The Unfortunate Happenings of Jonathan Smith

I wasn't always like this. I used to be a socially awkward Graduate student, who was specializing in Pathology and Anatomy. I occasionally dabbled in some physics, mainly Electrostatics, and Genetics. Oh, and did I forget to mention that I'm a self-taught Mortician? The latter led to my demise. So now, I'm sitting in Waverly Hills Sanitarium across from a paranoid schizophrenic named Jeremy. Now, how did an aspiring female scientist fail out of Yale's prestigious Medical School? Let me start from the beginning, and let me add that it was all a misunderstanding. I don't hear voices in my head that tell me to go to the grocery store naked. I didn't stab my cousin at a family get together because he took the last hard roll. I'm not like the others. I don't deserve to be here. My story's different.

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"Your Medical Doctoral Thesis will be due by the end of this month. Remember, it's not mandatory, but recommended, to bring in an example or your own personal experiment to back up your paper and your findings. So we should be finishing up by now and making your last minute corrections so it's perfect. Come on people, you've had all year! Do not disappoint me!" Professor Nathan called to myself and classmates as they got up to leave the room. "Oh, Miss Tate? Can you stay after for a second?" I pushed my glasses up my nose and slowly got up from my seat. I picked my backpack up and slipped my laptop and five subject notebook inside. I walked to the front of the room, "Yes, Professor?"

"I had a question regarding your thesis paper." Professor Marx said as he turned around from behind his desk. "And that is?" I said as I rocked back and forth on my heels. "I know your topic has to do with regenerating life...but I'm interested as to what you're bringing in for your experiment, if you chose to do one."

"I did - well, I am planning on doing one..."

I could feel the back of my neck start to burn, as if I was standing outside at noon in the middle of July. Marx stopped what he was doing and cried out, "What do you mean you're planning on doing one? Haven't you already started?"

"I mean, I've been bouncing ideas around but I haven't actually picked one yet. But I must get going, I have a shift at Blue State Coffee in 10 minutes. I promise, I won't disappoint you!" I said as I slipped out of the lecture hall.

I have no idea what I'm doing for this project, I thought to myself as I booked it down the hallway. I threw myself into the door, almost hitting peers. "Sorry!" I shouted to them as I ran across Old Campus towards the student busses. Oh crap. "Wait! Wait!" I yelled. I'm pretty sure I looked like a bird with my arms flapping around, trying to catch the driver's attention. The only attention I knew I had successfully gotten was everyone's on campus. The bus screeched to a stop and the door slowly opened. I stepped on and thanked the driver, while huffing and puffing. I chose a seat in the back, away from everyone. As I closed my eyes and attempted to calm my breathing, I heard the seat to my right become occupied. "I know you. You're Miranda Tate." Oh great. I opened my eyes slowly and turned to look at this person who supposedly knew my life story. My dark blue eyes met black ones. Well, not black, an almost dark chocolate color. "And you are?" I said turning back to face the front. "I'm Charlie Mason." He said sticking out his hand. I ignored it. "Well, Charlie. I don't know you, and it just so happens to be my stop. I would say it was nice meeting you, but it wasn't. Goodbye." I jumped up from my seat and scrambled to escape the suddenly too small contraption called a bus.

I was only 10 minutes late, and for me that isn't all that bad. Tuesday tend to be their slowest night, so I read my newest library selection: Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. I kept getting distracted thinking about that Charlie guy. Something about him seemed...off. I live with my mother in a one-story house. You could barely call it a house, the only thing that made it a one was the fact that we lived there. Realizing it was almost 11:00 and the late night busses didn't run by my place, I cursed loudly to myself. I tried to think of the fastest way to get home. Oh! Right, through the cemetery. Great.