Great Oak Gazette

Noelle Bohac

Four in the morning. Silent, as it normally would be. Still, almost desolate. It was isolating. Like a weight laying on top of him, the knowledge that soon his eyes would really have to open. That he’d have to bring himself to move. Things like this used to be so easy, almost exciting. He used to have things planned, everything was ready and organized, and yet now…everything felt frozen. Day after day it all felt obsolete, and he kept doing the same thing over and over again. He found himself forgetting what he learned in class, what he was supposed to do that day, what he planned to tell people. And now he felt restless. He had to start getting ready in a little over two hours, and he just knew what was coming. He could read the future in that moment, knowing exactly what he would do when he got up. 

Make his cereal, take a shower, get dressed, grab his bag, and go to class. All, always, in the same order. 

It made him feel like he was being dragged down into deep water, all on his own accord. He didn’t make any attempts to change anything, he felt afraid to. A sudden change could make everything crash and burn, but now, as he laid there, he was realizing that things were already burning, just slowly. The water was slowly heating beneath him, and he was too stuck in his head to do anything about it. The water didn’t ignite his feet, didn’t make him jump out, afraid to burn

himself. It heated at a rate that he didn’t even notice, and he just stood there like a baby bird, still and unaware of how to fly. 

“I should join a sport.” He mumbled, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling above. It was an attempt to motivate himself into some form of change. A deep inhale came in through his mouth, exhaling deeply soon after. But he hated sports; he knew that. He tried playing almost every single one. Baseball? He did it. Tennis? He did it. Football? He got hurt trying. 

Every single one ended up feeling draining. A lot of running, a lot of falling, and a lot of losing. Constant mockery from the other guys on the teams. He wasn’t fit for that area. He didn’t feel fit for any area. 

He groaned loudly, his hands coming to his face and running over his skin. He felt so stuck. He couldn’t move, couldn’t get himself to. He found no point in doing so. A part of his head, some part in the back of his mind, was keeping him stuck in his bed. Why did everything feel so gray? So obsolete? He never used to be so mentally fuzzy. He had no motivation for anything, no desire to change anything or…do anything. 

It was so random, this…ache. It came out of nowhere, where one day he was conscious of his surroundings, pushing himself to do all he could in class, and in life. Pushing himself to go with his friends to parties and restaurants despite his constant anxiety. And then a week later, like a flash, he felt everything around him pale. People seemed silent, their presence blurry even when in front of him, their words barely translating through his head. He began feeling weak, unable to function like he used to. 

“Everyone has these weeks, don’t worry. Just focus on the good.” He said, his words muffled by the hands still sitting on top of his face. He needed to find something, anything, to fix the fuzz in his head.

He reached for his phone, unlocking it and quickly looking through texts and emails. Any open spots for fraternities, maybe a class related club or meetup? Something he could look forward to. 

But no. No notifications. All he saw was the same messages from the day before and the same emails from weeks ago. Everything was dead silent. And why? Why was everything so suddenly dulled, as if the color drained from people’s lives and they all became indifferent to the world around them. Or was it just him thinking in such a way? 

He dropped his phone onto his chest, and for a long stretch of time, he laid in silence again. He didn’t fall asleep, his head too frustrated and overrun with thoughts to allow him to. All he did was think, feeling the soft rise and fall of his chest with each breath. 

But besides the pessimism in his thoughts, he felt a little flash of optimism flicker in like the waning light of a candle. 

Maybe, sometimes…this is what life can be like. It will go back to normal in due time, but right now, as he laid in silence, his body decided to fall still, and make things feel…quiet. No pain, no love, just…nothing. 

The thought made him scowl a bit. That didn’t necessarily feel like a good thing, to just have nothing. What was the point of giving everything his all if all he’d end up with was nothing? Was life truly so unpredictable that he’d just have to wait? Wait for the color to flow back into his eyes and fix his head? 

Maybe so. And maybe things would get better, maybe there was a chance of such change. All he could do was wait and hope, and continue on his path with that flicker of optimism keeping him strong. Even now, in such silent times, he knew a good future sat waiting in front of him.

So, with a deep breath, he sat up, and went to make his bowl of cereal.