Author's note: Although this is not directly set in the world of OMF, I hope you enjoy it. Feedback is greatly appreciated.
Charlotte chewed a nail, and a crescent of keratin fell to the floor. Momentarily distracted from calculus homework, she berated herself for undoing her resolve to trim her nails only with a clipper. She heaved a frustrated sigh and turned her focus back to the set of problems. The integral of udv equals uv minus the integral of v du. Tell me how that makes things simpler. More importantly, why do I have to take calculus even as an English major? Parents… She studied the examples for the umpteenth time, wishing that the book and professor had demonstrated some harder ones before turning the students loose with this gibberish.
A half hour ticked past, and her frustration grew. She slammed the offending textbook shut. Maybe rollerblading will clear my head. As she put her materials away,she glanced at her clock, and it read 6:45. Her stomach rumbled, and she tried to shut it up. No! Ketter closed fifteen minutes ago. What am I going to eat? She rummaged through her food supplies and settled on an old apple and some peanut butter crackers. The apple was old and mushy, but it tasted sweet. The crackers, however, were basically fossilized; she managed to choke down half of one before throwing the package across the room with a frustrated growl that rose to a scream.
An odd sensation flowed through her, starting with her fingertips. As unsettling as it was, it also piqued her curiosity, and she tried to analyze what it was doing to her. As her thoughts tumbled over each other, one theme emerged. Power. POWER. Despite her previous hunger, she felt that she could take on the world. An impulse took over, and she stood up and did a flip, somehow not hitting anything in her tiny dorm room. Since when do I do flips without a trampoline? As her knees flexed to absorb the shock of the landing, white specks formed at the edge of her vision for a moment and then disappeared.
The feeling of power passed, leaving Charlotte standing and scratching her head in bewilderment. What on earth was that? A feeling of awe settled over her. How did all that occur? The feeling passed as her stomach reminded her that an apple a day was not nearly enough brain food for a student. Her own food stocks were empty, so she raided her roommate's stash and had ravioli with peanut butter for dessert. She made a mental note to tell her roommate about her theft and offer to reay her.
Thus fortified, she turned back to her homework. After reading her literature assignment, she tackled the dreaded integration by parts. It made a little more sense now, and she easily worked through the first seven problems. When the next few didn't go as smoothly, she decided to go to the math lab for help. There was still an hour and change left before it was finished for the night, so she could get quite a bit more problems completed. She arrived in the classroom, signed in, and set her stuff on the table next to her favorite tutor, Cryss.
"What seems to be the problem, Charlotte?" she asked.
"Integration by parts is still, by and large, an impenetrable mystery to me. Professor Lang always shows the easy ones in class and then assigns the monster problems. I don't even understand the practical value of the process."
"Well, integration by parts is used to determine whether or not an operator is Hermitian. You'll come across it in-" Cryss started to explain in detail, but Charlotte cut her off.
"I'm an English major. Remember? This class has no application in my world."
"Well, why are you taking it then?"
"My parents really wanted me to pursue something in the sciences, so they weren't thrilled that I chose English. They said that if I wanted help with college expenses, I would have to take certain courses in addition to those required by my major, and calculus was one of them."
"Ah. No reason to slack off, though, so let's get to it."
Charlotte was still confused by some of the finer details of the process, but by the end of math lab that night, integration by parts had become much easier to do, thanks to the patient tutor. After leaving the lab, Charlotte stopped by the library and got a book she needed for her literature class. As was her nature, she got distracted by other books in the library, so she left not only forty minutes later than she intended, but with a stack of eight books, which she somehow crammed into her bag.
She stepped into the night and took a deep breath, enjoying the cool air after an evening spent mostly indoors. She pressed the stem of her watch, and the dial lit up. Her eyes widened. Ten-twenty? She should have been back in her room sleeping by now. She pulled her bag onto her back, tightened the straps, and set off at a brisk clip. As she approached the open area of campus called "The Oak Quad," she heard shouting. She paused, swiveled her head, and then darted behind a nearby tree. She saw a number of figures partly in the shadows. How many were there? Three? Four?
The clot of people moved into the light. Charlotte counted four of them; they all were about the same height. She recognized the one who was slightly taller than the others as John, a literature classmate. He looked nervous and clutched a stack of books to his chest, while his eyes darted from person to person. His mouth was moving, but Charlotte couldn't hear anything, so she moved closer. The exchange made her breath catch in her throat.
"-don't you join the cool cats in physics and engineering if you're smart?" demanded someone with slicked-back brown hair.
"I-I can learn about it easily from a-a-a textbook. Study of literature requires l-l-lots of rereading and discussion. It works my mind in a way physics doesn't," John replied meekly.
"If physics is so easy for you, then you should have no problem with a double major," retorted Slick, as his apparent underlings slowly stepped forward.
"Th-there's a lot of writing and re-re-rewriting involved, and I'm not the fastest typer," John stammered out before continuing, "and, besides, there are a lot of interesting English classes I want to take, so even if I wanted to study physics, I wouldn't have time." As he said this, he took a large step back, turned quickly, and sprinted away. Slick and his underlings had apparently anticipated his action and took off after him. John, encumbered with his books, made for easy prey, and he was grabbed and thrown to the ground. Charlotte watched in horror as the three pummeled John; she remembered that on the first day of class, when the professor asked them, as an icebreaker, to say what fictional character they most were like, John had chosen Fezzik. In some ways it was true. John was tall, kind, and given to rhyming. He was rail-thin, and she doubted that he ever had fought anyone. The scene only confirmed her fears.
"You flame-haired freak! You're just like all the other weirdo hippie humanities kids. You can't stand out with your work, so you dye your hair to get attention," sneered Slick.
John's reply did not reach her, but Slick's words gave her an idea of what John said.
"Oh, radioactive carrot is apparently a natural hair color, and I suppose you don't use colored contacts either." The three paused in their beating and conferred among themselves before resuming the violence at an increased level. Charlotte heard a low groan, and her heart lurched. John had pulled himself to his feet during the break, and she saw his face. It was bloody and bruised, and his whole posture seemed stooped with pain. It snapped her from her stupor, and she looked around, trying to see if anyone else was watching and would try to help, but she couldn't see anyone on the quad or peering out of buildings. The closest call box was just beyond the fighting, and she didn't dare to try reaching it. The only other one that came to her stress-addled mind was at the far end of the row of upperclassmen apartments, a dangerously far distance away, she thought.
Still, she felt she had no other choice. She sprinted toward it, driven on by a sudden shout of pain from John. Where is campus security? The laughter of the three reached her seconds later, turning her fear into frustration and then anger. A sensation flowed through her, and white numbers flashed in her vision. She closed her eyes and shook her head.
When she opened her eyes, she was standing in the dark alleyway between her dormitory and the wall of the mansion next door. What happened, and how on Earth did I get here? She swayed as she took a step forward and nearly fell. She stood still for a few minutes to clear her head and checked her watch while she waited. 11:05? Can it be? How did I lose half an hour? She made her way slowly back to her room, feeling suddenly drained. She flopped onto her bed and uncharacteristically fell asleep fast, dreaming many series of strange images.