AzLean Soldier

Chapter 1 - Normal day at college

Walking to school is like any other normal day, unless you're in college that is. I live in a room numbered 105 with a roommate named Peter, who is a very respectful and nice friend of mine. He always hangs out with me, saying that I am not that bad to talk to. I always thought that I was the annoying one, but now I guess that's not true. Whatever, as long as Peter isn't one of those people who bullies other kids just because they have horrible clothes or some stupid shit like that.

Whenever I go to college, Peter and I walk around the yard talking about our lives and what's happened lately. I am not a party maker, but I can tell based off of Peter that he really loves getting in with the ladies. Honestly, he should really look at himself in the mirror more often. I swear to god, he has this look to him whenever he stays up during the night. He is always still hyped out and very talkative about what happened, and usually drools all over his shirt when he is drunk. It is disgusting as fuck.

That's why I don't go to parties with him, he embarrasses me and I don't want to be rude to him about his own behavior. Peter and I came across this booth near the front of the college. Two students who seemed to be around in their twenties were wearing football jerseys. One of them, a female with glasses, hands over a pamphlet with information about the football game that is going to happen soon for the school. I am no football fan at all, but when it comes to Peter, he is always all over the damn sport.

I don't mind or frankly care about what he likes as a sport as long as he doesn't pull me with him; however, I am completely willing to watch him do it. Gives me something to do, you know? Peter grabs the pamphlet and looks through it. After he finds the page he's looking for, he looks back up at me. "You know, I was thinking I should get you out of that room and get you on your feet." Seriously? I was just talking about this in my mind. It's like he's some sort of telepath, and he is good at it despite the fact that he isn't one.

"Peter, I told you already, I am not a sports person." He sighs and looks at the pamphlet again. "But . . . I need a hit man or some guy to help me with this. You have no idea how difficult it is to be out there without a friend of mine." I shake my head. "What do you mean? I watch you all the time when you are out there." He puts the pamphlet into a pocket and looks me straight in the eyes. "It's not the same, though . . ." I stopped him. "Don't even try getting me into it. I am perfectly fine staring at my computer screen for twenty-four hours straight, thank you."

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Whatever you say. If you change your mind, I am always willing to help you get into it." I walk with him down a sidewalk path with more stands and such on the sides of it. "Keep dreaming." I laugh a little afterward. It's around September right now, so lots of programs and such are usually out here by then. I usually would try joining things like Chess, Programming, Robotics, or really anything that includes intelligent thinking. Peter says that I am such a nerd. Honestly, I know he's right.

The bell was about to ring shortly, so Peter and I split up and headed to our separate classes. The classes grew boring with every passing second. However, like any normal day, the hours passed by quickly and I was finally able to head back to my dorm. It's not a very special room, just a room for me and Peter to stay in. His area is pretty messy with flyers and magazines for sports, while my side is mostly pretty empty. I just have a bed, a desk, and a very expensive, high-end computer.

I arrive at my dorm and go in, Peter yet again not here before me. He usually is out at the field until a little later in the afternoon, so I get an hour or two to mess around. I sit down at my computer desk and get on my most favorite video game. It's called Stick Defense, which I have been playing since I was seven. It's an addictive game, or at least it is for me. Peter says it's too harsh on my brain to stay on the computer for long periods of time.

Seriously, he really likes being healthy. To be honest, being healthy is just a waste of time for me. I don't really care how or when I die—It's just life, man. I remain on the computer for about a good twenty minutes. I lean back in my nice-looking office chair and sigh as I look up at the ceiling. Life is really good for me if you haven't realized. Sure, I might be very busy, but who fucking cares?

I soon hear a knock at the door. I get up from my chair and head over to the door to open it, revealing a very beautiful woman who seems to be in her twenties. She smiles as she looks at me with her very bright face. "Hello! I'm here to see if Peter was here, are you Peter?" I shake my head. "Nah, I'm Floyd. Who are you?" I ask, to which she gives a small smile. "I'm Samantha. Peter asked me to meet him here for lunch. Where is he?" I point down the hallway and toward an exit leading to the field out back.

"He's playing with his football team outside. He should be available soon if not now." Samantha nods and thanks me, to which I give a quick nod in return as she heads to the field's exit. Peter has a date with a girl? The fuck did this come from? To be honest here, Peter isn't much of an online guy, at least as far as I know. More than likely he met her online if she doesn't know what he looks like. That shouldn't surprise me too much about Peter, but he still isn't much of a computer guy.

Unless she was from a dating phone app, on a phone he almost never brings around. I decided to close the door and look for his phone. I soon find it on his bed and turn it on, bringing up the apps and looking for any contacts, eventually finding a shitload of contacts for a lot of women. Some of the women were named Brittney, Alisha, Courtney, others named just simply Beth. I soon find the exact contact that is quite recent, from Samantha. Tod says, "Meet me on Friday at 4:00 p.m. after my college classes to go out for lunch." Samantha replied shortly after, saying, "Alrighty, dorky dork."Oh great . . . he is dating some slut named Samantha. Doesn't surprise me. I turn off his phone and put it back on his bed and sigh as I lie on my own bed. "I am so tired of this work, but I gotta keep going if I am really gonna get anywhere in life." I close my eyes and begin to doze off to sleep. Within a few minutes, I completely pass out.