Let's Hurt Tonight

7

Amelia

"Amelia, you do realize you have very little time to complete this paper," My advisor, Dr. Waken,  tells me with a frown. 

Currently, I sit in his office, his downturned eyes boring into mine as he disapproves of seemingly all of my life choices. This meeting was supposed to bring me some sense of relief and put me on track to graduate, but all it's been doing is causing me stress. I feel worse now than when I did before I walked through his door.

"It's due in May," I tell him, pointedly. He doesn't respond. "It's October." 

 "Six months isn't a whole lot of time, Amelia, especially when this is the biggest requirement for your major. It's like writing a novel. You need a topic and you need time to develop your story. You should have at least an idea, which you seem to be lacking." 

I sigh heavily. I understand his concern. It's his job to keep me on track and to make sure I'll graduate. I'm sure it's stressful for him to watch me have no clue where to even start this project. However, I have a sneaking suspicion that once I finally narrow down the 'who' in my project, it'll all come into place. 

At least I hope so. 

"Listen," Dr. Waken continues after I don't respond to his last comment. "I won't bother you about it anymore this semester, but I want you to at least have a very rough draft by the start of next semester. Just an outline is fine, it doesn't have to be perfect. I want to make sure you're on the right track after the holidays so that you can begin editing and finalizing it. It's getting submitted to the entire English department and published in our school's newspaper. You know that." 

I nod and smile at the older man. He means well. I'm not so much stressed out over this meeting as I am for my inability to start this project. 

"Thanks, Dr. Waken," I tell him genuinely. "I'll figure it out. I'll carve out some time soon to really analyze and think about it. I'll try to meet with you about it also before the end of the semester."

Dr. Waken and I spend the next couple minutes or so going over my plans for the rest of the semester, as well as briefly discussing my after-college plans. I had toyed with the idea of applying to graduate school, but I'll probably wind up taking a gap year or two so I can save up money. Dr. Waken didn't think it was a terrible idea. He suggested I find a paid internship or some form of work at a publishing company since I'd like to write novels for a living. 

I'm definitely a little tense as I leave my advisor and make my way out of the building. The future is coming up very soon and I need a plan for what I'm going to be doing. I have a very vague idea for the next year, but my five-year plan is absolute trash. I just can't envision what I'll be doing with my life that far out. How can anyone?

As I'm walking home and stressing about the future, I feel my phone buzz uncontrollably in my back pocket. I reach behind me and pull it out, and then answer it without checking to see who's calling.

"Hello?" I say. 

"Hi, love. It's me," the familiar voice of my British friend sounds through the speaker, causing me to smile. I haven't spoken to him in a couple of days and I was beginning to think he forgot about me. 

"Hi, Harry," I reply. 

"I was going to text but I thought calling might be the best option. I hope I caught you at a good time," he explains. "What are you doing right now?" 

I bite my lip as I come to an intersection. Using my free hand, I press the 'walk' button so that I can cross the road.

"I'm just heading home," I tell him. "I just got out of a meeting with my advisor."