Mistake

Skittish

Mitch was a very.... Skittish person.

He always had been, and probably always will. He can't help it, it's not his fault every time there's a loud clap of thunder he practically jumps out of his tan skin. It's not his fault he can't wear headphones in public because he's too scared something will happen and he'll only realize when it's too late. It's not his fault he doesn't sleep very well because every little noise wakes him up. He's a very, very light sleeper and that doesn't mix well with the campus dorm he lives in next to loud, rowdy young adults. It's not his fault. He can't help it, so he doesn't try. He accepts it, and lives with it.

You could say he's paranoid, but he doesn't like to think of it that way. The word is so..... Degrading. It makes him sound weak, and he doesn't like that, even if he is rather small and not a very strong person muscle-wise. He prefers something less de-humanizing, like skittish. His friends don't understand, though he barely has any. But that's okay, he has all he'll ever need in his little homey dorm: his grey, hairless cat, Wyatt, and all the art supplies he could dream of. Not to mention the wifi on the campus was incredible. Lucky for Mitch.

When he decided he wanted to major in Art, he haphazardly applied to many schools without realizing how far away from home they were; he was desperate to get away from home anyway, so when they accepted him to a highly-ranked school all the way in the heart of Seattle he was surprised, but happy non-the-less. He was ready to get out of Texas, to leave all the memories of his childhood he didn't want lingering around behind him. Texas, don't get Mitch wrong, is an amazing state in itself, but not for him. It held too many memories he'd rather not relive, too many things that still haunt him.

So when he packed everything up that he needed, he barely took anything other than fresh art supplies. Everything else he owned reminded him of too much, and he couldn't bare to look at them anymore. Each teddy bear he had smelled a bit too much like his mother; they all had a faint smell of alcohol. Well, it wasn't exactly faint. They reeked of vodka, all the way down to the little stitches holding the furry fabrics together. Each bed spread he ever owned all smelled the same. And so did his clothes, and his furniture, and everything else in that house. He wanted a fresh start, and that's what he got. Seattle was a state of opportunity for him to get away, and it's what he needed. He was able to get out of the little apartment he shared with his mother, and he couldn't have been happier. Now he doesn't fear that his mother will come into his room drunk at night, he doesn't have to worry because she's so far now. His own little home doesn't smell of whiskey. It smells fresh. And Mitch couldn't be happier about it.

The city life excited him, but he barely got out of his dorm unless it was to go to his courses. Though it was exciting in the new world he entered, you know, bright lights and the big city, he was just too skittish to enjoy. The yelling on the streets, the honking of car horns, the bypassing of loud planes overhead... it could get too much at times for Mitch and his persona. But that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy it. He does, and he likes the way he enjoys it better than actually going out. He watched life from his window.

He often peered out his window, often to find it blurred with rain, but he liked that even more. The rain distorts reality, makes it look more like a cartoon rather than real life. The people are morphed into blurry blobs that could belong in a comic book, the buildings only blurry blocks of color. It was Mitch's favorite show. He looked over the wall enclosing the campus, and he watched the city folk bustle about almost every day.

He liked to observe them. He liked to see what the blobs do. He often saw the blobs in a frantic hurry, most with smart technical devices held to their ears, trying to get somewhere as fast as they could. It amused Mitch.