by R. K. Star
“Please stop writing and bring your paper to the front.” I could tell it was one of the proctors making her way down enforcing the time limit. She was getting closer to me.
Seven questions left. I began bubbling the answer and my pencil disappear from my hand. I look up and the proctor had a frown on her face. “Didn’t you hear, the exam was over three minutes ago. Bring your paper to the front now.” She handed back my pencil with a furious expression.
“Sorry, I was so focused on the exam. I had no idea.” I gave a teary eye look to appear genuine.
As I walk up to the front I finished bubbling in that circle. Six question I didn’t answer. In one week, I will find out how I did. This was my last exam but then I also registered for summer courses so I didn’t have a summer break.
13
Transfer
I got an email from Danny saying he was staying in Japan for the summer because he was having a great time. He sent me pictures of all his Japanese friends doing so many different activities. I was happy for him and jealous at the same time—I would never have that kind of fun.
For my summer studies, I had a boring opportunity to do an Internship at San Francisco university. The description of the internship was tedious and dull, it was a piece of shit. The only bright side was that I could spend missed time with my father and continue my course work. It was the only reason why I accepted the internship at this blood sucking, parasitic company, that was looking to take advantage of me.
I packed a suitcase by shoving some clothing in. Lately I found myself frustrated and easily annoyed but I couldn’t figure out why. I couldn’t be bothered to fold my clothes, I was just irritated by thinking of having to pack. I did organize it as I place my articles of clothes in one section and hygiene products in another. It was one thing to not care but another thing to be reckless.
Before long I found myself on the Caltrain, there was always a few people on the train that were hobos or punks. There was one person in cargo shorts with stains and a plain grey shirt that had years of abuse. His hair was oily and in a tangled mess. I was sitting across from him but I could sense his odour penetrating through the air towards me. He gave me a glimpse every now and then which made me weary of him. I’ve grown cautious to people that look like that. I had a prejudice against them, I didn’t care. I really hated people like that and it was in my right after experiencing what I had. Directly across me was a punk in his young twenties. He has a dog collar on with spikes protruding from it. His hair was gel with a similar spike fashion. He wore a black jacket with a skull on it and no shirt underneath. His left wrist had a black thick bracelet with studs. His jeans were black with multiple tears and rips and his pale skin underneath popped out in contrast. His shoes completed his look, black with black laces and studded. He thought he was unique, cool, hip. He thought everyone was at awe at how he looks and we stared in amazement at him. He thought he was going to make a difference in the world. The truth was everyone thought he was an idiot, he was stupid. They thought he was a moron and lack common sense. They thought his parents lack teaching and therefore didn’t raise him properly. They thought everything that was opposite of what he presents himself to be. Sometimes we forget and we are quick to judge. I always said be quick to judge but quicker to judge yourself. One could argue that “they” are confine to society norm and can’t see beyond was society sets. One could say that the ‘punk’ is trying to rebel or get attention. One could say many things but the fact is, rarely is anyone correct.
“Next stop, San Francisco,” the sound came from the automated system. I looked up and the digital sign indicated we were arriving at the San Francisco terminal.
I didn’t want to wait to exit the train so I stood up and waited at the doors. People got up and followed behind me, some people remain seated, they weren’t in a hurry to their next destination. I got off the train quickly before the influx of people tried to make it into the train. It was a fight between people trying to exit and people rushing in to take their vacant seats so they wouldn’t have to stand.
Everything was so familiar, it felt good to know where things were and how to navigate without thought. There was always a comfort with routine. Although it’s fun and exciting with new things, nothing beats comfort it’s so satisfying. Good things were never meant to last long for me. While I was walking I saw Lisa and her friends snickering. I didn’t see Stephanie or Joan with Lisa. She was with two other girls and with just one look I knew I didn’t like them either. They were dress as if they were working the streets. Spaghetti strap tank tops with gum drop nipples sticking through the thin fabric and skirts so short I was getting lucky for free.
I was getting angry, upset and nervous just seeing her. I turned away to face a post so she wouldn’t see me. I had nothing to be ashamed of. I never wrong them. Yet I knew I wasn’t hiding because I was guilty but because I was scared. Something in those years of bullying conditioned a fear deep within me and I wasn’t sure how to break free from it. I stood next to the post motion-less but inside I trembled. The tranquil serenity within my comfort state vanish and I want nothing more but to bolt out of the scene but I knew Lisa would then take note of me and probably laugh at how pitiful I was. I didn’t have to use my power to know that she was getting closer to me. I could feel her presence creeping closer, closer, closer. I felt her eyes fixated on me. She probably thought who was this idiot standing next to the post. I let my mind drift off, it wasn’t long after Lisa walked off before I opened my eyes. I felt foolish but I continued on my way.
When I came through the door my father was filled with euphoria. He had a wide smile from cheek to cheek with wrinkles on his forehead. His eyes lit up and creases formed on the side of his eye. Grey battled the dark brown in his hair and was pushing the colour away in long streaks. He was aging fast, he had trouble getting up from the chair and his legs had a fit of temper, almost as if they were teenagers and didn’t want to listen to him. He stretched out his hands to give him swinging momentum to rise and for balance. A grunt on his face and an ache showed the displeasure of pressure on the joints of his body. His skin had lost its elasticity and a scent came off him, not a bad scent but a scent of age. I went to him and embraced him with a hug. I missed him but was nervous he might fall. The emotional stress of being alone has not been kind to him. Surprisingly we didn’t have much to talk about, our connection has drifted. We talked about the weather and how my schooling was going and other small talk but lack meaningful depth. We've grown apart in such a short time and we found ourselves watching television to pass the time. It was silent and I felt something was amiss. When the hour arrived at ten into the night I kissed my father on the cheek goodnight and went to my room. Part of me wants him to retire to bed early to relax but in truth I felt awkward sitting in silence with my own father for such a long time.
Ten was way too early for bed, I would have spent hours tossing and turning on my mattress before drifting into a sub conscious state. I turned on my laptop, procrastinating, I check out some video clips that was recommended. I found myself giggling and trying to keep quiet as I knew my dad had also went to bed. The last thing I want to do was wake him and have another awkward moment. The time flew buy rather quick, one moment I viewed a hilarious clip, then an emotional clip, then an inspirational clip. One clip after the next and I found it was midnight before I knew it. I grew bored of watching video clips and went to social media. There were some friend suggestions and one suggestion ask if I knew Joan Nifor. I knew that bitch all right but I want nothing to do with her. Yet I clicked her profile and started looking at what she was up too again. She didn’t have a privacy barrier and I could see anything and everything she posted. I saw a post of her with large groups of her friends. She had light red auburn hair now, it complimented her green eyes. She still had those hideous fake eyelashes and a thick layer of makeup. I would wish upon her all the hideous acne and zits underneath her makeup. I truly wished she was a beast underneath her fake powdere
d visage. The more I looked into her life and how happy she was the more I wanted to slap her. The image of me slapping her brought great amusement. I found myself smiling and laughing at the thought. Joan has done so much harm to me why shouldn’t I get even with her. Especially now, as I levitated a pen off my desk with delight at what I could do.
14
Joan Nifor
From her social media profile, I found out the apartment she was residing. She was staying at an attractive place, the colours of the building were a vibrant red with floral trees and bushes surrounding the property. The place had a nice fitness centre and pool. I would kill that bitch to live there.
I stood by the tree to conceal myself, there wasn’t many people passing by and the neighbourhood was quiet. All I had to do was be a burrowing spider, hide so no one could see me then surprise my victim when she passes by. Joan was a creature of habit, she would get coffee regularly in the morning and sometimes on Wednesday or Thursday afternoons. Tuesday and Thursday she went to the gym for cardio. Monday she did yoga and Saturday she had a hip hop dance class. Frequently she would venture out on the weekends and many of those evenings she would bring a man back to her residence. Sometimes the man would leave after an hour or two. Sometimes the man would leave late in the morning the next day. There was no doubt in my mind what the bitch was doing, she was satisfying herself, satisfying her hormonal urges. A few times at the beginning, Joan almost caught sight of me but I learned quickly, the key was to know which objects could conceal you and know your timing. It was a dance, soft and nimble but you must be quick and certain. Careful steps forwards, walking with confidence as to not draw attention and then side stepping out of existence to blend with the postal drop off or feigning your laces are undone and crouching next to the fire hydrant to obscure your face. I quite enjoy doing this, I had a skill for being a detective. Tuesday and Thursday was the best time to strike. It was in the evening when she would return home from her workout routine, a quiet time in her neighbourhood.
I practiced patience to wait for my day, and finally my day of revenge arrived. I leaned on a large tree of the adjacent building with my head tilted down. I had my hair tied into a bun and covered it with a roomy cap. I wore tint sunglasses to obscure my appearance. I dressed in a casual shirt and pants as to not draw any unnecessary attention. I held on to a large tourist map to pretend I was looking for a place. In honesty, I couldn’t imagine any young adult using a map at this day and age. A few clicks on your mobile device and all the answers and information you desire would appear before you. If you look closely, my story didn’t add up. I was a suspicious person standing there in the evening with a tourist map. A dim light peaked from the horizon of the road. I saw car headlights quickly approach and then stop. The sound of engine in the distance and then silence. I heard the door open and close. A woman walked past me in her black tights and grey zip up hoodie. I let her walk a few steps ahead of me then casually I trailed behind her as if I finally found the place I want to go to on my map. I walked so delicately and quietly that no one would hear me coming. My right foot moved with her right foot, then my left foot with her left foot. We were a symbiotic organism in perfect harmony, our steps corresponded as if a rigid stick held them together. I followed her arm swinging motion too, left with right, left with right. I could have been in the army, I was a natural.
She approached the front of her apartment and stop for a moment to open the door. I slowed down to maintain my distance. Quietly I open the door to her apartment and slipped in. She was standing next to the elevator, the up button was lit. I heard the gentle noise of the elevator coming down and the doors opened. Joan stepped in and turned around quickly, so quickly that I forget to turn away. She saw me in the near distance and called out. “Are you coming?”
My eyes darted left and right, I took my gazed away from her eyes. ‘Shoot! What should I do now? She saw me, does she recognize me? I have to say something, I have to say something…’
“I’m waiting for someone…” I cried back out in a weak voice, purposely trying to alter the pitch to sound different but not unnatural.
This was a complete disaster, I waited so long for this day and I blew it. Should I still follow her up to her level? I could run up the stairs quickly and surprise her as she entered her room. But she saw me, should I just give up today and try again next time.
The thought of what I should do passed back and forth a few times and before I knew it ten minutes had passed by. The opportunity for surprise had vanished. I had no other choice but to go home.
I had trouble sleeping that night, why didn’t I just follow her up the elevator and get into her place. I should have beaten the hell out of her right then and there. I lost my chance, should I forget about getting even with Joan. But then what about Stephanie? What about Lisa? Fury raged throughout my body, I could feel my frustration, the perspiration on my forehead even though it was a cool night. My body tensed up and my stomach churn and gurgled. I had a strong feeling of malaise and it was going to keep me up well into the night today. Anger and hatred was constantly in my mind but mostly I was angry and hated myself.
6:27am the clock read. I couldn’t even recall how many times I had look at the clock throughout the night. But it had been well over ten. I predict I slept five minutes here and ten there, for the whole night. There was no point in me staying in bed. I got out and freshen myself in the bathroom and went to procrastinate on my laptop. I made eggs, sausage and toast for breakfast. My father had a routine time of having breakfast at quarter past seven and today was no different. I ate quickly and said I had to go to the university for early preparations. In reality I didn’t want to stay and sit at the table in bumbling silence.
I couldn’t figure out if I should continue with my plans as before or just scratch it off. The day went by and I was mindless. Honestly I couldn’t recall what occurred in the day. I couldn’t remember a word my professor spoke in the lecture.
Before I knew it, it was midnight and I was feeling tired. My mind was still wandering endlessly but I could feel my eyes were weary and I knew I was exhausted. The lack of sleep last night fatigue my body even more then I realized, although the outer shell doesn’t show signs of weariness. It was easy to pass into subconscious tonight.
Today was Thursday, I made myself commit to either doing it today or not doing it at all and letting go of the hatred. I force myself to come to a decision yet I pushed the thought out of my mind. I didn’t want to think of it. I would let the day go by and what comes of it, that is what will happen.
It was time for me to make my move. I was wandering around at a nearby strip mall at the time. Slowly I walked towards Joan apartment complex. As I walk I could feel my resolve grow stronger and stronger. I had to do this for me, for closure. I would never let someone walk over me again. It would be a new inception for me and I would be the strongest I’ve ever been this day forth.
After waiting for a moment, I saw a vehicle approach and I stared at it. There was no doubt who it was. I started to walk towards the apartment before Joan even noticed me. I moved in a slow pace and very leisurely made my way towards the entrance. Joan was walking at a brisk pace and not long she way trailing just a few steps behind me. I open the main doors but there was another set of lock doors that require a key fob to open or you had to buzz the door number of your contact. From the distance, I worked the mechanism and a slight buzzing sound triggered indicating the lock was disabled. I hope she didn’t notice that I hadn’t used a key fob to open the door. I held the door open to let Joan in but without looking up, so to give away my face.
“Thank you,” Joan responded. She made a short sprint to reach the door.
This time I would call for the elevator. I knew Joan lived at the eighth floor and I would pretend I was on the same floor. As the door opened, I rushed in first to press the number eight on the elevator panel and stepped to the back corner as Joan followed in. Joan reach to press but saw it was already lit and retr
eated to the back of the elevator.
The elevator ride seems especially slow. “Very nice day today,” Joan said calmly. She must have felt somewhat awkward with the long ride up to the top floor.
“Yup,” I responded with a closed sentence word in another tone. I didn’t want to encourage more talking; I could feel the strong pulsing of blood through my arteries. I thought Joan might even hear the thumping of my heart.
I kept my head down the whole time, still and stiff as a wooden board.
Ding, a sound chimed. “Floor eight,” a woman’s voice came from the speaker panel.
Joan made no delay and exited the elevator. Promptly I made chase and followed her. I match my steps to her harmoniously. I don’t think she knew I was following just steps behind her. She had her key at hand and slip it into the deadbolt lock, with a quick turn she opened the door and step in swinging the door behind her. I pushed on the door to prevent it from closing and let myself in.
“Ahh,” Joan squawk out, suddenly realizing someone was following her and entered her apartment.
“Hello Joan.” I let out a grimace of a smile. This was the surprise I wanted and the surprise I was going to give her. I wanted her heart to beat with fear. I shut the door behind me and locked it. She had her walls painted a shy blue colour with prominent artwork displaying to pop from the walls. She had nice taste in picking decorative pieces around the living room. There were luxurious furniture around indicating she adored comfort.
“Layana, is that you. What the hell are you doing here?” Joan had a flabbergasted look on her dull face but breathed a sigh of relief. I could tell she was happy that it wasn’t some overzealous sex manic serial killer in front of her.
“Yes, it’s Layana, you remembered the girl with the stupid name.” I remembered they teased my name so often. Never did Joan, Stephanie and Lisa fail to remind me of how stupid my name was, never.
