Undoing

I am alive. I am breathing. I feel, I move and maybe, one day, I might even grow.

Nerezz repeated this mantra every day. Repetition, as he had been told, is the key to wellness. Mantras and medicine.

Mantras and medicine…

He slipped on his raggedy black sneakers, throwing on a raven gray coat and left his dark apartment. Despite the darkness that clung to those melancholic blue walls, leaving them always revived the hungry anxiety that thrived within him.

It was nothing new – nothing exciting. Nothing noteworthy. Every day for the past six years felt like this.

It wasn’t sadness, he pondered as he walked down a path to his first lecture. Or, perhaps it was. A kind of sadness, all consuming in its tinted hue that it actually blocked out the primary emotion. A blanket sadness – too large to actually feel sad.

The grass was dewy in the early winter morning. The trees were bare and students huddled in groups as they talked and laughed among themselves. Nerezz felt no envy – no desire to be a part of that world. Like a tear to a gleeful face; they were worlds apart. Far removed from the world Nerezz was trapped in.

Arriving at his first lecture of the day, Nerezz chose the seat at the very back – right near the exit. Strategically, that way if he decided to leave he could do so quietly and unnoticed. The lecture hall was massive, it could easily seat three hundred students – and most days it did. He had hoped, after graduating high-school in his lethargic state, that following his former passion would reignite the spark of life within him – his passion for writing.

It didn’t.

His green eyes remained dead: devoid of light. A blank canvas for a face.

And so, the English literature lecture began. The professor explaining feminist theory and its relevance to the prescribed novel. Yet, Nerezz didn’t care. He didn’t hear; he simply sat.

Perhaps that’s my new nuance – carelessness, he thought vacantly.

The scratching of pens on paper, the bangs of fingertips on keyboards drowned the lecture hall – it was all so loud. So unbearably loud and so…productive. The guilt pounced on small Nerezz and he couldn’t take the weight, so he got up and left. He silently existed the lecture hall – no one noticed… no one cared.

*****

It was cold, he registered that. His breath made mist, simple pleasures of the season that went unnoticed by their uncaring host.

It was the same route from campus to his studio apartment.

A gust of wind rushed passed Nerezz, his long black hair came slightly undone. And, again, he didn’t care. He simply tucked the loose strands behind his ears and continued on.

“I’m late for English Lit, I can’t talk right now-” a bustling African American man on his phone bumped into Nerezz, knocking both their satchels down.

“Oh man! I’m so sorry”, the man apologised, quickly picking up the scattered pages and bags.

“Don’t worry about it”, Nerezz offered, picking up his empty satchel that he – practically – only carried for show.

“Wait… You’re that guy that gets perfect scores on all the literature essays!” The man looked at Nerezz with expectation.

It wasn’t a question. Yet, the young man looked as if he expected a response.

“My name’s Nerezz”, he offered weakly.

“James, nice to meet you”, the man held out his hand, “Why aren’t you in class?”

Nerezz meekly grasped James’ hand and shook it slightly, “I…got bored”, he finalised his lie.

“I know it’s sudden, but we have the Ovid essay due soon – could you help me? I’ll totally pay you”, James begged.

Nerezz scratched the back of his neck. He wanted to go back to his dark apartment. He wanted to drown, he wanted to be swallowed by the earth – he didn’t know how to interact with people anymore.

But he needed the money – if not for rent for utilities.

“I guess…” Nerezz relented quietly.

“Yes! Can we meet at the library around lunch? Yes? Cool! See ya!” The bouncy man sprinted off without waiting for a reply. He had an air of purpose, a quality of confidence that had left Nerezz wondering if he possessed it in the past.

“Now I can’t go home…” Nerezz muttered. He turned on his heel and started slowly stalking to the library.

*****

It had warmed up considerably. Nerezz shed his heavy coat but found safety in his black turtleneck. The sun gently basked down through the wintery clouds. It could be beautiful if little Nerezz only allowed it to be.

He leaned against the wall of the library waiting for James. Despite his purpose, he had lost himself in an abyss of thought.

I wouldn’t be missed.

“Nerezz!” A call came from the right. James quickly made his way over, barely breaking a sweat. But, he wasn’t alone. He had brought, what Nerezz assumed, was a friend. Dirty blonde hair and striking blue eyes, clearly an athlete. Nerezz avoided looking up at the man – he genuinely didn’t care. He had a goal – help James and then leave.

The trio made it inside and Nerezz wasted no time explaining the content of the poem, the theme and its relation to feminist thought. He felt those piercing blue eyes on him the entire time and it unsettled him.

“Okay, I get it now! I’ll write it…but would you mind proof reading it when I’m done? That will earn you an extra fifty bucks”, James grinned.

“Sure”, Nerezz responded absently, grabbing his coat and empty satchel as he made his way out.

“My name’s Axel”, a deep voice spoke from beside James.

Nerezz turned around and finally made eye contact with the blonde Axel, “It’s nice to meet you, Axel”, he answered mechanically.

Finally he began his journey back to his webbed, haunted apartment.

I wonder if I’ll go through with it tonight… The dark Nerezz wondered.