When the Sky Goes Dark

by Oliver C Seneca

  “And you couldn’t tell me, right? YOU just had to wait until I got it in the mail. Making me feel like an absolute FUCKING MORON thinking MY SON is taking care of business at school and getting the grades I EXPECT HIM TO GET IN THIS HOUSE AND TO REMEMBER HIS GODDAMNED ASSIGNMENTS.” Big Jon picked up the crumpled progress report and slammed it down again. Little Jon remained standing with his backpack slung over one shoulder. Glasses foggy from the sweat of fear. He couldn’t move. There was nothing that could be done. It was an impenetrable anger.

  “UnFUCKINGbelievable, Jon. Get the HELL out of here! Go to your room! Get the HELL out of here! Get the FUCK out of here!” Big Jon was pointing to the stairs. His other hand gripped to his hip. “Your room and I don’t want to hear any of those FUCKING games playing, FUCKING movies or anything! And if I hear ONE of those FUCKING things, even a peep, you can bet your ASS I’m coming in there and ripping them out of the FUCKING wall, do you hear me? Out of the FUCKING WALL and into the GOD. DAMN. TRASH!”

  Little Jon began to shuffle toward the stairs without looking into his father’s eyes. No way could he meet them.

  “Do you hear me, you little bastard?” Big Jon asked.

  Little Jon nodded. His body trembled. “I. . . I hear you, dad. I’m sorry.”

  “Go on! And don’t say sorry to me, sorry means SHIT! I don’t want to see you for the rest of the night. You get in your room and do all the assignments you have RIGHT NOW! And if you don’t have any assignments, MAKE SOME UP OR I’LL GIVE YOU SOME PAPERS TO WRITE! All I want is a son to remember his GODDAMN assignments and not put things off until the last minute. Jesus Christ! What a DOPE of a father I must be, letting my son FUCK AROUND and not do his WORK!”

  Little Jon retreated to his room. The battle had been lost. A brutal defeat. The words would leave a scar just as the ones that had proceeded it. More scars would come. But it was alright. Little Jon understood there were times for punishment and discipline. You could at least give points to Mr. Barnes for not getting physical with his son. That would have left literal scars you could see. Those would lead to therapy and Jon was more interested in providing therapy than being a client to it.

  Still, Little Jon knew that his father recovered quite quickly from an outburst like that. It would be awkward the next time Jon would see his dad when he had calmed down and acted almost as if he was unaware of the amount of volume and cursing capacity he provided. It was as if his dad would have to become a character of an angered and disappointed parent to put on a fiery, theatrical performance for all to hear. This would include Mrs. Barnes who heard everything, even though she had sat in her bed with the TV on the entire time Jon was being bombarded with shouts. They couldn’t make a TV to go up loud enough to drown out that sound.

  The next morning, Big Jon would apologize to his son over Frosted Flakes for what he had said and the two of them would discuss the matter in a more civilized manner as Jon choked down the sugary flakes that cut his throat. Little Jon said he would promise to be more organized and less focused on entertainment. Made sure he completed his work and ask the teacher for help if he was confused.

  Big Jon would explain how his dad yelled at him, even worse so, how his dad used a leather belt to whip his ass when he stepped out of line. Thankfully, that tradition stopped. After enough years had passed, Big Jon and Grandpa would even laugh about it. Jon figured that time healed all wounds and made them funny.

  “Alright, son,” Big Jon said at the dining table the following morning. “Are we ok?”

  “Yeah, we’re ok.”

  Big Jon would then kiss the top of Little Jon’s messy, brown hair. All was well and back to normal. They would get back on to good terms, until the next time when the same progression of yelling, tears, and awkward makeup would play out just as it had before.

  Just as Grandpa did it to Big Jon and Big Jon did it to Little Jon, Little Jon would one day do it to his son. Hopefully, not with the same amount of anger. And if he did, he would at least try to remember what he had said.

  Chapter SEVEN

  The Arrival

  They walked right through the grass as Melissa’s dorm was in the building across from theirs. As they strolled toward the building, Brandon swung his lanyard keys around his fingers.

  The group of students sitting in the grassy circle all talked to one another. Jon couldn’t quite make out what they were saying as his nerves ran wild. The closer they approached Melissa’s dorm, the closer Jon was to having a heart attack.

  “You ready for this?” Brandon asked Jon as they approached the stairs leading up to the place.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jon said, sounding like he was out of breath. He put his fingers in his hair to fix it up, forgetting he had just done it a moment ago in the mirror. In fact, he messed it up again by doing it.

  Walking up the stairs to Melissa’s place, they heard yelling coming from one of the other dorms above them. It wasn’t clear what was being shouted, but it startled Jon.

  “What the hell is going on up there?” Jon asked as he paused for a minute on the stairs, looking up.

  “Probably a couple of kids getting wasted is all,” Brandon replied. “Don’t worry about it. We won’t be going up there anyway. Melissa and Kat are right here.”

  Kat. Ugh.

  After one flight of steps, Jon and Brandon arrived at the cemented hallway outside of the dorm rooms. The smell of a warm breeze and cigarette smoke blew through it. The outside walls were made from regular red brick that looked gritty and dirty from the shine of the harsh, florescent rods above. A small lamp hung in front of each of the doors, casting light on each of the numbers.

  “Room 203, right here,” Brandon said, approaching the door while fixing up his shirt.

  Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. KNOCK. KNOCK.

  “Coming!” a female voice uttered behind the door. Jon could hear her footsteps approaching the door to answer it from the other side. His heart was beating in his ears at this point. Was Skylar going to open the door? Would it be Melissa? Kat?

  The yelling was still going on in a dorm above them. Loud music. Yells.

  Melissa greeted Jon and Brandon at the door to her and Kat’s dorm. She was dolled up with heavy eye makeup, more so than she usually does. She was wearing a black, flowing shirt that cut off right above her stomach. There was an exotic looking silver piercing in her belly button. Jon never saw that outfit before. He pondered if Skylar was into that look and was wearing that same outfit tonight. He’d like to see that.

  She looked tired, but her eyes lit up at the sight of Brandon in front of her. Jon stood behind him trying to play it cool as his now messy hair peeked over Brandon’s shoulder. Brandon was about six inches taller than him.

  “Hey, guys!” Melissa said and reached up to give a hug to Brandon.

  “Thanks for having us over Lis.” Brandon bent down to hug Melissa as he was almost double her height. “This is my roommate Jon.”

  Jon stuck his hand out to shake Melissa’s.

  “Of course! Jon! We have Weiss’ class together! It’s nice to meet a familiar face!” Melissa said, seeming tipsy. Brandon’s always said that once you get a little alcohol in a girl she will be friendlier than ever before. Jon never saw Melissa be this personable. Brandon must be on to something.

  “You too Melissa, Brandon has told me all about you,” Jon said, trying to appear normal and not anxious at all.

  Melissa laughed and ran her fingers down her hair. She shook Jon’s hand and said, “Oh is that right? I hope it was good things!” She gave Brandon a flirtful nudge on his arm as he walked in.

  “Absolutely!” Jon said and smirked.

  “Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Jon. Please come into our lovely dorm and make yourself at home!”

  He and Brandon entered the living/kitchen area of the dorm. It was identical to theirs, as they all were, with a cozy living area including a blue fabric couch, two matching chairs facing each other on either side of a circula
r brown and worn-down coffee table. One chair had a pile of books stacked on top. The other had napkins on it. There were multiple water bottles thrown down on it with some glasses of what looked like wine. Jon couldn’t tell as he wasn’t much of a drinker. It could’ve just been cranberry juice for all he knew. A TV set sat on a wooden shelf across from the couch playing some show on mute. A poster of the Eiffel Tower was taped above the couch with fancy cursive lettering plastered around it. LIVE. LAUGH. LOVE. EXPLORE. It was typical college chick dorm decor.

  On the opposite side of the room was the kitchen, which appeared not too well maintained. Dishes were piled in the sink. There were old cereal bowls with remnants of sugary flakes still stuck on the sides sitting on the bar by the fridge. The trash can was filled to the brim with cardboard boxes from microwavable meals, empty soda cans and water bottles crunched up on top.

  You’d think Melissa would tidy up since she was having company. That’s what Jon thought to himself anyway. He wondered what their bedrooms must look like.

  With the mess that was the living and kitchen area of Melissa’s dorm, Jon didn’t realize that there was another person in the room. Sitting in the middle of the blue couch was a tall, dark, buzzed-hair guy with a scruffy beard whom Jon didn’t recognize. He held his phone in his hand as he was laying back into the couch cushion, causing his navy-blue shirt to ruffle. It wasn’t sweaty like Brandon’s shirt but looked similar. He was another athletic guy.

  For a second, he was confused and thought it was Melissa’s boyfriend. What were they doing alone in this dorm together before Brandon and he showed up? Then he wondered where Skylar was. How about Kat?

  “Yo man,” Brandon said. He reached out and slapped the guy on his hand. “This is my roommate Jon.”

  “How’s it going man, I’m Hunter, I’m Brandon’s buddy from basketball. We go way back,” he said, nodding his head back with a smile. He looked high, or drunk. Perhaps he was a mixture of both. He and Melissa would make a great couple.

  “Nice to meet you,” Jon said, returning the nod.

  “Yeah man,” Hunter continued, “Brandon was the shit back in high school. The ladies loved him. If you stuck with this guy, you could get any girl you wanted just by standing next to him. Even in that sweaty ass shirt, he could score. Did he ever tell you about that one chick, what was her name? Stephanie something.”

  Brandon laughed and said, “I don’t think we gotta get into all that now dude.”

  “Oh man, there was this chick named Stephanie. You gotta tell Jon about it. After that one game, we had with Cedar Heights, man. . . ”

  THUD. It sounded like someone fell down on the dorm from upstairs. Everyone looked up for a moment.

  “I honestly can’t even remember,” Brandon said in an effort to get off the subject.

  Hunter then turned his head over to Melissa, who was clearing off the cluttered chairs. “Hey Lis, you still think Brandon’s cute with his stinky clothes? Would you let him smash? I bet you would huh?”

  Melissa looked up from her cleaning and blushed. “Oh my God, Hunter! Shut up! You’re such a fuckin’ creep!” She picked up one of the small textbooks on the chair and chucked it at him.

  “Woah, chill!” Hunter said as the book just missed hitting his big drunken head. Or stoned head. Either would be an appropriate description of his head. Jon still didn’t know what his gig was.

  All three of them laughed. Brandon’s faced turned red.

  “I can’t believe you’d even say that,” Melissa said, looking pissed off. She turned back to cleaning off the chair. “Please don’t mind him, Jon.”

  Then Brandon asked Hunter the million-dollar question, “Where’s Skylar?”

  HEY YEAH, WHERE IS SKYLAR? Jon was screaming in his head.

  “She’s here. She’s usin’ the bathroom,” Hunter replied as he pointed his thumb toward the small, dark hallway that separated the living area from the kitchen. It led back to the girls’ two rooms and the bath.

  Jon heard a door creak open. Then, as if Hunter had summoned her, the woman of Jon’s dreams came walking out of that dark hallway and into the living area. She stood underneath the fluorescent light.

  Skylar Doyle.

  There she was, wearing a yellow and white striped shirt with tight white shorts. Her legs were smooth and tan. Jon didn’t know what to do. He froze as if he just saw Medusa. His mouth could’ve been hanging open, there was no way he could know at this point. Time stood still.

  “Sky, this is Jon. He has Weiss’ class with us,” Melissa said, jumping up from cleaning off the coffee table. She introduced the two with a smile.

  “Of course! I’m Skylar.” Skylar extended her hand out. She had what looked like flowers painted on her nails. “It’s nice to meet you, Jon. How did you like Weiss’ class this semester?”

  “Nice to meet you, Skylar. Yeah, I, uh. . . ” For a second, Jon didn’t know what words were.

  Another loud THUD came from upstairs.

  “I’ve actually had him for class before and I think he’s a really nice guy,” Jon said with his heart beating a thousand times per second. “His philosophy course was really interesting. Have you ever taken it?” The words got out, but in Jon’s mind, they sounded like mush. Hah, you evvr ttoo et?

  “Yeah was that a freshman course? Intro to philosophy?” she inquired.

  Jon smiled and nodded, afraid to speak anymore as the speed of his heart was now making him lightheaded.

  “That class was cool and he’s a real sweetheart. Have you finished your paper?” Skylar asked.

  Before Jon could answer and pass out, Hunter piped in and said, “Yeah she did, Skylar is a good little student.”

  Skylar leaned over the side of the couch and slapped Hunter on his arm. Not in a flirty way. She seemed annoyed. Hunter snickered in response.

  “I’m sorry Jon, don’t mind him. I don’t even know why I put up with him,” Skylar said half smiling.

  Melissa chimed in, “Yeah I don’t know why you don’t BREAK UP with him. All he does is drink and start SHIT.” She threw an empty water bottle at Hunter.

  Break up? Wait, wait, wait. Does that mean Skylar is dating this guy? Hunter? This slob? A girl of Skylar’s stature couldn’t be with a guy like that, right?

  “Yeah maybe you’re right,” Skylar said and then slapped Hunter's arm again, but this time it was harder. Hunter laughed and pulled her in to give her a hug. She fell into the couch beside him.

  “Hunter you smell like whiskey, ew! Let go!” Skylar said in disgust. She ripped herself out of his hug but remained on the couch next to him. “I’m sorry Jon,” she said with a disappointed look on her face. Jon’s face also had a look of disappointment and that’s probably why she appeared to feel so bad.

  Jon tried to laugh it off. “That’s alright, he’s ok.”

  “Jon, Brandon, please have a seat,” Melissa said. “I’ve cleaned these chairs for you. I don’t know where Kat’s been. She should’ve been here earlier to tidy the place up.”

  Jon took a seat on the big blue, square-cushioned chair. “Thank you,” Jon said. Brandon sat on the other one.

  Who cares where Kat is? Jon forgot all about her, especially after feeling the giant bomb drop on his heart upon seeing Skylar with her boyfriend.

  THUD.

  Melissa took the rest of the bottles off of the coffee table and stuffed them into the trash can that was already filled to the brim. She crushed them all down into the white trash bag. Crunch. Snap. Pop.

  She turned and came back into the living area and sat to the right of Hunter on the couch, closer to where Brandon was sitting. Jon was sitting by Skylar’s end of the couch. He felt so out of place. The door was right by Brandon’s chair and he wanted nothing more than to stand up and run right out. But he couldn’t. It would be too embarrassing. He just had to sit there and soak in the misery and discomfort.

  “Where is Kat? Did you text her?” Skylar asked, thumbing on her phone.

  “Yep. I texte
d her, I called her. She didn’t respond,” Melissa said. “The last I heard from her was yesterday when she was at the library studying for her biology final. I’m not even sure she slept here last night.”

  THUD.

  “For real, is anyone else hearing this shit?” Hunter asked. He looked at the ceiling, annoyed.

  “Yeah, it’s been going on for the past hour. I’m thinking about going up there and telling them to knock it off or I’m calling the fucking cops,” Melissa said, equally as annoyed.

  “If it happens again, I’m gonna go tell them myself. Brandon’s goin’ too,” Hunter proclaimed.

  Brandon just smiled over at Melissa and said, “Well hopefull–”

  THUD. CRASH.

  It sounded like dishes were being dropped now.

  “That’s it, c’mon B-man we’re going up there now,” Hunter said, popping up from the couch and pulling on Brandon’s leg. “Let’s go.”

  Brandon shot up from his chair.

  Skylar got up and grabbed both of Hunter’s arms from behind. “No, no. Hunter, you can’t do this. You’re not getting in another stupid fight.”

  “Babe it’s alright. I won’t hurt anybody,” Hunter said. He was wiggling his arms out of Skylar’s grip.

  “Seriously,” Skylar continued, “if you go up there, I’m going home. I’m not putting up with this tonight.” It was as if this wasn’t Skylar’s first rodeo with Hunter.

  “C’mon Brandon.” Hunter motioned over and they both started toward the door. Brandon told Jon to come along with them. Jon couldn’t refuse, so he just nodded and followed the two guys out from the dorm room and away from Skylar and Melissa.

  Chapter EIGHT

  Room 303

  The familiar scent of cigarette smoke and warm air helped put Jon at ease as the three of them exited Melissa’s dorm, back onto the cemented outdoor hallway of the second floor. He still wasn’t happy as Hunter was still there. However, the fact that he didn’t have to see him tugging and pulling on Skylar made it better.