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« on: February 02, 2016, 12:26:26 AM »
ADAM: IMPRESSION
Cruther Academy: my vitality and my venom. Took me apart in messy pieces, only to sew me back together with prefatory threads. It’s another part of the world where incognito thrives, where the latency of future chameleons join in a fruitful, decisive medley. Too bad I’m already bored with it.
My self-paletted research here confirmed at least one hypothesis: the spit and gas that comes out of people’s mouths dries up quickly. Exciting, this-is-just-in news gets replaced before you know it. Not even the enigmatic death of a punching bag student could keep people interested longer than a week.
When we returned to class today, I expected frantic gossip and a plethora of pants-pissing conspiracy theories regarding the ravaged corpse once known as Melissa Bolden, only to find the latest details on Ashley Breckers’s cock count and anticipation for the upcoming wrestling match. It’s quite hypocritical considering all the bashing I’ve received for “not caring enough” about Bolden. To be honest, I could be attending to some mass fourteen to eighteen year olds’ orgy gathering or fake crying in response to the new mechanical pencil cuts little Susan’s been carving on her arms, and maybe then my very best friends would see me as normal again, and then we could finally put all this nonsense behind us.
“Like, seriously, she doesn’t even know what she’s talking about,” some blonde girl blabbered on to me. I nodded my head as we walked out of Algebra, gorging on a half-melted chocolate bar. At least my peers think I’m listening.
In all seriousness, though, I do have something distracting on my mind: Wolfgang didn’t show up today. Throughout each period I thought, Maybe he just overslept, or, Maybe he forgot that school was back on schedule today. None of these explanations are reasonable, though; he’s not an idiot. Sometime before the first day of this school year, he even told me he was contemplating getting a perfect attendance. Maybe that was a joke. One problem, though: Wolfgang isn’t the humorous type. Is there possibly no explanation I can fathom for this, perhaps, but I still think it’s pretty weird. I hope he’s accepting visitors today.
I believe I heard someone tell me earlier, “He could be sick.” That would be a fantastic guess, except you’re supposed to send a note to the office if you’re missing class due to illness, which Wolfgang has always done in the past. Furthermore, he has shown no signs of ailment, distress, or fatigue lately, or at least nothing beyond what was normal for him.
When the blonde chick finally left me alone, I headed straight outside and rushed to the boy’s dorm. My hectic scramble even caused me to shove some little kid out of the way. I didn’t turn around to help him back up or suffocate his tearful screeching; too bad, foolish child, but I am an adult now, and adults don’t have time to waste on fat-faced, puke-smelling brats nowadays. I have a friend to speak to.
My entry into the dorm was not-so-solemn, but no matter, as times such as these do not deal with “manners”. I did not fall shameful victim to the aghast faces piercing me as I tore down the raggedy halls. I did not trip upon the stairs as I braved their tiresome obstructions. I did not cringe if a pinprick of sweat crawled into my eye socket.
And finally, here I was: Room 308. I flung myself inside...only to find it lacking Wolfgang.
I crumpled on the bed and sighed, wiping sweat off my brow. I’ve come all this way, wearing myself down as if I were a dishrag, and that dumbass isn’t even here? Where the hell is he, then? Only two possibilities came to mind: he was either in town, or holing up somewhere on campus. Of course, there’s always the woods near the school, but that’s never really been considered a safe place to hang out, a conception that’s been amplified by stories of disappearances and gang activity. I suppose there’s also been a few monster tales related to those woods. I remember back when I used to tell Wolfgang a few of those tales; he always had wide eyes. I doubt anyone as gullible as that would want to run around in some dark, mysterious forest of all places.
Even so, I guess I have no choice but to wait again tomorrow; I’m too drained to continue my search further. Letting out a long breath, I exited Room 308.
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