Page 16 of Nocturne

“I think it is time you reconsider the therapist idea,” Ivy suggests, her face filled with concern.

“And tell them what exactly?” I lean back in my chair.

“You know you don’t have to tell them the whole story right?” she rolls her eyes at me, knowing I won’t do it.

“I don’t see a point wasting my time and money if I don’t get into the full details of the trauma. And I cannot do that because any therapist would either admit me into an asylum or go running for the hills.” I conclude, opening my sandwich.

“How did the interview go?” I divert the topic.

Ivy notices but doesn’t comment on it.

“Well, I thought it went well. But it could’ve also gone to shit. I couldn’t say with the way nothing changed in her expression.”

I laugh lightly at that, knowing that she would be selected. Dr. Mariam cannot find a better replacement after she retires in two years or a better TA than Ivy.

I bite into my sandwich, keeping my eyes on her face as I ask her my next question.

“I still do not know why you quit being a reporter.”

She was offered the position of an assistant professor at the same time as me in investigative journalism, which she turned down because her passion was different.

Which seems to have changed in a week. A week of her eyes always glazed over in fear. A week of unruly thoughts keeping her awake, giving her nightmares she couldn’t talk about. Ivy’s eyes harden as she stares down at her half-empty glass, contemplating.

“I’m brave, but not a fool. That night changed everything, Ara. It gave me a fear that outweighs my thirst for the world’s secrets.”

I nod, understanding what she means. No one remains the same after seeing what we did. It tilts one’s world upside down. After being given clear proof that we exist with men who kill as easily as we discard clothes, it isn’t easy to digest the fact that we have met and left unscathed from the clutches of grim reapers.

“You’ll get the job.” I pat her hand reassuringly with a smile.

“Hope so,” she crosses her fingers as I look at my watch.

“It’s time for my class.” I sigh and gather my things.

Ivy waves me bye as I grab my coat and sandwich. I walk out of the university cafe, with my things in my hand. Just outside the door, I start to push one of my hands into the coat when I feel it. The unmistakable prickle of someone’s attention at the back of my neck. This has been the case all week. The incessant prick of someone’s stare on me while I’m at the University. Am I imagining it?

I hurriedly make my way to the East Wing, trying to ignore the gooseflesh that pops up all over my body. I step inside my classroom, trying to mask my apprehension by taking a bite of my sandwich.

Maybe it is the hyper-aware senses that I have developed ever since my escape. The moment I step into the room, I smell the unmistakable scent of Oud, leather, and richness of cigars. I’m not usually a fan of tobacco, but the woodsy notes that linger around mix well with the Oud, concocting an alluring combination that halts me in my steps for half a second before I continue to walk.

I try my best not to look at the back of my class. The area where no one sits and no one cares to turn on the lights. The seats which might have a dangerous man sitting on them, grilling the side of my face with his sizzling attention which has my hands shaking slightly. I try my darnedest not to turn but fail. I end up looking at the farthest seats, trying to find any shift in the shadows.

A man that large should be easy to spot. A man with an aura like him shouldn’t be able to mask himself this easily. It is a wonder how anyone other than me does not feel his presence in this room.

My eyes catch a slight shift in the shadows. A barely there movement, but a movement nonetheless. I know it is deliberate because this is the only time he has even cared enough to move or do it in a manner that is visible to me. I know that if he wants to, he can stay hidden as long as he wants to.

I turn away, fear crawling into my veins at the confirmation of his presence. If he was here, what was it I felt before? I shake my head, ridding myself of my paranoia.

I resist the urge to look into the shadows. I have no idea what he wants from me. I do not have a clue about why he is here, in almost all my classes, sitting in the shadows and observing. What does he wish to see? Whether or not I’d snitch? Is it not evident that I’m not a fool?

Ivy and I hadn’t even made a peep about the nightmarish incident and had done our best to remove ourselves from any situation that might lead to questions. Ivy has bloody quit her job when her boss started asking too many questions and I barely make it out of bed every morning, fearing that today might be the day they decide to kill us.

I turn to Ray—my TA—who stands ready with the papers for today’s quiz. I nod at her and she hands over the papers to my students, instructing them to pass them to the ones behind. I flop into my chair, biting into the bread that is tasteless now. I just need to do something with these shaky hands.

“You have an hour,” I murmur, not sure if my voice reaches them all.

Ray throws a wary glance at me, but other than that says nothing. She does her job invigilating while I open a book of my own. The words barely register, but I force myself to concentrate.

I will not let him affect my life more than he already is. He needs to understand that I am not a fool who would snitch about the man this dangerous.

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