Castles in the Sand (Stephen Colbert)

Chapter 1

I had always been a loner. Reaching out to others was not my forte, and on the occasions I had I'd found the vulnerability that followed.. uncomfortable. When you make connections with people they expect things from you. Openness, communication, trust. That was a lot for me to give, so I avoided the whole damn mess and just kept to myself.

The problem with loneliness was the lack of outlet for anything that I felt. Having no one to turn to meant everything became internalized. My successes and failures, joy, suffering. Every tumultuous life event joined the others in that little disheveled box I kept inside, even as it threatened to burst at the seams.

I was home in my shitty studio apartment, made shittier by the fact I hadn't lifted a finger to clean it in weeks. Around me was dark, the curtains that covered the windows were heavy and thick, and lately I'd always kept them drawn. I could no longer tell whether it was night or day, and I didn't care unless I had somewhere specific to be. My eyes were glued to the stimulating glow of my monitor, I was staring blankly at nothing in particular but continued to trawl websites nonetheless. A moth throwing itself to fruitless end at a false idol. It was meditative in a sense, a method to quell the rising negative feelings that billowed and fought for control of my thoughts and actions. I had a sense that this method of escapism was increasingly becoming less effective. My legs fidgeted with an abundance of frustrated energy, and I suddenly felt like the walls were too close. It was claustrophobic, I had to get out.

The streets were a glistening mess of puddles and unnatural reflected light; that it had been raining certainly fit my mood. With no destination in mind I began to walk, checking my phone as I went. It was early Sunday evening and I realized with a pang of anxious discomfort that I started my new job tomorrow.

"Goddamn it." I muttered to myself.

I hated the feeling. That twisting in my gut and then the overwhelming urge to lock myself away, turn everything off and pretend the world didn't exist until I was forgotten. I looked up from my phone to find I'd walked several blocks, and across the street was the liquor store I frequented. Something to take the edge off would probably be a good idea. I wandered through the isles, wine drunk wasn't what I was looking for, not this time at least. My hand hovered over a cheap bottle of rum, I enjoyed it but – knowing I never recovered well the following day – grabbed vodka from the next shelf instead.

Why I chose to go into teaching was a mystery to me. There wasn't a worse profession for someone with a personality like mine, except maybe retail or hospitality; both of which I had suffered through during college. It never got any easier either, "It's just first day jitters." I was always told, I wondered how many other people had first day jitters five years into the same job. Still, over time I would find myself in a position where I was comfortably uncomfortable, caught between the crippling anxiety of where I was and the terror of starting over somewhere new.

With little recollection of the walk itself, I was back in my dingy apartment. I kicked off my shoes and lay down on my bed, vodka in hand; twisting the cap off, I took a contemplative swig. The fear that gripped me the day I'd been let go from my previous job was so intense I thought it might physically crush me. I knew what I would have to do and I didn't want to do it. The searching, the interviews, the rejection. Even though it was highly unlikely, I had hoped that I could have just stayed in the same job until it was time to retire, or I was dead, which ever came first.

My head swam and the knot in my gut loosened. Finally, this was what I needed. I could feel the pull of a fitful drunken sleep tugging at my body, and took a final mouthful of vodka before funneling the rest into a hip flask. The all-important "first day jitters" stash.

I awoke early the next morning to the sound of my alarm, groggy but none the worse for wear. I showered, threw on some clean clothes, grabbed my pile of work things and was out the door. It was still early, I didn't start until 8:30am but decided I needed to leave as soon as I could. The longer I hung around my apartment, the higher the chance I wouldn't leave at all.

When I pulled up in the school parking lot it was deserted, but then it was only a little after 6am. I really wanted to go inside and stare at the clock in the staff room until it was time to start. I gathered my books and folders from the passenger seat, maybe someone else was here already.

This was a high school and fairly small. A single, old brick building that didn't cater to more than a couple of hundred students. I cautiously approached the front doors and, to my disappointment, they were chained shut.

"Can I help you?"

A man's voice called from behind me, then I heard his footsteps up the stairs as he approached. My body seized and I battled with myself to even turn around as he met me on the landing. The man appeared to be in his thirties with a slender but fit build, and was only an inch or two taller than me. Square-jawed, with dark brown eyes framed by round glasses, and similarly colored hair, which was neatly parted on the right as I faced him. When he saw the books in my arms he brightened to a smile.

"Oh, you must be our new English teacher! I thought you might have been a parent. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to meet you at the interview." He held out his hand, "I'm Stephen Colbert, Vice Principal and occasional history teacher."

I shuffled the jumble of books into my left arm so that I could greet him in return, imagining how disorganized and anxious I must have looked. "Uh, I'm L-Lana," I mumbled. An English teacher who could barely string a sentence together, quite the first impression I was making. "Lana Woods." I finally managed to speak with a modicum of confidence, pulling myself together enough to shake his proffered hand.

"Well, it's lovely to meet you Miss Woods." He nodded politely and checked his watch before pulling some keys out to unchain the door. "You're here very early." He commented and gave me a quizzical glance as he fiddled with the lock.

I smiled shyly, averting my gaze to look intently at the teaching materials I was carrying, "First day jitters."