The next day, I only have to worry about taking Creative Nonfiction and that's that. It's a good thing that class starts at 1:10 in the afternoon. That gives me plenty of free time in the morning. So I just decide to read up on some required reading at my desk and try my best to block out all the squabbling Quilene and Aerolynn have been getting up to.

God, I am so sick of hearing them fight. I wish I could just get to the bottom of why they're not friends anymore and then somehow make it so that they're magically friends again. I wish I could do that, but this is real life. This kind of animosity between them could go on forever. A camel can hold a grudge against a human for years and years and never let it go. What the hell could Aerolynn have possibly done to hurt Quilene? Maybe it's best if I don't know, mostly for Quilene's sake. She's been through enough, as is.

I've already eaten some instant ramen in the meantime. It's cliche, but whatever helps get through reading one of your textbooks, I guess. At some point, I check the time on my iPhone. It's already 12:30 in the afternoon. Well, crap, guess I better get going. I quickly close the book and shove it into my backpack, not caring at all where exactly it's going. I just sprint out of there, wanting to make sure I get to class on time.

Okay, I've made it. I head straight for Hegeman Hall and don't even hesitate to sprint over to the room where Creative Nonfiction is being held. Much to my relief, Professor Sweet hasn't shown up yet. Some students have already beaten me to it, sure, but Professor Sweet isn't here yet, so I'm not late. I just take a seat and sit down, making sure to set my backpack beside me. Okay, I guess I have some time before Professor Sweet shows up. How about I quickly check my phone and see if anybody's tried to text me in the meantime? Hmm, I only got a recent text from Mom telling me she loves me and she hopes this semester will go well for me and Jonah. I manage to quickly give her a reply before Professor Sweet walks in and I have to put away my phone.

Professor Sweet appears to be about six feet tall and to have copper-colored skin. He's got an oval body shape that he's dressed nicely with a brown sweatshirt and a rain jacket. He's wearing dark jeans and those white nurse shoes you don't see too often anymore, plus black socks. He's also graying in some areas upon his dark coarse head, but I don't think they're too noticeable. He's got pretty big hands, too, like as big as my face. Are his feet that big as well?

"Good afternoon, class, and welcome to Creative Nonfiction," Professor Sweet begins to speak. "Before we begin, I just want to say that I'm so glad that you decided to enroll in this class this semester. It gives me the strength needed to teach each and every one of you. Now, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Twigden Sweet, but I would prefer if you just called me Professor Sweet. It's just more professional that way."

Some students murmur around me.

"Anyway," Professor Sweet continues. "I'm here to teach you all everything there is to know about creative nonfiction. It's almost identical to creative fiction, except instead of using literary styles and techniques to create fictional stories, we will be using literary styles and techniques to create factually accurate narratives. Creative nonfiction is also different from other kinds of nonfiction like academic and technical writing. This kind of nonfiction is not only meant to inform the readers, but also entertain them."

Almost right away, a student raises their hand.

"Yes..." Professor Sweet squints at a piece of paper he's holding in his hands. "...Andersyn Sawyer? What is it?"

"What makes creative nonfiction, y'know, creative?" Andersyn asks curiously.

"Good question," Professor Sweet replies. "For a literary work to be considered creative nonfiction, it must be factually accurate and written with attention to literary style and technique. Ultimately, the primary goal of the creative nonfiction writer is to communicate information, just like a reporter, but to shape it in a way that reads like fiction. Forms of creative nonfiction include memoir, diary, travel writing, food writing, literary journalism, chronicle, personal essays, and other hybridized essays, as well as some biography and autobiography."

"Okay, but what are the characteristics that are distinct of creative nonfiction?"

"Well, according to Barbara Lounsberry, there are four constitutive characteristics of the genre. First, there's documentable subject matter chosen from the real world as opposed to 'invented' from the writer's mind. Next, there's exhaustive research that allows writers novel perspectives on their subjects and also permits them to establish the credibility of their narratives through verifiable references in their texts. Then, there's the scene, which is the importance of describing and revivifying the context of events in contrast to the typical journalistic style of objective reportage. Finally, and I do mean finally, there's fine writing: a literary prose style."

"Wow."

"Did that answer your question, Andersyn?"

Andersyn nods their head. "It sure did."

Professor Sweet nods back. "Good. Now, I'm going to start handing out syllabuses while you all start introducing yourselves to me. Make sure to read over them while you wait for your turn and after class."

Okay, I'm back from Creative Nonfiction. I've just got to worry about going over the syllabus today, as well as writing out a short essay about myself for my first assignment. Honestly, it's a little daunting having to write about myself for my very first assignment in Creative Nonfiction, especially given recent events. I doubt I'm going to need serious help on it, but the pain from losing Van a while back is still kinda fresh. It shouldn't be too big of a deal, though. It'll be just like when I had to write that graduation speech, minus all the worrying about making it perfect.

I look around and notice that I'm currently the only one in the dorm right now. It's so nice to have some peace and quiet around here. Quilene's presence can be quite cumbersome at times, and I don't just mean the fighting she's been doing with Aerolynn. It'd be nice if I didn't have to hear her shower late at night three times a week, but no matter. She's just a good roommate to have and an ever better friend. I decide to just sprawl myself out on the couch, figuring that I'll have to kill time for the syllabus and the short essay later. I also decide to rest my eyes for just a bit, but somehow I manage to just fall asleep instead.

I wake up some time later and notice Quilene and Aerolynn arguing again. Goddamn it, will this ever end? I just have to bear this for a little while longer and then the semester is over. I get up and try to walk past them, but something is somehow blocking my path. I can't even see what it is. It's like a glass wall that you can't easily break. I can only press my face at the invisible glass wall and watch them fight, helpless. Why can't I do something? Suddenly, I'm thrown back to a wall, which also seems to be invisible. Before I can even adjust to what happened, I start sinking into the floor. Oh my God, what's happening? Why am I sinking? Am I going to die? I cry out for help, but it falls on deaf ears. I try to cry out again, but I can't. It's like my lungs won't let me. I just squeeze my eyes shut, bracing myself for the worst.

The next time I open my eyes, I find myself lying on the floor next to the couch. Oh, good, it was just a dream. I briefly look up to see Quilene and Aerolynn standing over me.

"Hope, are you okay?" Quilene asks me out of concern.

"Yeah, you looked like you were going through some serious shit," Aerolynn adds.

I start getting up. "Yeah, I just had this really weird and upsetting dream. You guys were fighting like usual, and I was trying to walk past you but I couldn't do anything. Then I ended up being thrown across the other side of the room and sinking into the floor. I'm not sure what it means, but I don't like it."

Quilene and Aerolynn just look at each other, confused by what I'd just told them.

"Has our fighting really been affecting you?" Quilene once again asks out of concern. "We're sorry. We'll... try not to be so disruptive, right, Aerolynn?"

Aerolynn just mumbles, "Yeah, sure, whatever."

Just like that? I'm not sure I believe it.