𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄

3

I'm in my second class of the day, sometime around one p.m., jotting down notes from an old PowerPoint made in 2014. It's only my second time attending this class in person, as our work had been online the first month of the semester due to the professor having an unforeseen family emergency. The first day of our physical classes, he had a fellow colleague fill in for him so our class wouldn't be anymore behind than it already was with the material.

The classrooms aren't big here, instead somewhat like a high school classroom. There's a SmartBoard, a two white boards, a teacher's desk tucked off in the corner and puzzle-shaped desks that fit together perfectly when we have seminars and want to sit in a circle. There's about forty seats in here, but only around twenty people fill them up. I sit off to the left side in the middle, the September sunlight burning through the class on my left shoulder as I quickly write.

"...is a key difference between sociopaths and psychopaths, although pop culture attempts to tell us that there is not. Don't think of your favorite movies and television shows when you want to picture the likeness of a psychopath or sociopath, do not even think of a murderer or a serial killer. Here's why," the professor goes on, clicking to the next slide.

He stands at the right edge of the board, or maybe the left...no, the right- I always get my directions confused. Our professor is middle-aged, a wheel chair near his desk for whenever his muscles get too tired, thick white glasses and a flare for fashion it seems. He was White, like most of my professors at the college, with grey hair slicked to the side and bright blue eyes.

Professor Brennan, as the board read in his elegant script courtesy of a dark blue marker fresh out of the pack, wore a tight black corset across his wide waist, a dark green skirt and a white muscle shirt with black petal designs. His long skirt swept around his feet as he gestured to the board and the picture of a well known psychopath appeared.

"We all know him, we've all heard his name," he states, allowing for us to view who he spoke of. Just as quickly as he put his face up there, the slide was moved onto the next. "But I won't spend long in this class giving crude people more life in crimes that left people dead. I don't usually start off with this in my introductory classes, but I felt something within me that said to do so," he clasped his hands together.

"Write this down on a fresh page, top of the line," his voice crescendos amongst the class walls. He goes to sit atop his desk, legs crossed at the ankle as his gaze surveys over each of us. My mechanical pencil sits at the ready in my hand as we all wait for his next words.

"Write this: 'The Contrast of Apathy and Empathy'."

Professor Brennan looks down and checks his watch, standing up slowly and scrolling along the face of it.

"Ah, just in time," his voice holds a light, sarcastic tone, "Class, I have someone for you all to meet. He will be my GTA, or TA, as some call it. I'll allow for him to introduce himself," he gestures towards the door.

Professor Brennan looks away from his Galaxy watch, as a soft knock comes down on the class door. The professor waves his hand for the person to continue in, with slight impatience. I sit up a bit in my seat, not sure who might be entering.

A tall boy- no man, comes inside the class. Baby blue button-up shirt and navy blue slacks that fall to right above his ankles, dark brown coily hair hiding a decent line up, a mediumly tanned skin tone around the shade of caramel I'd say, and eyes a deep shade of brown.

"This is NJ," Professor Brennan gives him a playful nudge. An easy smile falls onto NJ's face and he claps his hands together, sitting down a black satchel bag he brought with him.