Abjure (v) To recant, renounce, or repudiate
The room was bare.
The floor was made of light grey concrete, and the walls were whitewashed plaster. The ceiling was the same. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about the little room—there were no cracks on the walls or ceiling, no marks from furniture on the floor, and the door was as white and nondescript as the rest of the room.
The only interesting thing about the room was the person in it. Though the room was small, about six feet by six feet around, the person was even smaller. He was curled up into a tight ball in the corner, his head tucked behind his knees that were crossed by his arms.
He was all in black, black jeans and a black sweater and black shoes and black dyed hair to contrast the room. His skin was pale, though, and his eyes were an unsettling shade of red.
He had been curled up in the corner for hours, doing nothing but thinking about his life, and thinking about his choices. How he'd gotten into that corner. Why he was there. In the beginning he'd cried quietly, but his tears had long since dried.
Silence was new for the boy. He was usually loud and abrasive. Those who knew him would swear he was someone else if they'd been watching his silent vigil.
He did have a reason. Part of the reason was that he was a sixteen-year-old boy who watched too many romance movies, but most of it was that the girl he was sure he'd spend the rest of his life with since fourth grade when he'd first laid eyes on her licking some red chalk had broken up with him.
He loved her. At least, he loved her as much as an over-dramatic sixteen-year-old boy can love. And it broke his heart when she had texted him the words, "1 TH1NK W3 SHOULD BR34K UP. :["
He read the text, made an excuse to his friend Gamzee, then ran out of the other boy's bedroom where they'd been playing video games. (Gamzee at this point had been waiting for his friend to come back from the bathroom for six hours, and was starting to get a little worried.) The boy had run to the closest place he'd known he could be alone—a park.
It was cold and wet that day, and the park was empty. He found an unfinished bathroom that still needed a toilet and sink installed, and curled up in the corner to let his feelings out.
This boy's name was Karkat Vantas, and he was an extremely melodramatic and angsty teenager, so it should be no surprise that in those six hours in the bathroom, he had convinced himself that he would never love again.
Karkat was an idiot. Well, of course he was. He was sixteen years old. Telling himself he was never going to love again was a terrible choice of action, because he would never be able to enforce this rule and he would only hurt himself in the process of doing so.
Karkat also thought extremely highly of himself. He did know what the consequences of his actions would be, as he'd watched more romantic comedies than most people knew existed, but he didn't care. He assured himself that he would be the exception, because he was just so great.
Don't get it wrong. He hated himself. He was a conflicted person. He was always telling himself how stupid he was and how wrong he always was, and was constantly having arguments with himself in his head. But the part of him that told him these things was just a nasty little voice in the back of his mind, and he could tune it out sometimes. He tuned it out when he was making his (moronic) decision about abjuring love.
After he'd accounted for all of the variables that could mess up his plan (bumping into her randomly, slowly falling for one of his best friends, his own asshole mind convincing him he was stupid) he uncurled himself and stood up.
He stretched, cracking his knuckles and twisting his legs around to make them move properly again. He walked nonchalantly out of the unfinished bathroom stall and back to Gamzee's house to pick up his things so he could go home.
He didn't do his homework (why the hell would he?) and instead stayed up late plotting his revenge on his ex for ruining his life. It was her fault he was doing this. Stupid bitch.
And no, he would not try to get her back after a series of events that would make him realize he was dumb! That would be stupid. He'd already thought of everything and worked his way around each and every thing that could happen. There was nothing that could change his mind. He had accounted for every single possibility.
Every possibility, that is, except for one.
AN: This is a study tool for me. I'm using words from my vocab lists and this will hopefully be finished around PSAT time. So yeah. Use it if you feel like.
Um, they're all humans, I guess? I'm not changing names because I feel like that's silly.
Sorry to 5OP followers that I didn't update this week. I forgot.
Thanks for reading.