Short Story

First Day at University

I shot up into a sitting position. My pajamas stuck to my back because of my sweat and my legs were tangled in the white covers. My alarm was blasting the Imperial March from Star Wars. Today was my first day of University. I had woken up an hour early knowing that I would be nervous. My heart was already beating quickly and I almost couldn't convince myself to get out of bed. I headed over to my closet knowing well that my clothes for today were already prepared. I looked at the skinny jeans and Avengers T-shirt that I had sitting there and remembered how last night I had stressed over the perfect outfit for my first day. My hands shook as I put my clothes on, still unsure of whether I went for the right look with trying to be casual. I got ready brushing my hair and teeth and eating my breakfast, not necessarily in that order, but I did it frantically, yet slowly. As if time had slowed down just so I could do multiple things at once but still at the pace of a snail. Hesitantly, I slipped my feet into a pair of doc martens and heaved my backpack onto my shoulders. 

Locking the door to my dorm room seemed like it was a challenge all in itself. Not for any other reason than I did not wish to let myself be locked away from the beautiful sanctuary that was my room and my bed. Still, I slowly slid my key in the lock as if it physically pained me to do so and turned it, successfully locking the door. Each step away from it caused my heart to pound faster. I now felt the full force of my nervousness descend upon me. Walking to the stairs was difficult, and when I got there, I just stared at them as if they were an alien species that had just told me it had come to Earth because of its fascination with broccoli. In other words, blankly and with confusion. It felt like I forgot how to walk down stairs and I just stared at them. It took about 9 students passing by and giving me strange looks before I took my first step down. My muscles took over and helped me down the rest of the staircase. Each step added weight onto my shoulders and by the time I was at the bottom I was carrying four tons, maybe even more. The walk to my first class was not far, but I still dreaded it. 

Slowly I walked to the coffee shop that was situated along the way, actually perfectly in the middle of my path. Grabbing some peppermint hot chocolate I proceeded to the building in which I would have my first lesson. I tried to rush my walk as I went down the hall looking for room 1026. I got to the end of the hall just to notice that that was room 1039 and that I had walked much too far. I hurried back the way I came, eventually finding room 1026 that I managed to pass 3 times before finding. I walked in noticing I was just the second one there. A surprise with my tendencies for being late. 

The first person was a boy that anyone would classify as a "nerd." He had big round glasses and wore khakis with a white button up and a sweater to finish off his look. He sat in the middle of the front row ready to constantly block the view of whoever had the misfortune of sitting behind him. He had a pencil and notebook already open in front of him, something I wasn't prepared to do. So I sat in the third row in the corner. Close enough so I could see and hear everything, but far enough so that I wouldn't be too noticeable.

 Many people walked in while I waited. Some girls seemed to think that they were supposed to be dressed for a party, others looked like they just climbed out of bed and decided to roll on the ground all the way here and there were some in-betweens like me. The same applied for the guys. Most of these classmates of mine walked in with groups of friends that they probably acquired the night before or during their high school years. I didn't have any of those here. I was not a social person and my roommate fell asleep before I got to our dorm and left before I woke up. I doubt I will be seeing much of her. The chairs slowly filled and soon the clock struck 9:00. I knew the class was supposed to start, but it looked like many of the others were just reaching the height of their conversation. I got scared that maybe I got the wrong memo and ended up in the wrong classroom. 

And then the door opened, like it had done every time one of my classmates walked in, yet differently. In walked a man. He was young, something one could easily tell by his youthful face and lack of glasses. I would guess he was about 27. He sported a black eye on his left side that made his skin look white as if he had become a ghost. On the same side, his hand was held up by a sling that looked like it was not fit to hold up human flesh. He slowly strode to the center of the room, and I had a sudden realization, this was the professor. I had no idea why a teacher would be mistreated in such a way, since in all of my school career I have never seen a student act violently towards his or her guide in academics. Yet here stood this man and obvious portrayal of something going wrong. He took us all in in a silent, commanding presence and said "Hello class. My name is Dr. Parker. And before you ask, yes, my name is Peter." That's when I realized that I was just about to be taught by Spiderman.