The Roommate

The Roommate

The piercing sound of the alarm buzzed through my ear cajoling me to wake up to begin my day. I always had trouble waking up in the morning because it always takes me a while to realize what has happened.

What time is it? What day is it? What does the clock say?

The clock flashed 6:00, which means…What does that mean? Oh yeah, it means that I have a good hour of sleep ahead of me. I started thinking about the dream I just had. Images of a forgotten adventure in a make-believe land flashed before my eyes. A beautiful woman seducing me. There was no fear burning in my stomach. I was sly and charming. I knew exactly what to say to the woman to get her to kiss me. We embraced under the blessing of the rain, washing away all my doubts and letting it drain into the darkness of the night.

I wonder what it all meant. “Come back to me,” the woman seemed to have been shouting. I really wish I knew what to think about that dream. I have not been able to think clearly recently. A dark fog of my past has found its way out of the dark recesses of forgotten memories. I found myself thinking about her again. Although I’m not able to think clearly, I’ve discovered that I had this curse of wanting to think. It is ironic because while I’m lying here, thinking, I realized that this is becoming a bad habit. It never matters what I think about, I just like to keep my mind occupied. Now I’m never going to be able to sleep.

. . .

Where am I?

“Ugh.” I rose from my bed with a grunt. I guess I finally fell asleep, except that I don’t remember what I was doing before I slept. I remembered that I had awoken at around 6:00 and now all of a sudden it is 7:23. “Great, just great, I am going to be late for class again,” I started thinking out loud.

“You awake now my friend?” My roommate asked. I don’t think I’ve ever woken up before my roommate. I guess it’s no surprise since I can never seem to fall asleep. Probably a by product of thinking.

“Yeah, I’m awake. What day is today?”

“It’s Saturday man, time to rise and shine. Begin your week anew or end your week, however you want to think about it. The point is, we have a break from school and it’s time to enjoy ourselves.” I never understand how he can be so happy. It seems like every weekend he would be going through the same speech. About how sunny it is outside and how we should get up early to begin the day anew. But like I said I could never wake up early.

I grabbed for the pack of smokes in my drawer and took a cigarette. “Ahhh, this is the way to wake up man. Wake up to the sweet smell of nicotine. Don’t you just love that smell?”

“You know I hate it when you smoke, man. It is such a disgusting habit. You should quit while you’re ahead. Blah, blah, blah.” I didn’t feel like listening to his caring speech about cigarette smoking, so I laid back down on my bed. Satisfied that it is Saturday, I started to doze off.

. . .

Gasp.

“Breathe man.”

“Ugh. What the hell is this taste in my mouth?” I somehow had dozed off with a cigarette in my mouth. I guess I must have started smoking when I woke up at 7:23. It’s funny because I always remember exactly what time I awake because it is the first thing I see, but I can never remember what I do immediately before I fall asleep. “Man, I feel so disoriented,” I said it half to myself and half for Sage. I didn’t even know if he was listening to me nor do I know if he was really there, I just know that I heard his voice.

It is sometimes very hard to decipher dream from reality. Sage thinks that I let my problems control me, and he is definitely right. My life has become a mix of alcohol and sleep, consciousness and cigarettes.

“Dude, you okay man?” It was Sage’s voice.

“Yeah, just dandy.” Ahhh, the sweet smell of nicotine. It always takes all my troubles away. I decided that it was finally time to wake up and start wallowing in the misery that is my life. “Do we have any breakfast?”

“Yeah, it’s on the table.” Sage pointed in the general direction of our table. The frailty of his actions always stabbed my heart. There was a dark past that haunted Sage. Everything that every normal, healthy, American boy ever takes for granted, this child did not have it. When we were all sitting at home playing our Nintendos he was being whipped. Instead of blisters on our thumbs, he had scars on his back that marked his distant childhood. When we were whining about being grounded he was left to rot in the basement, shackled. Away from the nourishing sunlight. When we were playing with our friends, he was being violated by a homosexual father that took pleasure in sadistic, incestuous sex. I couldn’t stand knowing that I complained about my normal childhood while my roommate suffered. I hated how all I could do was pity him. And that’s all I tried to do. I pitied Sage with all my heart. For this he adored me.

“I made some breakfast, bacon and eggs,” the sound of Sage’s voice, snapped me out of the hypnotizing sway of his fragile arm.

“Thanks.” That was the only reply that I could weakly muster.

Slowly I mounted on my perilous journey to the table.

“Heheheheh.” I knew that high-pitched noise anywhere. It was already starting. They were appearing to mock and deceive me. The bunnies and teddies, they slowly surrounded me. Sadistic smiles decorated their faces, their eyes screamed of mockery.

“HAHAHAHAH.” The laughing echoed in my ears as I cupped my hands over them. This had to stop. I couldn’t take this anymore. They were always mocking me. Their laughter was like poison. They slowly surrounded me, always laughing, louder and louder as they got closer and closer. The sadistic smiles. The mocking eyes.

“Hey,” Sage said, his voice was almost inaudible when surrounded by all that laughter, “Hey, you okay Arcadian?” His voice was soothing my spirit.

“Snap out of it man, you can beat them. You know they’re not really there.” The sweet innocent voice of Sage was hitting every part of my body, calming me down, bringing me back to reality.

I held unto Sage’s bony arms as I slowly got up. The bunnies and teddies have receded back to the dark corners of my disturbed mind. When I was fifteen, I was diagnosed with schizophrenia and this had eventually manifested themselves into giant teddy bears and bunnies. They were always mocking me. Laughing at me. Taunting me.

I took a drag of my cigarette. The glowing warmth crawled its way towards my lips, turning the white texture of the cigarette into gray, lifeless ash and graceful smoke that rose to the air, before finally resting on the busted smoke alarm. The nicotine surged through my body, alleviating my pains, and making its way to my lungs where it deposited its poison.

“You really should stop smoking, that can’t be good for you,” Sage said, wearing a worried mask on his emaciated face. The contours of his skull was highlighted by the unhappiness that he bore with him from seeing me smoke.

I just stared flatly at Sage’s face, like a child who just saw a trick that did not amuse him. I did not know what to say to him. I respected his wishes for me to quit such a nasty habit, but he would not understand what it’s like to be unable to handle your problems. Sage has been with me since high school, following in my shadows, appreciating my existence when I had shunned it. He was my Milhouse, an eternal friend that has a voice that is so easily subdued.

The room looked like it was still swirling, but I managed to gather enough strength to limp my way through the couch. I had my arm wrapped around Sage’s shoulders, leaning on it. Leaning on his frail body gave me as much comfort as leaning on railing, on top of a 100-story building, made out of Popsicle sticks. I did not want to tell him this for he helped me with good intentions and like I said, all I can do is pity him. I flopped myself on the couch and reached over to my half-empty bottle of Ol’ Jake. There wasn’t as much of the “nectar of the Gods” left in the bottle as I thought. I finished the bottle and let the alcohol soak through my veins. The taste of alcohol in my mouth and the smell of nicotine in my nose, danced around in my head. It was a graceful dance. A dance for the unhappy.

The time was now 8:02, and I laid back on the couch and thought about my life. Sage was just sitting next to me, for he knew my depressed look all too well. He was now wearing a smile, but I knew it was only a facade. He was always smiling but that was only because he did not want anymore unhappiness in the room. The mannequin-like smile fooled other people, but it did not fool me. His ephemeral happiness could be seen in all his actions. It could be heard in his wavering voice that hinted towards his lack of confidence. His posture proved that he was still a cowering child. Even his smile betrayed him, for it was flat.

. . .

Time to get to work.

After showering and changing to fresh clothes, I walked over to the cafeteria where I worked. My job was to clean after the slobs of the school that seem to find it funny to leave shit all over the floor for me to clean up.

I arrived to work at 1:00, on the dot. I took pride in being punctual, not that anybody cared if I come in or not. And like a well choreographed ballet, my entrance hailed a volley of discarded foods towards me. But being used to this kind of torture, I had a lunch tray to shield me from their attacks. But when someone nonchalantly cascades his way to me and dumps a bowl of spaghetti on my head, the tray could not protect me from the onslaught of their laughter. Why do I even bother showering?

“Fuckin’ asshole,” I muttered to myself.

“What was that?” From the tone of voice, I seemed to have touched a dainty string. “What did you say psycho-boy?”

I walked away from him and the hateful glares to head for the kitchen, where they’ll mock me less for fear of being fired. As I opened the kitchen doors, I was hit with another volley of food before a pot of slop that has been cleverly placed on top of the doors, flopped on my head. The mixture of what seems like gravy and spaghetti sauce trickled down my face staining my clothing along with the sweat from my burning, suppressed rage. But that is not all, I was waiting for the entrance of the most beloved of these sadistic bastards. My ex-girlfriend.

She gracefully entered the cafeteria. The gentle sway of her hips stabbed my heart. Her silky hair that flowed like a waterfall down the back of her head called for attention on everybody that had a drop of testosterone in their bodies. The crimson red lips seemed to urge the heart to pump more blood so that they glow of your body will match her sensuous lips. Everything about her were so mesmerizing, and she knew it. That’s why she was there. So that she could mock me along with the other people is this damned university. I was powerless to her whims once again, and she knew that from the glazed look in my eyes. So, I was only half conscious when she walked up to me and licked the side of my face. Before spitting at me.

You are probably wondering why I even bother coming to work when I am only going to arrive at this kind of torture. Well, it is because, it’s the only way I can pay for this prestigious university that I am in. I can’t go home either because everyone says I belong to this school. My parents are so proud that I got into this school that they brag about it to all their friends and coworkers. So I am stuck here. Trapped between the grins of rejection of my peers and the proud smiles of my family. I stand here in this school, with only Sage as my companion.

The thought of Sage, sitting at the dormitory, happily waiting for my return, brought a smile upon my face. My torturers must have found it strange that my face wrinkled from my smile after they had just attacked me. And with hisses, boos and screams of “What a psycho!!,” the students went back to their tables and resumed eating. They went back to their artificial bubbles of friends and started chattering again about their superficial lives, while occasionally dropping pieces of food unto the floor for me to sweep up later on.

This is the life that I live.

Work once again dragged on for hours. Drowned in the sneers and jeers of coworkers and students alike. Their mockery pierced me sharper than a dagger could ever do. The laughter engulfed me into a sea of suppressed rage, my only way of breathing was by the tiny hope given to me by Sage.

. . .

The time was now 4:30 and I just got out of work. I had an hour to get ready and go to the lab so that I can work on my research with my physics professor. I had been working on this project for quite some time now, to be more specific, for the last three years of my life. The experiment involved creating an efficient fuel cell from solar and hydrogen power. It is my pride and joy. When it is all over, everyone will know me for what I have done. Everyone will respect me. They will know my name. I couldn’t help but smile as I walked towards my dormitory.

The walk to my dorm was uneventful, aside from the usual stares. The usual whispers behind my back about those rumors. But I have gotten used to them so I paid them no heed. I arrived at my room with less resistance than usual and headed towards the shower. I found it strange that Sage was not around because he was always there when I get home. I didn’t really pay that close attention to it because I thought that he might have just gone to get food.

The shower not only cleansed the dirt that I received at work, but it also washed away all my troubles. There was something soothing about being beaten by the drops of water. Something about it was relaxing. After leaving the shower, I went back to my dorm and changed to fresh clothing.

“Hey, Sage, lemme tell you about my day man, it was the worst ever,” I started talking as soon as I walked through the door. But there was no reply. Hmmm, that is really weird, he definitely should be here now. “Hey Sage! You around man?” there was still no reply. I looked at the clock to check the time. The clock flashed 12:00. Strange, my clock never goes off. But thinking that I was late, I didn’t really have time to fix it because I had to get to the lab. So I drank a shot of Ol’ Jack and ran towards the laboratory.

. . .

I could hardly breath when I arrived at the lab because I had to sprint there. The lights in the lab were off, but I thought that I might have just been early. I really didn’t know what time it was, I just assumed I was late because my clock wasn’t working. The door squeaked as I casually opened it. I expected to get a lot of work done because there was nobody else in the lab, and my advisor wasn’t there to tell me what I should be focusing on. Although the lights were off, there was a lone computer glowing in the corner. It’s probably just Dr. Wyattson. My thought was somehow focused on reassuring me that there wasn’t anything wrong with this situation. You’re used to strange situations anyway, this isn’t the worst of ‘em. The voice in my head that’s reassuring me sounded a lot like Sage.

“Is that you doctor Wyattson?,” I queried to verify what I was thinking, but there was no response. “Hello? Is anybody there?,” the silence was my only response. I moved closer towards the eerie glow of the computer monitor. There was definitely a figure sitting in front of it, unfortunately, the light emanating from the monitor was not enough to show the hidden figure. “Is that you doctor Wyattson?,” there was now a certain wavering in my voice that probably gave away my bravado.

“No, Arcadian, it’s me.” It was Sage. I could barely make out his silhouette, but I was sure it was him from the sound of his voice.

“What are you doing here Sage?”

“I’m protecting you Arcadian. No. I’m protecting us.” As he said these words, the lights in the room flickered on and the sight in front of me was almost unbearable to watch. Lying below me in a pool of blood was Dr. Wyattson. His lab coat was slashed repeatedly in the back, indicating that he had tried to run away. There was a large gash in his arm and on his hand, at some point in his fight for survival, he must have held on the knife that was surely used as the weapon.

“Jesus Sage, what did you do?,” I was starting to panic now. The kind expression on Sage’s face was now lost as he slowly waved the knife in front of me. The knife was stained with blood. His face and clothing had splatters of blood all over them.

“You know it had to be done Arcadian. You know what happened when you woke up at 4:00 this morning to work on your project. Don’t you remember? The truth that we found out?” His voice was calm and his words were precise. The events of last night spun through my head. I remember going to sleep early at midnight but I only remember waking up at 6:00. My eyes searched Sage’s, looking for the answers to this horrible event. “Don’t you remember?,” he repeated.

“Remember what? I only remember waking up at 6:00.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Poor Arcadian, you can’t even remember. It is a pity really. You woke up at 4:00 this morning to go to the lab and work on the project, but once you got there, you discovered something that wasn’t meant for your ears. We discovered that dear old doctor Wyattson here had the intention of keeping the credit of this wonderful discovery all to himself. He figured that he should discredit you for all those rumors circulating around the school.”

“You mean the rumors about…,” I didn’t want to say it. I knew exactly what he meant. The whispers that I would hear behind my back. It was the reason that I was being tortured and humiliated by my classmates.

“Exactly Arcadian. Those rumors.” A smirk grew on his face. This was not the same Sage that I knew. He was different. Dr. Wyattson’s blood dripped from his face and joined the rest of the puddle. “You know those rumors that are whispered behind your back. The subject of every conversation when you walk into a room.”

“But those aren’t true! You should know that I’m stable, aside from my schizophrenic attacks in the morning.”

The smirk in his face grew bigger. He was now taunting me. “On the contrary my friend, I do know that you are crazy. Just sit back and analyze the situation. You know it’s true.” I couldn’t stand his words. I wanted to vomit. I wanted to run away from him. To run away from the truth that haunts me. He had turned against me. My only friend has turned against me.

“No!! I won’t listen to you! You’re crazy! Nooo…” My voice trailed off as I broke down into tears. I couldn’t take it. There was too much building up inside of me.

“You know that the rumors about you seeing people that aren’t there are true. Rumors that you are crazy. Rumors that you even befriended one of these people.

I could hear voices in the distance. It was probably the police, someone probably called the police. They must have heard Dr. Wyattson’s shriek as Sage stabbed him ten times in different places.

The police broke down the door. Pieces of the door shattered as they forced their way inside the lab. “Freeze!” Despite the fact that they obviously screamed, their voices were muffled. I was too focused on the moment to care. Too focused on the hatred of everybody. Everyone who has ever betrayed me. My ex-girlfriend. Dr. Wyattson. But most especially Sage.

“Arrest him and don’t forget to read him his Miranda rights,” I heard on of the officers commanded and I felt better that it was going to be all over soon. But I was wrong, dead wrong.

“Arcadian Brassworth, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you do and say can and will be used against you in the court….”

“No! You made a mistake officer. I didn’t do it! He did it! Sage over there, standing in that corner holding the knife.” All I saw were blank stares. The stares that I have seen throughout my entire life. They couldn’t understand me. They didn’t know what I was talking about.

“He might be able to plead insanity and get off easier,” one of the officers joked. Everybody laughed at his joke. Even Sage. He was just standing there, in that corner. With his mocking eyes and sadistic smile. Waving that blood-stained knife.