Chapter 27: Forgotten

Chapter 27
Forgotten

I found myself in bed, listening to the sound of my alarm. Its incessant beeping meant hours had passed without me ever having recollection of that time. Sometimes, I would remember a fragment of a dream only to have it wisp away as I tried to hold onto it.

7:30 as usual.

I got up, and I did my morning activities. I checked my e-mail. No new e-mails from my professors. It was just another day.

I then took the train to the university. I always liked the train. The wheels screeching as they grinded against the metal rail comforted me. It was a brutal sound that would always be there – that those wheels would always be turning – moving – even if nothing else were.

I got to class on time, which meant I was early. Everyone else was late. It seemed they showed no respect for the system, for the academics of learning, for the fact that some people had to pay for their college and chose to learn. No, they didn’t care. They didn’t care that a person put themselves up on the stage everyday to the scrutiny of others. Then again, not all professors cared about teaching. Some were in it just for the money. Others for the research. Not everyone cared about passing something onto someone else. Not everyone’s like me. I just don’t have anyone to pass it onto.

I sat in the park as I ate my sandwich. My phone rang. Mom.

I’m her son but not really. I’ve always felt more of a puppet – something for her political career. She married and had a kid to show a family aspect. I remember posing in family pictures when I was younger, but at some point, I was no longer invited to them. Instead, I became the angsty teenager, which made her more relatable to families.

And Dad? Dad showed more affection to other children – to his patients. I remember visiting him at work one day. I sat in his office and looked out toward the waiting rooms. Children played with the supplied toys and parents would talk to them. Whenever my dad walked into an exam room, he’d smile and say something that pertained to the child, personalized. I could hear it through the glass – it wasn’t sound proof. When the door opened again, the child would be waving goodbye to my dad as they sucked upon a lollipop.

Whenever either of them talked to me, they would only ever ask – “how was school?”

So I let it ring.

I sat through another class, and my school day ended. It was time for me to head back to the station and head home. Someone tried to hand me a flyer, but I pushed past him.

As I continued toward the station, I found myself stopping in front of an alleyway. It led toward the back of buildings. I didn’t know why I stopped, but something felt familiar. I walked on. A strange feeling.

A girl bumped into me. She was running to go down that alleyway and struck me. She fell to the floor. She apologized from the floor, got up, and ran away. All I really saw was a skull ribbon in her hair. Somehow, I felt like I should know her. That I’ve seen her before.

I found myself reaching out and the word “grace” breaking through my lips. Why?

I continued walking toward the station, and a scream came from the alleyway.

The wheels of the train screech as I return to my apartment.

Text and Images © Jonathan Lee