he said. “Well, it doesn’t really matter. Where are you going?”

Lewis raised an eyebrow. Kyle was basing his destination according to where ever he was going? That was an interesting decision. A going with the wind kind of thing. “Uh, back to my apartment, I guess. I was planning on going back to the school to catch a class or two, but I think I might pass.”

“Ah,” Kyle thought aloud. “Well, if you’re going back to your apartment anyway, I don’t suppose you’d mind if I hung out?” Lewis shook his head. “Awesome. Maybe we can even get that steak we talked about.”

“That sounds good.” The rest of the drive home was a rather quiet one. The two men talked about a few random things along the way. Elizabeth was brought up at some point, but only briskly.

When they arrived back at the apartment, Lewis was out of the car long before Kyle. When he realized his friend had remained inside the car, he moved over to the window. Kyle realized he was being stared at and snapped out of his daze.

“Sorry, man. I’ve been a bit out of it, lately,” Kyle told him. “I think maybe I haven’t been sleeping well or something. I’ll try to pay more attention.” Lewis laughed, but his mind was moving faster and faster. What had Kyle just said? Was it coincidence?

“Not getting a whole lot of sleep lately?” Lewis asked as they walked to the apartment door. Kyle shook his head, yawned, and said a little something about bad dreams. When they arrived at the door, Lewis had almost completely forgotten which key it was.

“Is that right?” Lewis asked, hardly paying attention to his own question. He found the key and unlocked the door. “That’s too bad.” Kyle nodded and they walked inside. Since his headache had returned, Lewis walked to the fridge and grabbed a glass of milk.

“Eager to make your way through those headache pills, huh?” Kyle said with a grin as Lewis popped the top of the bottle off. Lewis nodded, laughed, and told his friend that he could grab a seat on the couch.

The milk was cool against the back of his throat and the two pills went down without a fight. He also swallowed an aspirin, hoping it might speed up the process. Meanwhile, Kyle was looking out the window from the couch. “We’re only two stories up, but people still look awfully small.”

“I know,” Lewis said after he’d completely swallowed the milk. He walked over and sat down on the couch. “I look out there sometimes when I’m bored. I’m not usually all that bored, though.” He gave a small chuckle and looked at the clock over his shoulder.

Kyle must’ve noticed that he was looking at the time. “Ha ha, sorry man. Am I keeping you from something?”

Lewis turned around and was instantly apologetic. “Nah. I was just worrying about some tests I needed to correct,” he lied. “But I’ve still got lots of time. I appreciate the company.”

His friend didn’t seem to buy it, but he smiled nonetheless. Lewis eventually got bored of the silence and turned on the television. “Anything you’d like to watch?” he questioned while flicking through channels.

“Not really. Anything’s fine, I guess.” That sentiment obviously didn’t last long. “Football!” he shouted as the television landed on the channel. Lewis shook his head and laughed. No wonder they were such good friends. Lewis would never object to an afternoon spent watching a football game.

“Sure. You never mentioned that you like football, Kyle.”

His friend shrugged. “You never asked. Why? You like it too?” Lewis nodded. “Really? Wow. Do you play?”

“I used to,” Lewis replied, “way back in high school. I haven’t picked up a football in ages, though. I probably couldn’t play any more.”

“Aw, poor baby,” Kyle teased playfully. “You become a teacher and all of a sudden you’ve got a stiff back or something like that, right?” He stuck his tongue out mockingly.

Lewis frowned. “What’re you, six years old? Besides, I’ve seen you run. I could take you any day of the week.” Kyle couldn’t help but laugh. But when it became obvious that his friend wasn’t joking, he straightened up.

“Yeah?” Lewis’s face remained as serious as ever. “Alright, then. Let’s do it.”

“What? Right now?” Lewis asked when Kyle stood up from the couch. His friend nodded, a huge grin on his face. “Okay,” Lewis said, still thinking. “Let me see if I can find my old ball in one of the boxes. Wait here. Should only take a few minutes.” Kyle nodded.

There was an impatient tapping of a foot as Lewis looked through all the boxes in his bedroom closet. There were still several boxes to look through, and the tapping foot was getting annoying. His headache was going down, though, so that was a plus. Nonetheless, Lewis couldn’t help but feel relieved when he heard Kyle stop making those annoying thuds.

He found so many old, memorable things within those boxes. He found his old baseball glove from when he was only a young child. He also found some report cards he’d chosen to keep. Looking at them made him laugh.

His teachers’ remarks always made him laugh. Student demonstrates acceptable knowledge, but has trouble paying attention. Lewis works well with others but is sometimes too easily distracted. Effort is satisfactory, but he occasionally disrupts the class.

He also found a few old pictures of himself and Elizabeth. They were from back when he was in university. So many memories in such a confined space.

After about five minutes of reminiscing, Lewis found the old, worn football. It had been given to him by Stan Frasier, his best friend from high school. It held value not only because of the memory of playing on the football team, but because it was really the last part of Stan that Lewis could hold onto.

Stan had died of lung cancer when he’d turned 20. He was in his sophomore year, and Lewis would never forget the feeling he got in the bottom of his stomach when it happened.

He’d been such a carefree, fun loving guy. As the quarter back on the football team and the fastest mouth in the twelfth grade, he was someone to be admired by his peers. He wasn’t afraid to walk into a classroom almost like he owned it and then give the teacher his honest opinion.

It took Lewis a few more minutes to escape from his memories. He remembered that he still had Kyle waiting for him in the living room. That was fine, though. The apartment was free of irritating tapping, which probably meant Kyle had gone back to the game.

When he exited the hallway, however, he found that his friend was no longer waiting for him on the couch. Nor was he sitting at the kitchen counter. He wasn’t in the bathroom, and he hadn’t gone into the spare room.

“Kyle?” Lewis called. He walked further into the living room and then over to the door. He softly put his hand against the metal knob. The apartment door was open. So Kyle had left? Lewis walked into the corridor and looked around. He was nowhere to be found. “Kyle?” he called once more, louder this time.

“Where the hell did he go?” he asked out loud as he sat down on the couch. It was quite evident that he’d left, but where to? As he thought about that answer, however, Lewis began to wonder. Had the door been open when he got there? Or did he open it himself without realizing it?

Either way, Kyle had obviously run off somewhere. Perhaps he’d been late for a date or something. Or maybe he had groceries or something to do. Lewis joked that maybe he’d run off because he was afraid of getting beaten in football.

But Kyle was beginning to worry him. It was fine that he didn’t call when he said he would. He’d run into a friend. That was understandable. But running out of the apartment without even hollering to his friend in the next room? Why would he do that?

The football game was still playing on the television. There wasn’t a whole lot else he could do. Kyle didn’t have a cell phone, so he couldn’t call. He might’ve been able to correct some tests, but he really just wasn’t in the mood. Football seemed an adequate excuse.

Lewis hadn’t watched football in a while. After Stan had died, he’d been completely unable to. Eventually, however, he’d started watching it again. He hadn’t ever played again, though. It just wouldn’t feel right without Stan there with him.

When he did watch football, he liked to put himself and Stan in the game. He’d watch the play and congratulate his friend on any good throws. It was childish, obviously, but it was one of his methods of coping.

He watched the different plays, smiling every time his friend received the snap. At one point, after the tiny little quarterback on the screen had made an extremely long pass, he clapped his hands and whispered, “Way to be, Kyle.”

It took him a moment to realize his mistake. It hadn’t sounded right coming out of his mouth. Why had he mixed up the names? “That’s right,” Lewis said as he realized what he’d said. “Kyle plays football, too. Wow. I swear, that guy never ceases to amaze.”

After the football game ended, Lewis decided to fix himself some supper. He didn’t really have an incredibly large selection, though. It came down to macaroni and cheese or boiled hotdogs. In the end, the hotdogs seemed the easier choice. He sat down at the table – which only rarely ever saw use – with his hotdog and a pile of English quizzes. It wasn’t exactly how he enjoyed spending a Wednesday afternoon, but at least he’d gotten the day off.

For the first time in a while, he didn’t have any trouble concentrating. When he read through the paragraphs of poorly edited punctuation, he caught everya misplaced comma or abused semicolon.

After a bit, it began to seem almost frightening. Maybe it was the complete lack of a headache that had done it. Maybe it was something psychological. Whatever was causing it didn’t matter. It was doing wonders for the correction process.

It only took him twenty minutes to get through the entire pile of papers. Twenty minutes, he thought. That was less than a quarter of the time it would normally take him to get through something like that.

When he’d finished, he had more time left over than he knew what to do with. Not only was he able to focus more easily, though. He also felt bubbly. He couldn’t remember feeling so full of energy since before Elizabeth had left.

He paced around the house, picking up objects and putting them in their place. It wasn’t really because he couldn’t stay still. Rather, it was because he wasn’t sure when the next time he’d feel up to the task of cleaning would be.

When it came time to go to bed, he almost didn’t want to go. He was feeling quite good about himself. What if it ended in the morning? He was quite sure it would end in the morning. All the same, he had no choice. He needed to get his sleep for the next day.

He brushed his teeth. When he’d finished, his teeth looked whiter and felt cleaner. He combed his hair out of his eyes, and it seemed to put up less of a fight. And when he crawled into bed, the warmth and sense of security was more present than ever. The darkness comforted him instead of swallowing him.

As he drifted gently to sleep, on top of the microwave sat the pill container. However, it wasn’t the same pill container. If Lewis had been paying more attention, he would have noticed slightly different numbering.

Lewis woke up the next morning feeling exactly as he’d thought he would. He’d been feeling too well the previous night to possibly wake up happy. Perhaps it was because of his burnt toast. Or perhaps it was because of the stiffening cold in his apartment. Either way, it just didn’t seem like it was going to be a good day.

After he’d chilled himself to full consciousness in the shower and had filled his stomach with charred bread, he gathered his things onto the table and looked through them. If he’d made it more of a goal the night before to worry about his things for work rather than for the quality of his apartment, he’d have already been gone.

“Tests, quizzes, notes, answer sheets,” he repeated to himself over and over as he moved to the sink. As the glass filled slowly, he grabbed two aspirin and one of his pills. He considered for a moment taking two of each, but he’d never really needed two before. It wasn’t that bad, anyway. It might help, but it would be a little excessive, wouldn’t it?

When he’d swallowed all three of the tiny capsules and his glass of water, he hastily put all of the sheets into his black bag and made for the door.

Things were better when he arrived at school. His headache went away and he found himself concentrating more easily. It had been a while since he’d stood in front of the class with a meter stick in his hands and a smile on his face.

“Mr. Norton, you’re looking awfully cheerful, today. Won the lottery, did you?” asked one of the other teachers. He continued to smile throughout the day. Even when he had his grade ten English class, he couldn’t help but enjoy the random banter and pointless chit chat.

During lunch, he went into the teachers’ lounge to eat a cold slice of pizza he’d found in the fridge from the weekend and sip at some coffee. There were two others in the room. Michelle Teague was the phys ed teacher. She was joined shortly by Dan Campbell.

Michelle – she preferred people use her first name, as “miss Teague” scared her to death – and Lewis had been talking about the dance from the week before when Mr. Campbell walked in.

“Michelle, Lewis,” he greeted. He pulled a chair out and grabbed himself a cup of coffee. When he noticed how quiet the other two had gotten, he waved his hand and said, “Oh no, don’t let me interrupt.”

Lewis and Michelle smiled kindly at the older man. “As I was saying,” Michelle continued, “they got what was coming to them. They all knew better.”

“I know,” Lewis agreed, despite sounding somewhat unconvinced, “but I still think they were a little hard on them. I mean, if you put up a sign that says, ‘no booze,’ what do you honestly expect you’re going to find?”

Dan laughed. “Some of them were students of mine. A few cookies short of a jar, without a doubt, but they’re not bad kids.”

“All the same, if you break the rules you’re going to get punished,” Michelle concluded resolutely.”

“I was like that as a kid.” Michelle and Dan looked at Lewis. He nodded. “Yeah. I nearly got suspended three times in high school. I think it’s just a point in your life when you need to feel noticed, really. And they weren’t hurting anyone.”

“They could have.” Michelle really didn’t seem to want to let it go. That was understandable. Her brother had lost his leg in a car collision.

“Why were you out yesterday, Lewis?” Mr. Campbell asked, trying to avoid the subject.

“Doctor’s appointment. I wasn’t feeling well when I got home, either. I thought maybe I could catch a class or two, but I really just wasn’t feeling up to it.”

“Mind if I ask what the appointment was for?” Michelle asked, also happy to be off the previous subject.”

“Yeah,” Lewis said, shuffling a bit. “Bad migraines lately.” Michelle nodded fiercely as if she understood exactly what he meant. Mr. Campbell, however, just sat there with his coffee and a thoughtful look in his eyes.

“You get them often?” he asked, still looking like he was thinking about something incredibly deep. Lewis wasn’t sure what to say. He did get headaches fairly often. Was it the kind of thing he should be telling other teachers, though?

“Sometimes, yeah. It’s fine, though. I think it’s just because of a lack of sleep and stress.”

Michelle was still nodding, but the eldest of the three remained silent for a moment. “I had a friend who used to tell me about the same thing,” he said finally, smiling as if to honour a memory. “He was a teacher, too, so you could very well be right. Do you have trouble concentrating sometimes, too?”

Lewis nodded. He hadn’t meant for the topic to come to rest on him and his problems, though. He didn’t enjoy it, either. “Oh, before I forget,” he said, sneakily trying to change the direction of the discussion, “do either of you know why Mrs. Mirandez is out?”

They talked for another small while. During the conversation, a few other teachers came into the lounge and listened. Some added in their fleeting opinions on the matters.

Michelle stood as the bell rang and said, “Well, I can’t be late. I’ve got nets to set up.” Dan smiled and Lewis waved. The two men were left in the room alone.

“I guess I should be getting to class,” Lewis told the other man. Mr. Campbell, however, seemed to be thinking about something. Whatever he was thinking about, he quickly shrugged it off dismissively.

“Me too,” he finally said. “I just hope they’re not playing that ‘penis’ game again. Sometimes I really wonder if it’s not all wasted effort.” He laughed and made his way back to class.

The rest of the day passed by without much commotion. Lewis was surprised to find that it was actually his students who were playing the aforementioned game. They must’ve caught it from Mr. Campbell’s class, he joked. When they got bored of that, they would change it up a bit and yell out less pleasant expletives. It wasn’t the most amusing thing to hear, but they were just having fun.

He passed out the English quizzes to his final class. There were some joking gasps and some raised eyebrows. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “I passed something back on time. Real surprising. If some of you followed suit, your marks might not be so low.” He hadn’t been joking, but they laughed regardless.

When the school day ended, he found himself without a whole lot to do. He had a test for the students on Monday, but he’d finished writing most of it. He only had to wait to see if the class would finish the last two chapters in the next day’s class.

Without anything else keeping him at the school, Lewis went home early with a smile on his face. He unlocked the door and walked into the apartment with a pirouette. The morning’s gloom was completely gone. He felt like someone in a movie who might burst into spontaneous song and dance.

The glee and weightlessness that came with being rid of morning’s depression, however, was squashed somewhat when he thought of Kyle. His friend had left him hanging rather awkwardly the day before.

Lewis couldn’t picture him actually answering his phone, but it was worth a try. The phone rang several times before Lewis got the message about how no one was answering and how you were an idiot for calling when, quite obviously, no one was home. It was politer than that, naturally, but that was how it always sounded to Lewis.

It didn’t surprise him at all. Kyle was hardly ever home, he figured. He wasn’t sure why that was. He had to work, obviously. And Kyle had told him that he volunteered in the community every now and then. Lewis also knew that he spent some of his time partying.

As he sat down on the couch and looked at all the people on the street outside, he couldn’t get rid of the nervous feeling in his gut. Kyle wasn’t the type to abandon someone, he thought. Why would he just run off without notice, then?

Maybe if he could just hear that his friend was alright, he’d feel better. Perhaps he’d feel better when Kyle told him that he’d simply seen someone being mugged outside on the street or that there was a little girl wandering aimless in the middle of the road. Nothing but excuses – plausible excuses, at least – filled his mind.

“Let it go,” Lewis told himself. Kyle was just impatient. He’d probably forgotten that he’d had a date planned and didn’t even have the time to yell down the hall. He was a very compulsive person, Lewis admitted.

He really didn’t feel like worrying about it. His friend would show up one day with a few donuts, an apologetic face and a relatively good excuse. That would be the end of it. When that man showed up with food, it was hard for Lewis to stay mad at him.

So Lewis went around the house during the early hours of the afternoon cleaning whatever was dusty and arranging anything that might be slightly out of place. By suppertime, he was feeling somewhat drained. More slowly, but in the same fashion as his energy, his cheerfulness drained away as well.

When a knock came on his door, he thought immediately of Kyle. It was probably a good thing he hadn’t cooked anything. He would very likely open the door to find a full meal on the other side. Imagine his surprise, then, when he opened the door and found not Kyle but another cheerful, familiar face. It was a face he hadn’t been expecting to see for a long while.

Word Count - 6554

[Aex]

Right. So I finished with roughly five hours to spare. Now, I realize I've only posted like one third of it, but meh. I can't be bothered to proofread it all and post it right now. =/

So here are a few pictures:



That's the last page I've written at this point. You'll noticed that the word count stands at 50 010. It's not the end to the novel and I didn't even have time to proofread that, so knock yourself out with the typo hunt.



All the different word files. A different one for each day of the month. You'll see that there's a file named "2, 3, 4." That was for proofreading purposes. =/

Finally:



That's me with my laptop. Not the greatest pic of me, but I don't particularly care. I just wrote 50 000 words over the course of a month. I'm allowed to take ****ty pictures of myself.

There you have it. I still have to finish, but I'm not far from the end of the novel. Eventually, I'll have to proofread it all, and that's when it'll show up here.

Thank god I don't have to do this for another year.

[Jason]

Nick, your teenage face screams victory and acne

Congrats!

[Aex]

I love you too, Jason. =/

*Goes off to wash face or something of that sort.*