Kiya

Endless amounts of text on the human body are slowly putting me to sleep.

It's the start of my sophomore year, we're only a few weeks in, but I'm already studying in the library on a Friday night.

Most of the students here amongst me are guilty of procrastinating until the very last moment to finish their work. They are now struggling to finish their essays before their deadline at midnight, this very same Friday. It's the typical student culture. Who doesn't recognize themselves in that behavior—keep on postponing until the last minute.

It is close to 11 pm now. I've been looking at how the library slowly empties out. Heaps of students make it to the exit with either a content expression or the opposite-looking beatdown—having surrendered to the fact they won't succeed and therefore just submitted their work.

I continue to study, forcing myself to look at my books. However, I am not doing a great job as I keep looking up whenever someone passes by me to leave. A wave of anxiety cripples me as I watch more people leave.

A little after 11 pm, I gather my study books and put them all away; to leave. Most people have already left, and I am not looking forward to spending time, all alone, in a massive library.

I've never been a fan of spending time alone, it makes me an easy target. That trauma stems from my childhood and from a horror movie I've seen recently. I get aggravated by any sound when I'm alone.

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I make my way towards the exit of this dusty library that still holds character.

I'm leaving much earlier than I had previously anticipated.

I had planned to stay here all night. I have a quiz on Monday for Human Anatomy. That also happens to be my excuse to be here instead of out partying. Though, without it—I would be in exactly the same place.

Parties are not my scene. Any social gathering isn't my scene honestly, so whenever I get invited to something I will say I need to study. My friends know it's not true but they started to accept it at one point. They still verbally invite me out of courtesy.

I walk by the library reception on my way toward the exit. I spot Miss Stone behind the counter, her legs perched up and engrossed with a book as her night shift is about to start.

"Goodnight, Miss Stone," I say my goodbyes to the librarian who has helped me on multiple occasions.

"Night dear, good luck with your exam." She smiles.

Miss Stone is too kind for this world. I always get that motherly feeling from her whenever I'm here, it makes up for the fact that I only see my mother a few times a year at most since she lives in Pittsburgh.

"Thank you so much, I will need it." I smile back at her before continuing to the exit.

I'm going to fuck up this exam. I was warned about studying Human Physiology before I landed in college but it was always a dream of mine; ever since I was 14, I had broken my ankle and ended up going to physical therapy.

I can't say the physiotherapists there inspired me to become one too, but the whole process of being in physical therapy is what motivated me to become one. At the time I was very dissatisfied with the treatment, nothing worked. This is when I started to research methods myself, miraculously I was able to find a treatment that worked.

After that, I became obsessed with the physical healing process of the human body.

In high school, I volunteered to help the physician for the football team—it was mainly to learn more in the field—that launched me into deciding to do my major in physical therapy.

Throughout high school, I managed to keep my grades up. My extracurricular activity for the football team and my good grades led to me now having a partial scholarship here at the university.

When I got the news, I was over the moon. It was a huge deal. I never expected to get a scholarship in the first place. When I heard my best friend Tamara got in too, things couldn't be greater.

At the time, I was so happy.

You might've noticed the past tense. Things have changed since then.

Everything became a downward spiral quickly after the start of my freshman year.

I wish she never got in. Halfway through freshman year, we turned against each other—I'm actually not saying that right—she turned against me.

I wish I had realized she was a conniving bitch earlier.

Honestly, the signs had always been there, from a young age even, but I never recognized them. I was too naive and easily manipulated.

She had been planning it for a while. Tamara is obsessed with attention. She just needed me, in the beginning, to get her name out there—she needed followers. When she had gained said new friends, she no longer needed me.

Halfway through freshman year, Tamara got together with a jock from the hockey team, Del. I think it might've been her goal since the start. It undoubtedly boosted her popularity tremendously. The more popularity she got the more power she had—a power-hungry wolf she is.

I don't know much about him. At that point, Tamara had long forgotten about me.

I know she and him have broken up since. Her toxic traits are most likely what made him break things off. I would very much like to know how much she manipulated him and played with his head, she is a master at that.

I push my way through the door and feel the cold evening breeze on my skin. I pull the cuffs of my sweatshirt over my hands to keep myself warm as I walk back to my dorm building. Now that it's September the nights are getting colder.

I avoid walking over the grass, knowing they turn on the sprinklers at night.

During my journey home, I see heaps of students walking in groups across campus—returning home or going somewhere just now.

It's never silent here on the weekends.

I would rather spend my Friday nights at the library studying than attend a frat party. I'm an introvert. I get nervous in social situations, so I stay out of them. There is a reason for that. And that reason is a woman—Tamara.

The girl that had been my friend for years before she turned on me. Let's elaborate a bit more here, there is so much to uncover it's insane.

After our fallout, she had spread numerous fake lies about me. Having worked her way to get relatively popular made everyone side with her without giving it a second thought. I'm scared that if I go to parties, the people there will despise me. So I never go.

People have false opinions and assumptions about me now. I am judged.

I try to stay hidden.

I finally reach my building, having avoided most people on the street. I see someone else walking up there to the front door. A broad guy, who I don't recognize yet, gets to the door earlier than me and opens it. He doesn't let it fall closed behind him, he must have noticed me approaching behind him.

I quickly slip through the door that's held open by him. When I'm safe inside, he lets go of the door. It falls back into its lock behind us.

"Thanks," I say as I'm secure inside the building.

That is when he turns to look at me. I finally recognize him.

It's Del.

I freeze as I see him.

Speaking of the devil's sidekick, he is standing right in front of me as he gives me a quick look once over. There is a glint of recognition in his eyes, he knows who I am. He clears his throat before he mutters, "no problem," and then moves past me to walk to the elevator.

He definitely knows who I am.

I am still standing by the door as I watch him press the button to go up. The elevator doors open. He goes to look behind him to see if I'm following him into the elevator, but I'm not. That's when I realize I'm standing here, frozen in place. I quickly move to my mailbox, located against the wall, and take out my key to pretend I'm checking if I got any mail.

There is no way I'm getting in that elevator with him that'd be too awkward.

I pretend to be busy with my mailbox as I put the key in to open it up. Turning the key, not once do I look at him. As he stands in the elevator, I can feel his stare burn into my side. When I hear the elevator doors close, I let out a sigh and lean my head forward in relief.

I have never talked to Del. When he got together with Tamara, we already were no longer friends.

She must've told him all sorts of stories about me, negative mostly I assume. Therefore I'm not looking to start a conversation with him. Plus, I'd have nothing to talk about with him. He's some kind of sports fanatic—your basic day-to-day jock.

I'm sure he doesn't like me. Although he has never given me any dirty looks while he was with Tamara, he never made it a point to look at me at all. Like I was a void—nothing worth looking at.

After waiting for several minutes, I walk up to the elevator. Knowing there is no way to see him anywhere or on any floor of the building anymore. 

I'm not even sure what floor is his. I haven't seen him in this building before, which isn't unrealistic since this is a big building, and they often assign students to new dorms at the beginning of the school year—not me though my roommates and I are staying put.

The building I live in is gigantic. Each floor has multiple halls, so you could easily get lost when you're here for the first time.

I get to my dorm and unlock the door. I first enter the common room before heading to my room. In my room, I take a towel and some fresh pajamas out before I hop into our shared bathroom, located in the back of our little living space.

I strip down and turn on the shower as I get in. I lean against the wall as I let the water encase me. I breathe in the steamy shower air as the water sprinkles onto me. I am tired, and not even sure why I got in the shower. I was going to take one tomorrow morning anyway.

After being drenched enough for my liking, I turn off the shower and reach out for my towel to dry myself off.

Now that my shower is turned off—no more streaming water blocking out any sounds—I can hear the shower on the other side of the wall audibly running. Apparently, I'm not the only one who thought it'd be a good idea to take a shower at this time.

I have no idea what room is on the other side of this wall. Like I said before, you could get lost here—this dorm building is kind of like a maze.

//

Happy first chapter!! I really hope you enjoy it, this story is a new project for me and I'm very happy to start it and see where it takes me :))

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