Myocardium

Part 30

Do I want to go to college today? 

No. 

Is it really up to me to decide? 

Also no. 

So, what can I do about it? 

Absolutely nothing. 

Push through as always, that's all I really do.

While I'm spacing out somewhere between some other people who seem to be just as apathetic as me, Rafael enters the room being as enthusiastic as always by the looks of it and elegantly swings the door shut behind him. To get everyone's attention, he clears his throat, subsequentially raising his strong, jovial voice.

"So," he drops his bag onto the teacher's desk and turns his focus towards all of us, sighing,
"Let's get on with the subject at hand, why don't we?"

His clear motivation seems to surprise the entire room. I don't understand how he can be so awake and lively at this time of the day, it's inhumane. 

Yet another foundation for my reasoning of why he surely must be an angel. With a now rather dour frown on his serious face, he turns to face the blackboard, where he writes down some technical terms, most likely of topics we will be discussing today. 

So far, I must say that, while I used to be sceptical of the practicality of this program, his insights and explanations in simple terms have actually made our regular biology lectures quite interesting. I have even grown to dare asking a question or two about matters I'm unsure about. 

Let's be real, backstory aside, him and I are at college, and I do still very much have courses to get through and pass. So, if the opportunity is given, why not make the most of having a professional for direct insights and aid. 

One of the topics we briefly touch up in are bacterial infections in the context of cell sizing, illustrating the difference between eukaryotic and prokaryotic cells...or something like that. 

I must admit, the longer I do listen to him, the more his uncertainty about what to say next comes through. 

It's not overly noticeable or anything, but it does show that the matter at hand is not exactly his field of expertise.

My personal impression could  most certainly come from the fact that I have a difficult time to understand the topic myself though, so I could definitely be mistaken. 

In the morning, I have spontaneously decided to pay the money for the week ahead, so I won't have to bother meeting Joe for the rest of it. Hell, the more I think about him and everything he's done to me, the more I feel the need to try getting away from him and all his dirty crimes.

But today, it's more convenient for him to be there, so I get a chance to explain myself. Still, all while bring there with him, his presence makes me feel endangered and uncomfortable, making my hands shake and my blood run cold as the flashbacks continue replaying in my head.

I don't think I'll ever understand why the memories come back worse on some days compared to others.

"You don't look too good, man," Joe sighs and reaches his hand out to run his fingers down my arm. Why can't he stop touching me, for fuck's sake?! 

Why can't he just let me live?!

"I don't know what you're talking about," I respond in a steady, impassive voice, not backing away from his touch nor from where I'm standing so confidently. 

His hand, I can feel it take a hold of my wrist and pull me a step forward, so I am forced to be intolerably close to him, looking up into his evil eyes.