Alamort

17. Priya

How to Save a Life - The Fray

T his morning, I asked River for a little time by myself. She was disappointed, but relented. There was no coffee first thing. No one sitting in a chair by the window scrolling through their phone waiting for my alarm to go off.

The room feels emptier without her. She brings life into a room without trying. I find myself missing the sunshine in the form of River. Her presence makes me less alone. I’ve been here exactly seven days, including the start of class and so far, things have been progressing smoothly. I’m up to speed on all the curriculum, thanks to my last school. The real reason I needed this morning to myself was to send a text to Addi. Since I’ve been here, I have mainly been limited to “I miss you”, and “I love you” messages. Pulling out my phone, I update my sister on my life.

Cingulomania; a strong desire to hold someone in your arms. I believe I relate to that. I don’t mean to send short messages. The school load was more than I thought it would be.

Things that are new lately. I almost punched that one Leticia bitch in the face. She was recording me when I came out of the bathroom, after someone shredded my clothes. She has some weird obsession with Bennett Demonio, he’s cute enough. But not enough to risk my freedom.

I still haven’t heard from mom or dad, but maybe that’s for the best. River should be here soon, Iloveyou. Talk to you soon. -Firefly

Within the next hour, River promptly knocks on the door. A puzzled look on her face, a black envelope in hand.

“Where did you get that?” My pulse rises rapidly. I caught her red-handed!

She side-eyes me, “It was taped to your door. I pulled it off when you opened the door. What is it?” I’m unsure how to answer because I don’t quite know either. This is the second one I’ve gotten. Grabbing it from her hands, I rip it open.

I watch you when you sleep. I haunt you during the day. You stare at me and see nothing but darkness. What am I?

River’s head rests on my shoulder looking at the black paper matching the one in the bottom of my nightstand. She jumps back, “It’s a riddle!” She says excitedly. I furrow my brows. A riddle?

“Yeah, I’ve seen these before. My brother and I used to read them all the time when we were younger.”

“Where?” Thinking the envelopes are a normal occurrence and I’m overreacting.

“Online, duh. Or a book.” she laughs.

“Not the envelope attached to the door?”

“Yeah, no. That’s weird,” she grimaces. Not making me feel any better. “Fear.” River whispers. The hair on the back of my arms stands.

“What?”

“The answer is fear.”

I peek my head out the doorway, looking both ways for any notable disturbances, only to come up short.

“You didn’t leave this? Or see anyone outside my door?” She looks off to the side in thought before telling me she hasn’t.

“Does it say anything else?” she asks. Showing her the envelope only has my first name on it.

“I’ll see if I can hack into the dorm footage. Let you know what I find.”

A weight is lifted off my shoulders. Hopefully, we can catch the person responsible. The headmaster won’t do shit about it. I will though.

We’re off to our first class. Psychology is first for me, while River has calculus. I’m happy to report I only have P. E every other day, as opposed to the standard every day.

River leaves me at the doorway of Mrs. Warren’s class, and I take my assigned seat by the window, leaving the seat to the right of me vacant. She’s an older woman in her 40s with her PhD in psychology. It’s refreshing to be taught by someone who has worked in the field. Rather than someone who can only answer questions about the class. Mrs. Warren always dresses in a professional pencil skirt. Her hair is up in a tight ‘no nonsense’ bun. Glasses rest on the end of her nose as she goes over the notes for today’s class. She’s a fair teacher. Understanding when it comes to open and effective communication.

Her helpfulness at this school is unmatched. She’s ready to assist, whether it’s through answering emails or addressing questions about assignments. The type of person who should be a teacher. Someone patient, compassionate, and dedicated to helping people learn. When asked about the topic of the day, a small smile tugs at her lip—a rare sight, considering her usual expression of irritation.

Getting myself comfortable, I lay out my things neatly. A chair pulls out next to me and a body plops down, startling me.

Well, well, well. If it isn’t the third Demon that I’ve been fortunate enough to avoid, until now. His dark hair is perfectly tamed. The down-turned corners of his pouty, full lips reveal his irritation. There isn’t a piece of clothing that doesn’t have a hard ironed line in it. Crew Demonio is disgustingly tidy. I refrain from the temptation to crinkle his impeccable attire. My fingers tingle with the desire to mess up his perfectly styled hair. He’s so perfect. It makes my skin crawl. This is what my parents wanted me to be like. Who the hell made him look like this?

“Are you just going to stare at me?” Crew huffs, waking me from my thoughts.

“I’m sorry. This seat hasn’t had a single student since I’ve been in this class. And all the sudden there is. I think that’s due for a little staring.” I say defensively because he called me out. “If it makes you feel better, it’s more of a ‘why the fuck are you here’ stare.” Crew glares from beneath his lashes. Shrugging, just because we have to sit together doesn’t mean we have to acknowledge each other. That is true until Mrs. Warren opens her mouth, and for once I’m not excited.

“Today, we start our semester project. We will work in pairs. Each pair will be picking a mental illness to report on. This will count for at least half of your grade in my class.” My shoulders slump with relief. I read the syllabus for this class and got a head start on this project. Especially since it’s a huge chunk of my grade. With or without the infamous Crew, I’m determined to pass.

Mrs. Warren starts with us. Before Crew can open his mouth, I let her know the topic ‘we’ chose. I’ve done most of the work already. He won’t fuck this up for me. I’m ahead in all my classes and it will stay that way.

“We’ll take DID. Dissociative Identity Disorder.” Warren claps her hands together excitedly. Then moves on to the next group.

“Why did you pick that mental illness, Priya?” Crew quietly questions. His shoulders are tense. It’s just a class, jeez.

“I already have most of the work done. I was prepared to do this assignment on my own. So, if you want to go over what I have done and add whatever is left to get some credit. That would be helpful.”

“And if I don’t?” He sneers. I seemed to have struck some chord.

Sighing, “Then nothing, Crew. I won’t have you mess with the grades I try so hard to get and keep. Do it. Don’t do it. I won’t hold my breath. I’ll finish it, regardless. It’s up to you whether or not your name is on the paper.” Taking out the assignment I already have done and printed out, I lay them in front of him. Crew grabs them, looks me right in the eye and rips it in half. I clench my teeth so hard that they’re going to break at this rate. My fists form tight balls, begging to hit him. Through my blurry vision, I seethe. The seconds on the clock tick by. It’s fine. It’s not like I spent hours of this week working on that assignment, only for him to rip it apart. I’ll print out another one. The bell rings and I hurry to go find River.