Lately, I've been feeling rather odd. I don't know what's wrong; I just know that something is wrong. People have been talking about me, but, when I confront them, they don't admit it. They say that they're not, but I know they are. Since they're lying to me, whatever it is, whatever they're saying, it can't be good. I need to find out what they have planned.
The notebook was yanked from his hands, and a stern voice scolded, "Pay attention. Write on your own time. You'll get this back at the end of class. Maybe." He watched, mortified, as the teacher took the notebook to the front desk. If she reads that, they'll know and then I'll have to start all over. Luckily, though, she did not read it. She just sat the book on the corner of her desk and went back to her lecture.
Finally, class ended, and the teacher called him up to her desk. "Ivan, I don't understand. You haven't been paying attention. Your grades have been dropping. If this keeps up, you may end up failing this class. You used to be one of my brightest students- What happened? What's wrong?"
Ivan didn't reply; he just looked at her desk, studying it. Brown wood with a reddish tint, a few small scratches marred the shiny finish. The nameplate on the front of the desk read, "Ms. Héderváry." She had pictures, as well, of what Ivan assumed to be her family. A stack of papers leaned to the left a bit, looking as if it would topple any second and papers would be scattered all over the floor. Vaguely, Ivan wondered if she would ask for help if that happened.
Ms. Héderváry sighed, breaking Ivan from his concentration. "I can see," she began, "that you're not going to answer. Take your notebook and leave, then. If this happens again, if I catch you not paying attention, I will make you leave this class. Have a nice day, Ivan." She sighed again, watching the retreating student's back.
Ivan rushed out of the school and to his car, occasionally looking over his shoulder. Once he reached the vehicle, he unlocked the door and climbed in, but did not bother to start the engine. Instead, he opened the notebook and, after looking it over to make sure Ms. Héderváry had done nothing to it, began to write.
That was almost very bad. She almost caught me. What would I have done? She can't read this- no one can read this. They'll mess up everything. I have to find out their secret fast, before they catch on to me.
The words were rushed, the handwriting nearly illegible. He could read it just fine, though, and that was all that mattered. Finally, after taking another five minutes to take stock of everything in his car, Ivan started the machine and drove away to his dorm, glad that he did not have school the next day.
Paranoid of being followed, Ivan took the back roads, which added an extra twenty minutes to his route, instead of the five it would have if he had stuck to the main roads with the rest of the students. Once he left his car, he looked around again, just to be sure. Finally assured that no one had followed him home, he began to walk to his room.
Upon entering his room, Ivan saw that his roommate was nowhere to be found. Going into the kitchen, he saw a note stuck to the fridge, Gone out to eat with Francis. Be back later. Arthur. Francis was Arthur's, Ivan's roommate, friend, even though the latter acted as if he hated the former. Ivan read the note several times, the words not really forming in his mind. Crumpling the paper, he threw it into the trashcan before walking into his bedroom and throwing himself onto his bed. "My God. What's wrong with me today?" He ran a hand down his face, as if that would wipe away all the stress he had been feeling.
He woke up feeling sluggish. "When did I fall asleep? What time is it?" He glanced at the clock, the red numbers blinking the time 12:00. "The power went out?" As soon as those words were in the air, another, more sinister, thought formed in his mind- Someone could have unplugged his clock, so the alarm wouldn't go off. He jumped out of the bed, and rushed to turn on the light, flooding the room with brightness. He let out a relieved sigh after seeing all was as it should be, before, "What the hell? Turn off the lights!" His irritable roommate's English accent hung in the air, startling Ivan. "I thought you were with Francis? When did you get back?" Arthur stared at Ivan blankly before replying, "I got back four hours ago, when the power went out. You should know, since you let me in. Now turn off the lights before I throw this clock at you." Ivan flipped the switch, not wanting to provoke his irritable roommate any further and then crawled back into his bed to attempt to get a few more hours of sleep.
"Ivan, wake up. Get out of bed. Come on, we have things to do."
He groaned, not wanting to move. The voice was insistent, though, urging him to get up. Finally, unable to deal with it anymore, he lifted his head, blinking blearily. Then, he started suddenly, coming to a realization- the voice was not Arthur's. A quick scan of the room showed that Arthur was still asleep. Ivan got up and walked over to his roommate, and began to lightly shake him.
"Arthur. I think someone is in our room. We have to get out." Arthur, not usually a morning person, growled. "Go away, wanker. I'm trying to sleep. You woke me up in the middle of the night, remember? Stop bothering me." Arthur tried to shove Ivan's arm away, but the larger man would have none of it. "We have to go- Get up!" At the panic in his voice, Arthur looked up. "What are you talking about? There's no one here."
Ivan looked at his roommate incredulously. "Don't you hear them? Shh, listen." He paused, so Arthur could hear it. "Ivan, what are you on about? I don't hear any-" He was cut off by a hand covering his mouth. Ivan's frightened face appeared in his vision. "We need to leave this area. They're looking for us." Arthur was used to Ivan's eccentric behaviour, but this was more than he was accustomed to. "Ivan," he began, speaking slowly, "There is no one here. It's just you and me. Calm down." Ivan gave an angry growl. "You're in on it, too? I thought I could trust you. Stay away from me." With that, he left the room, leaving a very confused Arthur.
Everyone is against me. The teachers, the students, even Arthur. I'm completely alone. I can't trust anyone now.
A thump on his car window caused Ivan to jump. When he looked over, he saw Arthur, along with his friend Alfred. "Ivan," he shouted, loud enough for the man in the car to hear, "Alfred and I want to help you. Something's wrong. Open the door and let's talk."
Ivan glared at the two blond men outside his car door. Help? How could they possibly help when they were part of it? He rolled down the window. "I want you two to leave me alone. Stop following me, stop talking about me, just leave me alone." He punctuated the last word with a flat, no-nonsense tone. The two outside the car looked at one another in confusion. "Ivan," Alfred started, "Arthur told me about your freak out this morning. What's up? What was that all about?" Alfred was Ivan's old friend, but, lately, Ivan had been ignoring Alfred, walking in the opposite direction when he saw the American coming towards him.
Ivan opened his car door and exited the vehicle, closing the door behind him. He was tall, easily passing the six foot mark, and towered over the other two males. He said nothing as he walked back toward the dorms, with the intent of locking himself in his room. He failed to notice, however, that his notebook had fallen from the car and that one of the blonds, Arthur, had picked it up.
Ivan paced in the kitchen anxiously. On his way to his room, he had seen a man with an odd hat, silver hair and a silver moustache following him. He had run the rest of the way to his dorm, and then locked himself inside. He had seen this man before a few weeks ago, but he had never followed him. A knock on the door made Ivan jump and reach for a knife, before slowly opening the door and peeking out.
"What do you want?" His voice was low, wary, suspicious. It was Alfred and Arthur, along with a man Ivan had never seen before. Alfred and Arthur looked at the Ivan warily, before Arthur spoke. "Ivan, this is Mr. Edelstein. He's here to help. Can you let us in and we can talk?"
Ivan looked at the two young men, then looked at the newcomer, Edelstein. "He," Ivan motioned to Edelstein, "Can come in. You two stay out here." Ivan opened the door fully, allowing the older man access into the room. "You can't say I can't come in- I live here, too, you know!" Ivan shut the door in Arthur's face before his angry tirade could continue.
Once seated, Edelstein got straight to the point. "Ivan, you're sick. I read your journal, and I know everything. You need to come with me. I'll make you better." Edelstein had a soft, soothing voice, but Ivan would have none of it. "You're with him, too? I should have known. If you're friends with Alfred and Arthur and all those others, of course you would be friends with him as well."
Edelstein looked at Ivan calmly before asking, "Who? Who are we with? I'm afraid I don't understand." Ivan gave a short, derisive laugh. "Of course you would say that. Well, I'll humour you- General Winter. Does that name sound familiar to you? I'm sure it does." Ivan's voice had grown wild, getting louder with every word he said. Edelstein opened his mouth to speak again, when, suddenly, Ivan threw the knife that he had hidden in his coat pocket when he opened the door.
It had been a few months since Edelstein's visit. After Ivan nearly hit him with a knife, the doctor, ever the calm gentleman, consoled the younger man as he had a mental breakdown. Ivan told Edelstein that he was afraid he was going crazy, and wanted help; he wanted to get away from the voices and hallucinations. Edelstein continued to talk to the young man daily- Ivan confided in him of the things he saw and heard every day. General Winter, Edelstein soon learned, was the one Ivan was the most afraid of, and the one he saw most frequently.
After months of observation, Edelstein came to the conclusion that Ivan was schizophrenic, paranoid subtype. He gave the man medication, and told him to continue to visit, so Edelstein could watch his reaction to the medication, and determine if the dosage need to be raised or lowered, or if the medicine itself needed to be changed.
Ivan had hugged him, completely lifting Edelstein from the ground, when he was told that there was hope he could be better. "With time, your hallucinations could be significantly lowered, or they could leave completely. You'll be mostly normal." It was the best information the student had heard in a while, and, since then, he had been working on fixing his damaged relationships. When he told Alfred and Arthur, the two were wary at first, not sure if the medication would really help their large friend. As time went on, though, with Ivan snapping on them less and less, they began to talk to him again, laughing and joking as if nothing had ever changed.
Ivan told his teachers, as well, and, while some of them did look at him and treat him differently, for the most part, they were understanding and accepted that there would be days where Ivan was perfectly fine, and days where he would be a bit off. His grades improved and he was at the top of his class again.
I'm happy. For the first time in months, I can say that I feel good.
Ffff, I've been typing this thing for the past six hours for my Creative Writing class. Biggest mental block ever. Seriously, this was tough. I feel as if I did a good job, though. Hope my grade reflects that. Also, FFN keeps derping up the format. Sorry about that.