The Darkest Days

Chapter 2: TRAUMA

It was Sunday morning, Hillary was wandering along the campus, then chose a place to take a rest. Timothee was there, next to the front desk. She precisely became an undergraduate at university with the Honour Scholarship. At first, she was infuriated by some dumbass classmates; they were from other states, and had a sense of loathing of her presence. It obviously became a trouble, for the next endless sequence of days. The hymn eased her sullenness while she was preparing for the final exam in Literary Criticism.

Hillary started talking to Timothee, having a snack after a boring lecture in the morning.

“How is everything going?” Timothee asked with a low tone, something was stuck in her throat.

“It’s fine, except my classmates, they just tried to elicit my anger, and made me be a silly joke in class. You know, those disgusting beings hid my materials in their bags, then pretended as if they did not know anything.” said Hillary. That was her first time confessing an embarrassing story to a person like Timothee. She felt ridiculous, and somewhat humiliated.

“Try to alleviate your madness through this book.” Timothee gave her “Pride and Prejudice” by Jane Austen. It is undoubted that this novel has been iconic of all time. The fact that Hillary had read it twice was transparent, but she would do it again.

Hillary was leaning on an oak, along with its protection and shade. She reminisced something analogous to her mother, Landry. Homesickness made her woebegone sometimes, she harbored herself in a nocturnal corner without any interference. It reminded her of the precious time spending with her beloved family, with Bryan and Landry. Hillary hoped to reunite with her mom, to give her tons of love. In fact, she did not give a f**k for actual validation at university. There was a sense of isolation squeezing into convoluted relationships, for she has not gained any warm welcome of her peers. Maybe she was weird, taciturn, reserved, and traumatic. Neither Hillary nor Timothee took a glimpse at those erratic students.

They found a stainless corner to read, like a serene melody to heal their aching souls.

“What did you find about this smoggy dorm?” Timothee asked. She wondered if Hillary would answer. Then, she touched her angelic fingers onto Hillary’s face.

“The first time I applied to this university, I found nothing, except your existence to my eyes.”

“Perhaps my existence is more marginal than yours.”

Hillary could detect the hidden answer in Timothee’s crystal eyes. They tranquilly took a walk around the obsolete statue perpetually standing in front of the hall.

“I wish I were this statue, emotionless, mighty, and reckless.” Hillary hold her scarf tightly, and Timothee, for not letting them go away. She had nothing to lose any longer; Timothee, otherwise, was cautiously observing Hillary’s facial expression, and judged. She didn’t intend to give Hillary a snide remark about her temperament, so she chose to keep silent. She knew the truth that Hillary was always depressed like she used to be, regardless of age.

Hillary has never written any letters since she came to this university, maybe she was too swamped to reply. And her life was exactly a mess. She idolized a professor in her department – Catherine, partly because Landry’s silhouette was there, in every Catherine’s disposition and mannerism. No one could compare to her mother, actually. She opted for writing a letter in lieu of being silent. Literature had seized her imagination so bad, she was immersed in every uncanny single word, and then forgot the existence of her parents. She felt guilty for those actions that she did. As an apology, she wrote to her parents for the first time, but tore it right away. There was a perilous monster ruling her mind, and against her rationality; being drowned in nightmare drove her mad. Ultimately, she needed to have a medical checkup in case she became truly insane.

Another day came, full of fears and nervousness. The deficiency of relationships made Hillary discontented. African Fiction was her first lesson for gloomy Mondays. Sincerely, Hillary had been waiting for Catherine’ lectures, to recall of her mother. She felt terrified and irritated with her classmates, or infuriated, they always tricked her sense of inferiority. In some situations that she yelled at them when her anger had prevailed, she was a horrifying creature, and being alienated.

Hillary couldn’t stand with it anymore, it let her down. Gruesomely, she had visualized a scenario in which those students whom she called “enemies” would be slain brutally. That obsession completely governed her because she had been bullied by the malicious words of her peers. Hillary defined herself as a nerd, and invariably a nerd, not wholly stupid or incompetent, for the reason that she knew where she was in this unfair tertiary education. Every night, she has been struggling with the monster inside her; she had a desire of death, as a salvation for her worst days. Despite the fact that she was an outstanding student in University of Nebraska – Lincoln, at least the nerdy recognition, she didn’t receive any respect and admiration from her classmates, or even professors. The mediocrity of this life became more obvious, she just wanted to reach a heavenly threshold throughout these darkest days. As she wished, everything was basically brighter when Timothee has always been by her side.

Hillary had a thirst for a restful life. She wanted to exclude her amorphous circle of thoughts. Living in an upstate region taught her lots of things about hardship when she chose to settle down in this town. Inspite of descending from a mediocre family, she had sufficient qualifications to survive during this hard time. Hillary was too frightened by filthy words that had been thrown from her dopey classmates. Her nightmare was formed by vituperative criticism, she has totally been traumatized, and emotionally disordered. She was lingering every time recollecting broken pieces of being verbally bullied. Timothee flew into a tantrum too, while wriggling with obstacle impeding her path. She became a dumb joke just because of her hoarse voice. “You’re definitely an odster, with your silly books, and your maid, Hillary.” After indefatigable hours of studying, Timothee returned to her ego, somewhat psychopathic, and absurd. Three weeks ago, she received a threadlike letter from an anonymous student. Timothee’s intelligence was observable, and in an another league compared to a vast majority of students in Literature major, thus, it was unavoidable to have some venomous comments, and haters. The preponderance of envy has dominated, and they simply begrudged her position. Her weak throat seemed to be muffled by those wicked remarks, since she was extremely susceptible.

Hillary was gazing at the poisonous snake slowly approaching her feet, then vigilantly receding a few paces. When death came nearer, a flash of thought popped in her mind, to avoid septic wounds that might occur, she decided to kill it, cruelly. As her biggest triumph, she told Timothee about that memory, and other classmates. Unlike Hillary’s anticipation, they made jests of her and laughed at her childish story, even Timothee. “So all the stuff that you wanna try to convey is killing a useless snake?” In stead of yelling at them, despite wrestling with deadly emotions on the inside, she sustained her fortitude towards this humiliating situation, and waited for their pardon. But no response, no apology, no regret, no consolation, everything she gained was just indifference. Hillary has absolutely been despair of her miserable fate, for being a joke in their visualization. She was nearly upset of what had treated her impolitely. Those windows covered with mossy green spectrum hit each other were attempting to give her a lullaby, to make her fall asleep, and to completely forget woozy feelings affecting her for days.

Hillary has no longer showed any affection to Timothee since she was joked by a bunch of ignoble demeanour. She felt despondent anyhow, then getting insomnia without prescriptions afterwards. Looking at the starry night, she reminisced of her parents, as the last belief. Of course, they never betrayed her, or made fun of her temperament. It appeared powerless and airless this time, whilst everyone was drowsy, Hillary had a sense of being a night owl. The turbulence of her homework quickly became clean-lembed, since she solved it efforlessly. Last night, the torrential rain smudged some parts of windows, and blurred the resilient oak in front of her view. All of these images conjured up visions of the past, when she was an innocent child, being taken care of by Bryan and Landry, and being encircled by benign nuns in the ancient cathedral. She felt the proximity of these bonds was closer and closer, for it assuaged her sorrows. Her father got seriously chronic single pneumonia on account of his exceeding workload. But she has never heard of this news. Bryan didn’t want her daughter to worry about him. He thought of Hillary’s silhouette, as his motivation to fight against this disease, and fight for his wife. Through the darkness of disappointment, there was always an entrance of heaven waiting for those who were courageously confronted with hardships. These adverse challenges did not hamper his strong will to forge ahead.

Hillary had a lecture of American Literature on Thursday every week, and she elaborately prepared for this subject in light of its attractiveness, and Professor Catherine. Catherine undertook this course, because she was undoubtedly qualified for this spot. Her educational background was also impressive. Hillary had been dumbfounded when looking at Catherine’s achievements and dedication for Literature and other relevant industries. Apart from teaching at University of Nebraska – Lincoln, Catherine has been working as an attorney for the Supreme Court, which made her prominent. Hillary spent all her admiration and respect towards Professor Catherine, and wanted her to be the instructor for the upcoming Bachelor Thesis Oral Defense in November 2013. Catherine shared what she had already known to Hillary as a common sense. She regarded Hillary as her daughter, for the reason that she was entirely single at the age of fifteen. She had no child, and family. She built reputation by herself, with everything she had internalized. Catherine has invited Hillary coming to her house several times, to serve researching purposes. Hillary was amazed at Catherine’s book collections. Thousands of novels, documents, materials and pieces of research were being displayed in just a small room. Hillary was picturing herself as Belle in “Beauty and The Beast” being engrossed in the world of infinite sources of human knowledge. She commonly came to Catherine’s whereabouts three times a week, to converse with her respectful professor, and to find more books to devour. Everyone called her a nerd, a bookworm who always devoured tons of books as her hobby. Hillary even did not feel irritated of that name, she was proud of it, because at least she had left an unforgettable impression on others. Her traumas have gradually been mollified, at certain degree, she eventually drowned them into oblivion. However, those optimistic days didn’t last long, her emotional disorders reiterated and controlled her everywhere. She tried to familiarize herself with this phase, but it didn’t work. Her symptoms became clearer and clearer; she was lost in negative trains of thoughts, no matter how brave she has been. At midnight, Hillary experienced some severe pains which obsessed her continually. She sensed hopeless, futile, dreadful, resentful, and erratic. Catherine had taken her to the nearby hospital countless times, yet it seemed nearly unworkable. Hillary’s symptoms were drastically grim, when she felt like herself falling downstairs, or being hunted by a serial killer in her imagination. Hillary has never had an unbroken sleep since she moved to this university, the disgusting extremity and toxic environment made her nauseous, and terrified. She heard someone giggling outside the door, then feeling a freezing cold passing through every organ. With her scrawny bones, she had to resign herself to this ridiculous situation. “Those idiots never experience the same circumstance as I do.”