A Descent into Darkness

Past Lies

"That will do for today everyone," Professor Thompson calls, signalling our lecture is over. "Just a reminder, papers due in two weeks so next class will be the time for questions. You know I won't answer anything last minute."

And yet, half the people here are going to ask anyway, I think dismissively as I pack my laptop away amid the backdrop of criminology students starting to file out of the classroom.

"See you next week," classmate Matt says as he walks by.

"You too," I reply out of politeness. Why the hell does that guy talk to me? What have I ever done to give him the impression we may become friends? Don't get me wrong, I'm sure there's no malice in his heart, but Jesus Christ, shut the fuck up. I've thought about shutting him up by cutting his throat.

"Nate!" a voice calls as I exit the room into the naturally lit hallway.

I smile as I turn around. This isn't one of the people I try to avoid.

"Hey Erin," I call back as my friend Erin Kowalski runs up next to me. We're both in that class, but I like to sit up front and her in the back so we don't speak during it. Normally I'll wait for her after but today I have an appointment to get to before Veronica's birthday party tonight.

"What's the rush?" she asks, struggling to keep up. "Gotta get home to prep for tonight?"

"Nah," I answer as we start down a stairwell toward the lobby. "I'm actually meeting an old friend from high school in North York."

"Oh?" she says as we head down the stairs. "Why not invite them tonight?"

I shrug in response and say, "Honestly he's not big on gatherings. Plus, he doesn't know Veronica that well."

"I see," she answers as we head into the lobby, though I detect some skepticism in her voice. "Well, I'll walk with you to the subway. I'm heading home first to shower and change before tonight."

"You bringing anyone?" I ask. "You know you're welcome to. Veronica's bringing some Tinder guy named Greg."

"Nah," she replies. "I'll already have everyone I need right there at the bar."

"Awe, you're gonna make me blush," I say, mocking her a little. "Anyways, you got any plans this weekend?"

"Not really," she says, though something about her tone makes it clear she's lying. I smirk a little, figuring she has some kind of date she hasn't told us about.

As we continue down the hall, I reflect on the actual reason I'm heading to North York. I'm seeing my psychiatrist and I'm relatively sensitive when it comes to that, for obvious reasons. I know I could just make up some reason which sounds better than, I want to kill people, but it's not really anyone's business anyways.

Erin and I exit the building, about 200 metres from the crosswalk leading to the entrance of St. George Subway Station, the main hub for the University of Toronto.

"You know what, you go ahead," Erin says, turning the opposite direction. "I'm going to run down to Robarts and do some last-minute research for that paper. See you tonight!" She dashes off before I can even reply.

Shrugging, I resume my walk. Ten minutes later, I'm sitting on the subway, with my headphones in and blasting LMFAO. But I barely register the music. Instead, my mind keeps drifting back to my first meeting with Dr. James. The combination of my horrendous dream last night, Dad busting Liza's dishonesty, and me lying to Erin about where I'm going triggered memories from that day a few months ago, when I nearly hit rock bottom. It was then I decided I couldn't go on without professional help. But I lied in order to get it.