|The Raining King
Author: Fribe PM
A boy drifts through friends and life in his final year of school, as he prepares to leave his isolated Alaskan hometown. (Moved to Biography)Rated: Fiction T - English - Friendship/Humor - Chapters: 117 - Words: 140,019 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 6 - Follows: 6 - Updated: 04-28-13 - Published: 01-30-12 - id: 2993240
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Sunday, March 31st
I had another scare tactic college dream last night.
For some reason, my dreams tell me that college is like a gigantic high school. And I mean that literally, it's all in one huge building, dorms and classes and everything, all under one roof. At least the second time it's looked like that.
I think it was the first day, the move-in day. Not really sure where, the place didn't look much like UAA. The scare started while I was tracking down my room in the building. The hallways and floors of dorms seemed endless, kind of like a big hotel, hallways this way and hallways that way, doors, doors, doors, doors. Maybe even like a prison. And that was basically all the dormish hotel areas were, just rooms. No fun common areas, just row after row of plain doors.
I found mine – Room 370, I actually remember the number – and about crapped myself.
It was tiny. It was a tiny, tiny room. I mean, granted, dorm rooms basically are just bedrooms, right? Sometimes with a little kitchen, a shared bathroom. But you don't have to spend all your time in there, there's normally other areas, friendly places to hang out. Not here.
So I looked in the room, and got this horrible anxious feeling. This lifeless, puny little room, with two little beds. sharing it with another person. For almost a year. It scared the hell out of me. I wasn't going to make it – heck, I wasn't going to make it a night here. I wanted to back out, to run away and go home before they locked me in. It was all a mistake, I needed out. Now.
I took a couple of walks around the big, sprawling campus of a building, trying to get my bearings so that I'd know how to find my way home to whatever obscure, out of the way hall that my room was off of.
I came across an indoor stadium, where there was some kind of big welcoming party and event going on in the bleachers and down on the field. About a hundred people playing a big game of dodgeball while others watched. I watched from up on the concourse, didn't want to go wedge myself in somewhere where I might not have been invited.
An errant ball made its way up to me, and I tried throwing it back down to the field, but didn't get enough behind it, and it fell down into the crowd, smacking some girl in the back of the head. Apparently, that was cause for an international incident, because started getting real mad. Not sure if it was someone important, but all of a sudden I was looking like I had a target on my head for doing something unspeakable, and backed out of the arena, trying to casually run away.
Wound around the hallways for what felt like an hour before I found my way back to my jail cell of a room. Sat there doing nothing, got the itch to leave, and got confronted by a few pissed off upperclassmen from the dodgeball game.
I volunteered to go down to the field and let some of the girls throw balls at my face from point-blank range to appease them and get me off the hook. It made sense at the time.
So they did. I took a few whacks to the head, took my lumps, made my amends, and retreated back to the room. That still wasn't good enough for one of the toughguys, who followed me back, stalking me, came into my room, and started wrecking shit and beating me up.
I made it to the phone and actually called 9-1-1, but no one was answering. If they were, I couldn't hear them, so I left the receiver dangling so that hopefully they'd pick up that I was getting assaulted and triangulate the location, or whatever they do to track down calls.
I don't like this. I don't like being scared of something that's still months down the line. That probably means the dread and unfortunate anticipation is only going to get worse, and my sleeping brain becomes a danger zone. Just that fear of showing up and realizing that I'm in over my head, and wanting to go crying home, curl up under the covers of my own bed in own room, and reset back a year. But it won't be possible, this place is going away.
I try rationalizing and bargaining with myself. Next week I'll get to see a tour of the college, how it works, what the buildings and rooms look like, how classes are run and books are bought and all of that. If it looks like a potential nightmare scenario – you know, nothing but bread and water to eat, lights out at nine, slave labor on the side, living with five other dudes in a tiny room – then I'll know, you know, whoa, definitely backing out of this.
But I'm getting all hyped up and scared over nothing. It'll be fine. I don't know where I'm getting this horror stories and visions in my head from. I'll find out what the truth is soon enough. If the place was some godless cesspool of evil incarnate, I wouldn't have heard all the good things about it that I already have.