My Beautiful Mind

6.

I'm jolted awake by the slam of a door down the hall. Instinctively, I brace myself for another hit, but it never comes. Gone was the smell of exhaust, the sound of car horns, and the sight of towering buildings. The subsequent sound of a student heading to the bathrooms, confirms my suspicions. Still slightly disorientated, I clutch the bed sheets in my hands in a deathly grip after coming to terms that I never left my bed at all. "But...I was there," I attempt to convince myself, Alex's face, Evan's face, still fresh in my mind.

I miss him so much.

I bury my face in my pillow and calm myself down. In a few moments, my breaths start to even out, my heart rate slows, and my cheeks cool to a normal temperature. I square my shoulders before swinging my legs off the side of the bed to get ready for the day. Nine o'clock is approaching fast and its the last day of classes before finals week. As I head out the door to brush my teeth, I see a white blur in the corner of my eye. Suddenly curious, I head towards the window and look out. I release a shuddering breath that I didn't know I was holding. Everything the eye could see is dusted with a fluffy coat of snow. I smile shakily at the welcome sight and continue with my morning routine.

Once I quickly shower and dress, I'm out the door with another granola bar in my hand. I always have a stash of food at the ready for rushed mornings such as these. My boots crunch on the freshly fallen snow and I inwardly smile. Imprinted in the snow behind me are my footprints, so incredibly tiny in a sea of white. Although they're insignificant things for most people, the marks in the snow hold a special place in my heart. They're physical reminders of my existence in the world. Disrupting snow is my own way of convincing myself that I matter, that I make a some sort of impact on the world, albeit a small one.

Five hours and a countless number of footprints later, I walk out of the humanities building relieved that I made it through another semester. "Only five more to go," I mutter to myself as I make the snowy walk back to my room to prepare for one final exam and write another paper. It's been steadily snowing all day–the snow banks gathering on the sidewalks have to be about two feet tall. To my delight, it's the heavier, wetter type of snow; the kind perfect for making snowmen and sledding. Evan and I were born in the heart of winter; it was only right that we absolutely lived for these snowy, blustery days. As I glance out at the beautiful scenery around me, a memory comes to mind.

By the large lawn overlooking the campus center, I see my ten year old self rolling a knee-high snowball with my brother and our best friend Jamie, my cheeks flushed from the cold and from laughter. The three of us told ourselves we'd make the best snowman ever before we were called in for hot chocolate. I briefly stop to watch the memory play out and smile as Jamie and I sneakily make snowballs while Evan struggles to lift the second part of the snowman onto its base. My snowball finds its mark on the back of Evan's hat-covered head and Jamie's lands on his bottom, our laughter echoing throughout the winter wonderland. Evan looks betrayed as he turns around to find the sources of the snowballs. Soon enough, we're all wrestling in the snow, our snowman project long forgotten. Evan's shrieking laughter as Jamie and I team up to tickle him is all that remains of the memory before it fades away; the campus lawn returning to its empty, undisturbed state.

I have to tear my eyes away from the lawn and force my legs to begin moving once more before my body decides to stay rooted its place in the fervent hopes that another precious fragment of my former life would play itself out.

College. Final exam. Final essay. Study. Write. Bachelor's degree. Focus.

*****

For the next few days, I'm so occupied with finishing the semester strong that just for a brief, wonderful span of time, I don't notice the gaping hole in my chest, the ghost of my brother, the prying, critical eyes. Now, as I print out the last page of my essay in my room with the fifth cup of coffee today in my right hand, I have no problem sleeping for a week straight after this. I took my exam the day before and left the testing room feeling pretty confident that I scraped by with an A minus in the class. Unfortunately, I can't indulge myself in sleep just yet even after completing all my assignments. Tomorrow, I'm taking an early bus back home so the rest of the night will most likely be spent finding my suitcase within the depths of my closet and filling it with belongings to last until the end of January.