The alarum bells of the demonic klaxon wailed into the early mornings. Fitful and frightful sleep was graciously untethered from the sleeping –

“Tyler! I’m not going to tell you again! It’s time for you to get ready for school.”

“Yes, mom!” Tyler called back. He got up and gave a light yawn to the early morning before turning off the alarm clock beside his bed. Bouncing out of bed, the young teen made his way to the bathroom to get ready for the day. The light turned on and so did the water, and twenty minutes later emerged a teen boy from a bathroom.

His hair brushed, his teeth, brushed. His cheap whiskers, staved off by the graceful arc of a blade. Some days it seemed like this tenuous grasp on his growth had somehow stunted him, as much as his facial hair was the source of many a wonton—

“Tyler! Bus is coming!” His mother echoed from below the steps. Oh, no! Tyler thought. Despite the school bus coming down a long stretch of road and having a couple stops to make before it finally reached the porch outside his home, he only had a couple of minutes left to get his shoes on and run out the door. It was the beginning of a new school day and the beginning of his last year at high school. Anxious as he was to leave his friend behind who wasn’t in the same grade, and worried that he won’t be able to keep in touch with all the ones he knew in his grade, he felt excited. Jumpy, even. Somehow, he just knew that today was going to be an interesting day. He wasn’t sure why, but he always monologued to himself whenever he got like this, on days that he couldn’t help but feel something big was going to happen. Rare as that was to coincide with his moods notwithstanding.

Slipping into his no-lace shoes, Tyler darted outside to stand next to the waiting group of two or three fellow students out by his mailbox.

“Hey guys!” he waved.

“Tyler! Good to see you, bud. How was the last week of vacation?” His friend, Orlando, asked. Orlando had a good nature to him, always smiling and always willing to help anyone who asked, never asking, or expecting anything in return. Tyler asked him once if he was an actual, real-life saint sent by the gods to help us puny mortals with our petty affairs. He got a good laugh out of that one.

“Good, good. Got a lot of sleep in.” came his reply. Truth be told, he loved sleeping. His shifting and colorful dreams always had something new to show him every night. Visions of fantastical other planets and stories of romance most sincere, Timothy wondered what future dream he would have tonight. He hoped he’d be able to continue to follow the exploits of the couple, Abraham and Cynthia, on their daring quest to find Cynthia’s long-lost sister, rescuing her from the evil clutches of the sinister Star Gazer; an interstellar outlaw who had managed to evade even the best of the Galactic Federation’s forces. The love of the two star-crossed shipmates blossoming slowly over their shared adventure of Orpheus and Eurydice, them being analogues for the two sisters, and him being the self-insert love in this slightly skewed Greek story turned space adventure. For she was a noble-lady of an important house, and he just a simple bounty hunter, together they—

Suddenly, a finger, then a pain in Tyler’s forehead. “Ow! What was that for?” Tyler said, bringing his hands up to rub the spot on his forehead that got flicked by the traitorous friend, now laughing at his reaction. Tyler’s cheeks colored slightly ad his friend’s laugh. He always loved that laugh.

“You’re gonna miss the bus ya goof” his friend said jovially.

“Oh…”

And together they rode the bus to school, for the final year.

◊◊◊

Awful. Just dreadfully awful. Thought Tyler. The day wasn’t that bad, but Tyler had a knack for catastrophizing the simple day-to-day life of a small town in No Where-ville when it didn’t meet the impossible standards of Tyler’s imagination.

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Am I too much at the whims of my own internal imagination? I am stuck within the headspace, such as I am… Tyler thought to himself. Naw, it’s the world that should change to reflect me! He followed up internally with what he assumed a megalomaniac would say in response to his own rhetorical question. He figured he could get through a whole other class with just that thought, and to his delight, he did. Spinning off, that thought into a world of super heroines and super villainesses fighting against each other. One side acquiescing nothing, needing to keep hold of their tenuous grasp of right and wrong, backed up by nothing more than sunk-cost fallacy at the lives lost and needing everything to be for the greater good, and the other stuck trying to live in a world that forgot about them…

◊◊◊

Before he knew it, it was lunchtime, and he couldn’t find his friend at his locker. Odd. He assumed he had already taken off toward the lunchroom and decided to head there himself. Tyler decided to take a shortcut through the Hallway of Achievement, as it was called. In reality, it was just the wall the school used to display all the trophies won by former students.

“Oh no.” Tyler said. He had not noticed the tall teen sneaking up on him until it was too late.

“Oh yes.” Came the reply.

Durian. The bully. Scourge of the west—

“We haven’t gotten to chat since last year, how’d the summer treat you?” Came the question, rudely interrupting the brilliant segue into another fantasy.

“Good.” Came the curt reply. Suddenly, all fun had been taken away from Tyler’s mind. Replaced now with a cold indifference to the world whenever he had to interact with it at length. The entry to which was quickened by his bully’s presence.

“I just wanted to make sure we had an agreement just like last year.”

“Yes, Buzz. I’ll continue to do your math homework in exchange for you not taking my lunch money and not letting me be bullied by anyone.”

“Good lad.” Came the reply as he tussled Tyler’s hair and continued his way, ignoring or not getting the reference. Tyler normally liked the height he was at, despite being the shortest in his class, except in moments like this where it let the bullies in his life infantilize him with these mocking gestures. No longer able to restart his brain on the fast track to imagination zone, Tyler walked the rest of the way to the lunchroom.

◊◊◊

“Dude, you okay?” Came the concerned question of his friend. Orlando’s concern immediately worked wonders on Tyler’s mood.

“Better now. What’d you get for lunch?” Tyler replied, deflecting. He didn’t want to go into the brush with his bully again, and didn’t want his friend to worry about him. He’d find out, eventually, but he didn’t want his friend to worry about him any sooner than necessary. Besides, it was never like anything violent happened with his bully.

“Ham and cheese, I swear it’s the best they serve here.”

“I hear it’s because an old teacher really liked the sandwich and paid for good ingredients to the kitchen out of his own pockets.” Came the voice of Kyle, another of their friend, who sat down opposite Tyler and next to Orlando. Kyle was a year younger than Tyler and Orlando, reminding Tyler that after this year they won’t be able to hang out with each other. Fresh fears of losing friends came to the forefront of his mind before Tyler hurriedly shooed them away.

“Wow, that’s pretty generous of him. Do you think he was independently wealthy? I hear teachers don’t get paid much.” Orlando questioned.

“Must-a been,” Kyle replied. “Least he might be well ‘nough off that he splurged on it while he worked here. Maybe he just hated makin’ his own lunch?” Kyle said, his mouth half-full of food.

“But then how is the kitchen still able to afford the good ingredients?” Tyler thought out loud. “It’s not like he gave a huge grant to the school for 30 years of good ham.”

“That’s… That’s a good point.” Kyle said, now deep in thought while staring at Orlando’s sandwich intensely. “Maybe the school picked up on the cost when they found out how much we all loved it?”

“I dunno, the only people who get paid less than teachers are the lunch ladies, I think.” Orlando replied.

“Maybe a teacher who knew him decided to continue the tradition after he left? Ooh! And maybe they were fated lovers but had to separate due to familial troubles.” Tyler said, more excited as he was finally able to slip back into his constant narration of daily life.

“Tyler.” Orlando laughed his name, reminding Tyler of how much he loved to hear his friend laugh. “Your imagination could write six books a day if you could just teach it to write.”

“Jealous?” Tyler winked and showed his tongue to his best friend.

“Very.” Orlando continued the banter as he dove into his delicious ham sandwich. “It really is a good sandwich, though.” He said through bites.