The Inborn

Chapter 24: The Inborn

 

 

 

 

         

Three weeks had passed. Finals were on the way in days to come. Trevor wasn’t nervous one bit. He was more interested in the serious issues. Such as his dealings and David and Jamie. Coming down hard on his schoolwork, it wasn’t until a couple of nights before finals that he saw David again. He saw him outside the school leaving, he was riding the bus. At home he didn’t do much. He wrote a song or two. Well, getting them mostly knocked out. Trevor got on the computer, trolling through the message board like there was no tomorrow. He opened a few profiles to see if he could find some new music. He went to see Diana’s page and ended up crossing the line between lurking and messaging. He left a comment on her page asking to hangout sometime, and some other nice words. He got off of the computer because he felt anxious and somewhat contented with himself. He didn’t want to see a reply right now if she would send one. Putting his brain to work, he completed some study guides to the finals. It was great, really. Senior year was almost complete, and he’d done alright in most classes. He decided to call it a night, but he might do something tomorrow. The next morning was rough. Despite the fact they were going over review questions and giving callbacks with the answers. It became mundane. Class seemed like it would never end. When it did, Trevor didn’t want to get up. He felt sick and upset with his routine. He wasn’t sure he could keep doing this. He was writing interesting things in a notebook. Mostly it came out as something about life as a guy in a decent city, but couldn’t find anyone to talk to, relate to, have sex with, or even work. His dealings concluded with him coming off his ugly struggle with just a part of his parent’s wealth and a light jacket he already owned. The focus was how he lied to get his way into a social circle that was somewhere he just didn’t belong. Parts about rugged dealings… mostly through the communications networks and cell-phones and the likes. They loved what they did, but it was depressing and terrifying. The same formula with subtle improvement, his character had a time with a certain someone and didn’t come off his strides trying to work his way into various non-incumbent non-profit businesses. He felt tense and fraternized every day of his young life and couldn’t find the means to ground himself. He made his marks to doing so, whittling himself in to getting wired in a cycle of daily business with uncertain turnouts, watching the media he could never seem to grasp fully on nights and weekends; and even getting laid. He found himself stuck at the end.

            Trevor’s character went on to something else, staying in his house for long periods and jobs for neighbors and anyone he could get. Trevor stopped in his third period class and contemplated how he would find a true ending. Glancing up at the clock to see there was not much time left in this class. He stared back down at the unfinished last page he’d written. Pleading to end it somehow. So he chose. He chose a drawn out ending, the man looking into himself and said that it didn’t matter what had proceeded every step of his life. He wasn’t insane, a killer, a father, a political entity, or anything monumental. He could potentially be anybody or anything or also nothing. Filing his resignation papers to the job he hadn’t gone back to in months with a magazine distribution company that tried to sell via mail. He locked down his house of his beloved parents love, sweat, and toil he so truthfully stuck to and got in the beat up ford he knew was probably what his mom went to work in everyday before she died of some kind of fever virus. His father much earlier from a car crash that left him with bruised organs, crossing the factory his father worked on the construction of, and heading onward blindly to the east, but still thinking of where to go.

 

Trevor was in fervor, yet fell into blankness in mind. The bell rang and he began looking backwards through the story. Page by page, soaking every part like it was a test. Pushing himself from the desk and putting the notebook away, and beginning to walk out of the room. He still felt empty. Like all had unfurled and there was no more. Like nothing in his life would ever happen. Nothing ever again. Eat, sleep, clean. Maybe light a fire in the fireplace next winter, but that was not reality. No, he knew there was much more to his uneffete place in reality, the understanding of which he may never gain completely. But, no matter, he pushed realizations aside. Resting assured the day would complete itself and he would fall unconscious in the night. Trevor felt rusty in class, maybe because he wrote something fairly intriguing and class was kind-of incomparable. Not that he felt superior to knowledge of it, but being abetted with that it was so.
            He sat far-gone in thought without break. Not sleeping, sitting wide-eyed in the cold hard classrooms. Unfocused on any particular thing as the time passed. Rustling his papers every once in a while. Drowning the teacher’s voice and even his own consciousness for a more palette state of mind. Like his thoughts were laid out in forms of more primal, emotionless directives like sleeping on the ground or doling rocks to throw at animals in a tribe. But, not truly so, not blank like he was earlier, hoping for class to end as something broke his thought process. He removed his hand from the side of his face and set his hands down. The last bell was about to ring and he didn’t care what was going on until it did. He knew most would consider this f*****g up, but Trevor was graduating soon and nothing could keep him from coping mechanisms to ready himself from whatever was to come his way. From Don or otherwise.  He never really had much to go off of. The arguability of this was that he did not have a predicament. For certain and at least he was told, life threatening. Trevor brazened for the ride, it was bland, noticeably so. No changes in brightness through the window. He briskly walked home. Hunting food right after entering, he couldn’t figure out what to make and took a gross amount of time figuring that out. No need for schoolwork, no need for television. No need for overthinking or any other activity. No, he lay down thoughtlessly. Sleeping away till sundown.