Being forced to move so many states away from all that he once knew, Nessa was nervous to tackle his new life. Fortunately, it didn't take long for Nessa to meet a plethora of unique individuals who welcomed him into their lives:
The optimist, the k...
The overwhelming feeling of guilt never stopped eating away at Nessa. It chased him all the way to Chicago, and it continued to nip at his heels with each step. After speaking to Ian like that, he realized that not only did it never go away, but he hadn't changed either. It seemed that moving so far away didn't change anything. He was still evil. Sick. Twisted.
Bad things happen to bad people. That was why those events lead him so far from home. Because he wasn't a good person, because he deserved the karma. His actions were one day going to bite him in the ass, and they sure as hell had. Not just because of what happened, but because of that ceaseless plague that humans called guilt.
Once an addict, always an addict. And he was certainly addicted to one thing, even though it wasn't quite as conventional as drugs. Nessa liked to believe that that saying wasn't true. People can change, addicts can escape the chains that keep them rooted. But then he would be there all over again, only this time the setting was a library and the boy was named Ian, and he would realize how foolish he could be.
Then he would remember his friends' voices as they teased him. Though, he wasn't sure how accurate their voices were anymore even though it had only been a matter of months. He was sure that he wasn't remembering them quite right. They would always laugh and pat the top of his head. Charmer is at it again, they would say, you simply can't stop yourself, can you?
No. He couldn't. And now here he was, so far away from what he once knew, all because he couldn't stop himself. Nessa was deathly afraid that it would happen again as a result. With each passing day, he was growing wary of this false sense of security.
Charm? Their voices echoed. What the fuck did you do?
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The thumping of his shoe against the floor was like an odd lullaby to his ears. His eyelids consistently began to flutter shut every few seconds, before flying back open once he realized how close to sleep he had become. Then he would tune into that tapping of his shoe, and his thoughts would collect once more.
This continued on for quite a while, almost the entire hour. Eventually, he heard the classroom begin to stir, making him realize that it was time to get going. This class was over. Ilya forced his tired eyes back open, standing up and stretching his long limbs in a prolonged motion. He let out a grunt as he finished, glancing around lazily to look for his friends. He shared this class with almost all of them. Everyone except Keely and Emi, who had taken Oil Painting instead of Mythology.
"To the students still remaining, I wanted to try to inform the whole class that I will be gone soon for the next month and a half due to a surgery." Mrs. Pensi, who the students so kindly called Mrs. Penis, spoke to the half-empty room. "But since they left, I suppose you guys are special. Just please behave for your substitute, and refrain from instantly scaring him off."
"Sure thing Mrs. P." Ilya saluted to her before joining everyone by the door. Like he always did, Kiwi walked beside him. If he wasn't right at Ilya's side, then he would have been worried. They always walked out of class like this, bickering along the way.
