The clank of iron resonated throughout the gym. “That’s wild.” As if to drive the point home, Christian reiterated a second time, “That’s wild.”
“What do you think it means?”
“You tried Googling?”
“Yeah.”
“What’d it say?”
“Loneliness. Emptiness.”
Christian returned the lat pulldown bar to the tray table. “On the rundown, I’d say you have some major problems. Something’s been bothering you and you need to sort it out. You also probably want something more in your life. You say the dreams make you wake up happy. What’d you say the individual looked like again?”
“Everything’s white but when I try to remember them, they take on two different faces. They’re two different individuals but at the same time, they’re the same.”
“Like?”
“Like they are one person but they can be many. It’s like an abstraction.”
Christian raised his eyebrows. “You know any of their faces?”
“I can’t exactly remember the faces.”
“Bro, how can you remember everything else that happened but not the faces?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember everything I talked about with them either though. I just kind of have a feeling it was always something important.”
Christian slid two plates on each side of the barbell. “Can you spot me?”
Theodore continued as he walked over to Christian at the bench press, “The dreams feel too real. Like I’ve known them. Apparently they know me, too.”
Christian completed a set. “The individuals?”
“Yeah.”
Christian ruminated for a while. “They’re probably a part of you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You got some important people in your life? It’s like that. They’re a part of you. If they’re happy, you become happy.”
“You think they represent people I’ve met in my life?”
“Maybe.”
Theodore hummed.
“You wanna grab lunch after this?” Christian suggested.
“If it’s not a bother--”
“No, no. Not a bother.”
Unable to contain himself, Theodore grinned.
That afternoon, he called in sick for work. After the enlightening discussion he had with Christian at Bing’s Big Dingus Dumplings, he needed time to sort things out. “They probably are a part of me.”
Lying on his bed, free from distractions, he asked himself, this time in a calmer state of mind, “What was the problem?”
He breathed in. A stream of consciousness innately flowed like a river cascading through the forest. Dandelion pappi fluttered over the blossoming glades. Free to roam and soar like a falcon, ascending higher and higher than the Mountain of a Thousand Dreams, the clouds overhead accumulated into one gray undulating mass, rumbling, threatening to strike him down with lightning.
Thunder. Humid air muffled the deathly quiet. Mourning in black, a handful of people gathered around an open casket in the middle of a field. The sky did not rain nor did Theodore cry. He stood there like a soldier, both of his arms straightened and flattened out on his sides. A bald man at the front recited a eulogy, a dainty woman beside him. The man and woman happened to be the girl’s parents, the girl who now eternally slept, who would never complain to Theodore or write another story for him ever again.
Each attendee came to her dressed corpse with silent prayers. There were flowers, tears, and bitterness. Especially an old couple, Theodore believed that must have been her grandmother who contained the seething rage and incurable despair in her grievous gaze. Her world had come to an end and he couldn’t blame her for the injustice she must have felt. He stepped forward after them.
The girl must have slept soundly. Theodore spoke to her, “You know, it’s winter but it’s neither chilly nor glistening with snow. The skies are leaden with no Christmas in sight. Everything seems upset and gloomy now that you’re gone.”
The silence continued even as he berated her parents thereafter. “If you guys just made up and listened to her for once. You think she can just choose? She loved both of you. And her smile. She had a smile that made you feel like only you mattered in the whole entire world. But you fucking threw it away like trash, you selfish piles of shit!” was what rampaged within. These were the words he never said. Instead, as he approached her parents, he ceremoniously expressed, “My deepest condolences,” before leaving the funeral without batting an eye.
The following day, he and his girlfriend, Bethany, drove down to Disneyland for their winter vacation, a three-day retreat they had planned together for over half a year.
Theodore kept to himself. He stared straight ahead with unrelenting force, his hands alabaster white from gripping the steering wheel. Endless fields of greens, stretches of mountainous terrain, and billboards recommending you needed Jesus in your life zoomed by.
When they parked and rolled their luggage into the hotel, Bethany came over to tickle Theodore, hoping to cheer him up. Giddy, a walking ray of sunshine, she exited their suite, ready for a day full of adventure.
Theodore followed her across the amusement park, past Tarzan’s Treehouse, Mickey Mouse and his clubhouse, and crowds of tourists. They arrived at the Pirates of the Caribbean-- the first ride she wanted to go on from her childhood-- where the two of them boarded a ferry.
The amber glow from lanterns lit up buccaneers and villagers in their homes and up the cobblestone steps. Stacked barrels of wines found safeguard behind some miserly hoarders. Skeletons plagued islands of abundant treasure and riches. And silly sea shanties clashed with the hullabaloo of adults and children.
Circumnavigating the pirates’ grotto, they moved onto Splash Mountain and the Tower of Terror, building their way up to the big rides. Theodore’s stomach churned in distress when he stumbled out of their last stop.
“Should we take a break?” Bethany proposed.
Theodore nodded, his eyes closed. A wicked migraine pulsed through his left temple down his neck.
Bethany brought him a mug of hot chocolate and one for herself.
“Everything is so happy, so happy. Ahaha.” Theodore lost it. An unbearable tension strained his mind. He looked daggers at Bethany. “You’re so happy, too.”
“I told you we didn’t have to come.”
“And the way you told me told me if we didn’t come, you would be very sad.”
“Then, what am I supposed to do?”
“Do you not care?”
“Care about what?”
Theodore fumed.
“I do care! What do you want me to do?”
“She’s dead!”
He sipped on the hot chocolate in disgust, hoping it would scald off his tongue so he would never have to talk again. He ended up burning his own mouth.
Bethany kept staring at him, expecting an answer.
“I don’t care anymore.”
The lavish dishes of seafood and delectable desserts, the fireworks, and the magic of Disney seemed to be filled with false promises. No matter how Bethany smiled and interacted with those around them, a miasma of sorrow and regret now loomed over the two. On the drive home, they had nothing to say to each other. There was no thrill or excitement, of recollecting the rush of Space Mountain or the festive Christmas lights embellishing the picturesque main street. There was only the bleak outlook of the sunless gray horizon up ahead.
Theodore felt hollow and withered like an old oak afflicted with fungal rot. A week later, he quit teaching at Gillette despite the pleas and encouragement from his colleagues.
“All of you in shambles over some student you had. How old are you?” Bethany reminded Theodore.
“Twenty-eight.”
“Twenty-eight!”
His head down, he soullessly stared down onto the carpet, his eyes glazed. “She saved me,” his voice cracked.
“She saved you?”
“Sometimes I wanted to let go. But I thought, if I let go, I wouldn’t be all there the next day. I wouldn’t be fully present. I wouldn’t be able to read the stories she wrote for me. I wouldn’t be able to teach everything with my very best.”
“Well, at some point you gotta move on. Like you said, she’s gone now.”
Theodore didn’t budge.
“Hey. We can work things out together.”
Theodore harshly rejected, “This is my problem.”
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
The only remnant he kept of Bethany was one photo of her smiling in Disneyland before he hurt her.
This was his own retribution.
Alone and reclusive, he deleted all his old contacts. He moved into a single bedroom apartment, somewhere far but not too far. To survive, he found employment at a local sandwich shop. With work, bed, and sleep on repeat, there was nothing to look forward to.
He subconsciously tried to forget everything. He habituated to staying up late at night, bombarding himself with endless garbage from the internet, a vast quantity of content where he couldn’t even retain five percent of what he consumed. He seldom left his house other than for his work or to buy household items. He subsisted on sandwiches and subpar snacks whenever he had to eat. He must have grown roots sitting in front of his computer all the time whenever he was off work. As the colors of that distant era in the halcyon days faded away like the fabric on an old sweater, so too did he and his body, shriveling away into a perpetual grayness with nothing in sight for miles and miles on end.
Loneliness rattled like a restless humdrum too unbearable to withstand. Even though he chose to isolate himself, no human can go for long without the company of others. Yet through the countless profile pictures he texted or called through the white screens of his electronics, this void for human affection could never be fulfilled. He never knew and never would know what these people looked like on Discord or Facebook, only imagining that behind the veil of anonymity were a sea of white faces where he floated aimlessly on a dilapidated raft, their inseparable voices threatening to drown him.
Before long, a crippling anxiety would often seize him throughout the day. Some days, this anxiety became especially pronounced in the mornings where he would wake up hyperventilating, feeling like he was about to have a heart attack. He would scramble to go on his phone or computer thereafter, the white screens numbing him as if he were laying in the bright operating room undergoing general anesthesia, falling deeper and deeper into a state of oblivion.
Today was tomorrow and tomorrow became yesterday. Mixing and something kooky, I don’t know, he woke up lost oftentimes, not knowing what time it was. One, two, three… nearly six years passed. He gave up on those he had met in his life. He had given up on humanity. He had let himself go, collecting dust with his bedroom like a box of broken childhood toys stashed away in the closet. If not for a happenstance on a particular day, he felt like he, at death’s door, would have joined her.
Twirling gusts of leaves scratched the empty sidewalks and quiet houses. Dawn emerged from the hillside after a spooky night of trick-or-treating. Theodore, with his knees to his chest, mindlessly viewed clips on his phone in the early gray, feeling his insomnia wouldn’t last. He blinked. His eyelids drooped. The next video autoplayed.
“You’re reading, writing, hitting the gym, getting work done, being productive, and things couldn’t be any better. You feel motivated, you’re in the groove, and there is this mental clarity in everything that you do. Everything seems to be going your way and you decide to take a break. Maybe you decide to have some chips on the couch while watching some TV. Maybe you decide to sleep in. When the morning comes, you find yourself tired, confused, having trouble getting out of bed. You don’t know why. The motivation you once had seems to have vanished and you’re wondering why you were so productive the day before. You end up missing the gym. You start playing lots of video games and eating junk food. You end up overdue on the deadlines your boss assigned you. This goes on for hours, into days, into weeks. Things couldn’t be any worse.”
Theodore closed his eyes as he listened.
“Many of us have been there. Today, I’m going to tell you some quick methods to get out of a rut. Of course, this video isn’t meant to be medical advice for mental illnesses such as clinical depression. If you’re seeking help for those reasons, I’ve linked some resources down in the description below.
Now, to understand the tips I’m about to show you, it’s important to first understand how our brains work. The brain is generally categorized into two parts: a logical part and an impulsive part. The logical part of our brain… ”
Theodore drifted in and out of consciousness. He only remembered at some point in the video, the man recommended, “Lastly, as a preventative measure, set yourself at least one goal, routine or long-term. It could be trying to sleep and wake up at a certain time. It could be going out and talking to people you know or making new friends. Or it could be working towards enough money for a sweet new PC you’ve always wanted.”
Theodore believed that since his life revolved around his computer when he didn’t work, the last goal sounded quite reasonable. “Maybe I’ll get a new PC,” he vaguely considered. He fell asleep at the headboard of his bed in a sitting position, waking up with his legs sore a few hours later as he drove to work.
“The CHAOS b9300 Gaming PC i9-14000 KS, RTX 4090, 4 TB, 64 GB, DDR5-6000. $5500.” A few days had rolled by with the desiccating gales and chilling evenings. Theodore wore the faintest of smiles. He calculated, “If I save $500 each month, accounting for tax and shipment, then theoretically, I should be able to purchase this computer by the following Christmas. A Christmas present for myself.”
Theodore had set himself a goal. Consequently, he started paying much more attention to both his income and his living costs. He put more deliberation into his food purchases and how he utilized his utilities. “I don’t take showers often anyhow so every three days should be good. But I should remember to turn off all the lights before I fall asleep. For food, I should stop throwing out leftovers all the time. I should buy foods that can be refrigerated and still taste good. I can save quite a bit there.”
As he put more and more purpose into his actions, he began to question the unhealthy habits he had built up over the last six years. “Out of all my problems, I have way too much screen time.” He initiated a dopamine detox. He would actively hide his phone away in a drawer before going to bed. He would also unplug the wifi. Thus, if he felt the urge to go on his devices, he would have time to reevaluate.
The months flew by. Theodore had, at least, something to look forward to everyday while he noticed the trees vegetating tender new leaves late into spring and his room growing warmer each day.
The blueness of summer soon washed over like a tidal wave. Kids were out and about in the neighborhood, meeting at plazas, with seemingly endless free time at their disposal. Theodore saw no shortage of customers two-thirds his height ordering in the sandwich shop. For the past six years, he had forgotten. Were kids always this dramatic, brimming with emotions, jubilant and zany on laughter or gloomy and dark at the next, as if they were the final arbiter of an impending Armageddon?
“Mr. Granit?”
A chiseled jawline contrasting the chubby face he once bore but with the same formalism and curiosity Theodore remembered from his class, his old student now stood before him.
“Hi Jerry, what can I get for you today?” Theodore welcomed.
“Joe’s Special.”
“Alright.”
Seeing there was no one else waiting in line, Jerry acknowledged, “Long time.”
“You’re in college?”
“Yeah. One more year to go.”
“What are you studying?”
“Double majoring in physics and chemistry.”
Theodore smiled, asking, “And how’s that going?”
“It’s really coming together now that we’re taking modern thermodynamics and quantum mechanics. There’s some overlap between that and inorganic chem. What have you been up to?”
“I have been saving up to get a new computer.” Theodore felt his body tense up after sharing his goal. He hadn’t opened up to someone like that since her passing.
“Oh nice. Like just a new one because?”
“That, and gaming. Just an upgrade.”
“Are you getting a monitor, too?”
“I’ve been thinking about a curved Dell monitor, but that’s after I get the computer.”
“Are you still trying to teach? Or have you been teaching?” Jerry shyly questioned.
“No.”
The younger ones always had keener intuitions, especially Jerry. They had no problem reading Theodore like an open book.
Jerry kindly suggested, “I heard they’re trying something new back at Gillette. It’s a teaching position that’s kind of like a tutor but you teach almost all subjects from ninth through twelfth. I think you would be the best person for the job. I mean, you taught me lots of other stuff back then even though you were my English teacher. It’s the reason I’m majoring in physics and chemistry in the first place. I heard it pays really well, too.”
Theodore sighed. Did he really want to? Wrapping up Jerry’s Joe’s Special, he handed him his order, carefully stating, “Maybe.” Theodore really didn’t want to.
It was Jerry’s turn to smile.
“What are you so happy about?” Theodore asked.
“Nothing.”
“What? Stop that.”
Jerry laughed. “How much is the sandwich?”
Seeing there were still no customers, Theodore declared, “On the house.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Farewell, my Jere-Bear.”
Jerry’s face scrunched up in discomfort. He ran out the door. “Thanks, Mr. Granit!”
“Bye-bye.” Theodore waved.
At home, sitting alone in the dark, he clutched his phone in his right, reading the job description for Gillette High School:
“Multiple Subject Teacher. Tutor students who need additional help for multiple subject areas, up to a maximum of thirty students at once. Requirements:
* Able to teach English up to AP Lit, Math up to Multivariable Calculus, AP Chemistry, AP Biology, AP Physics up to E&M, AP World/US History, preferably one foreign language at the AP level + AP Psychology, and preferably SAT/ACT
* Have a BA/BS college degree
* Available on weekdays from 12-8 PM
* At least one year of teaching experience
Starting Rate: $50/hr
**Applicants may be required to take onsite tests concerning the subject areas listed above in order to verify their qualifications if needed.** ”
Dominating over all other emotions panged an insurmountable profusion of guilt. Replaying the momentary joy of seeing his old student evoked a heart wrenching anxiety so intense that Theodore involuntarily gagged. Was she watching? Tormented, he didn’t know what to do. He felt like he was suffocating, his heart beating faster and faster out of his chest. He couldn’t breathe. His anxiety took over. Perhaps he would die from a heart attack this time.
But he didn’t. Enveloped in the darkness, time continued to flow. Amidst the death of one, look at how much the other had grown. Jere-bear had surpassed Theodore. There was nothing more to be proud of.
Theodore phoned the high school early the next morning.
“Hi, I’m calling to ask about the multiple subject teacher position. I applied last night and was wondering when I should expect to receive a potential offer or rejection for an interview.”
“What’s your full name?”
“Theodore Granit.”
“One moment. Okay. Yes, we have your application. We will likely get back to you in a week or so.”
Theodore toiled away more hours at the sandwich shop while he waited. Ten grueling days inched by.
A melodic chime jingled. Theodore picked up mid-poo.
“Hi, is this Theodore?”
“Yes, this is him speaking.”
“Hi, so, we reviewed your application and are really interested to do a full interview with you sometime in the future. The only issue is we already have someone hired for this semester. Since this position is still relatively new, we’re trying it out with only one teacher. Good news is that for next semester, we might be opening up another position depending on how things go or if our current hire decides to leave.”
“So, does that mean there’s nothing right now?”
“Yes. Unfortunately.”
Theodore grunted on the toilet.
The person on the phone respectfully informed him, “We will try calling you back at some other time near November if we have anything.”
“Thank you.” Theodore briskly hung up. What was the point of everything? He felt like someone had shoved him back down into a hole.
By the time the blue summer had decayed into a monotony of white and gray, Theodore realized he wouldn’t make his goal in time. A variety of factors such as inflation and unforeseen expenditures postponed his big PC purchase by a minimum of two weeks. For the seventh year, there was no Christmas. For the seventh year, it seemed as if nothing had changed.
Sleeping in, wrapped under his blankets, he felt his mind freezing over, crawling to a frightening slow. This is my cryopreservation, he hazily remembered thinking. Would I ever wake up again?
Without hearing back from Gillette nor finding any remaining willpower left to apply for other teaching positions, he regressed to his bad habits once more. Screens, nocturnal, and filth, the nightmare ensued.
Then, the miracle occurred. On the night of Christmas Eve (or technically the morning of Christmas Day considering how late Theodore slept), in his depressed slumber, the dream of the individual stepping into the white room manifested.