Phantom Lament

Chapter 1 - The Fear

"The truly natural things are dreams, which nature cannot touch with decay." - Bob Dylan

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"Einstein once theorized that energy does not dissipate, it simply takes form elsewhere. Scientific studies suggest that humans possess and emit a similar energy, in the form of brain waves, so it's not out of the ordinary to ask ourselves if there is a life after death. For all we know, you could be reborn as an elegant eagle, representing freedom, with the endless expanse of sky at your disposal. A deer, representing naivete, with lush forests and mountain-ridden plains to call your home."

The professor adjusted his glasses for a moment to illustrate a pause. He was well-received amongst his students as a passionate educator, who held shaping the minds of his young would-be successors with the highest regard. A man any youth would be proud to call an instructor, but also known to have a flair for the dramatic. He was the proud owner of a bright dirty blonde mane that curled just below his thick, horn-rimmed glasses, kind, mesmerizing emerald eyes vibrant enough to woo any self-respecting woman, and a touch of five o'clock shadow he wore at all times despite his primped and proper demeanor. Even a collective of his female students idolized his gentlemanly manner to a degree of obsession, and his classy attire of fashionable suit and tie combinations always reflected his genuine disposition. But above all, he was always known to be the smartest man in a room, and that's what set him apart from the rest of his peers and allotted him his level of due respect.

His gaze averted to one lone student in the back, who had his head toppled into his arms, most likely asleep. It was common knowledge that the professor had always had issues with this particular student, but he always calculated it best to give him the occasional break. The boy had lost his father during his childhood to a car accident, and no one man could ever grasp the reality of such a loss as much as the professor; an aspect that often explained his seemingly carefree nature toward the boy's uninspired attitude.

"Or a wolf, symbolic of isolation, where you must make a home for yourself, and no one else."

The professor followed up his brilliant monologue of personification by bringing it home with a subtle, directive cough; the single throat clearing gesture designed to bring closure to an awkward silence or attention to the conversation at hand. The gesture that every student had been expecting since the moment the boy made his entrance into the classroom late about twenty minutes prior, and had summoned some stifled laughter from a few of the judgmental bunch of every class that claimed the seats closest to the doorway for swift exits back to their fulfilling social lives.

"Parish." the professor bellowed smoothly across the classroom.

Once it appeared that his request for attention was to be spurned, another student sitting next to the boy nudged him in the arm to assist the cause.

"Quinn. Newton's got you in his sights, man." he warned with an impatient tone.

Quinn hesitantly withdrew his head from his desk and lazily cocked back in his seat. He was a slightly athletic-built young man with a stylishly frizzled auburn comb-over and leering jade eyes that hid behind thinly-framed trivex eyeglasses. He was dressed in his usual navy blue cardigan sweater over a white tee, tattered leather Chuck Taylors and stone-washed blue jeans, and was always known to hide himself under a gray, wool pea coat that people had assumed was sentimental to him, for reasons no one ever understood, or even questioned, due to their lack of legitimate interest.