| What
you want to believe
Sarah
sighed, and looked out her dorm room window. It was Friday, 11:20
in the morning. Her roommate had already left for the weekend,
going back home to visit her boyfriend. Whatever.
Wow,
she thought with a shake of her head, it was only a week into the
first semester and her roommate already seemed like a homebody.
At least it would give her plenty of time to herself over the weekends.
Sarah
was entering her second year of study at NYU in theater, and had
opted to stay in the dorms for a second year. Her plans at moving
into an apartment with her mother were shattered when she had passed
away last year in a plane crash. Just thinking about it now nearly
brought tears to her eyes, not of sadness, but of an angry bitter
sorrowfulness that ate away at her each day. It wasn’t fair. But
then she had learned a long time ago, that little was. She learned
it somewhere, from someone, but the lesson seemed to blur before
her eyes.
Damn
it! She thought, why is it every time I almost have my feet on the
ground and I think things are going to turn right side up, something
happens. Always something. When I got accepted here, Karen made
sure that my father would offer very little help, relying on the
“Our son’s future needs to come first.” And he had agreed. My father
agreed.
Sarah
sighed, it was an argument she relived a thousand times in her mind
and each time the end result was the same – Karen won, and she was
left behind to suffer the divorce that had ripped apart her childhood
all over again. It didn’t help that every time they fought, Karen
relied on fact that Sarah reminded her father so much of her mother
– a dark haired beauty with a fiery temper, where as Karen was just
the opposite; a doughty pouty blonde who used guilt to get her way.
Whenever they fought, that was Karen’s ace of spades. Yet despite
all of that, Sarah never held anything against her brother, Toby.
She loved him more than anyone else. There was something that had
made their relationship stronger, something she knew happened, but
could never quite recall….Something that always knitted at the edge
of her thoughts, just out of reach…a name, maybe…his name…..a wish….a
wish to…..
A
knock at her door jarred Sarah from her thoughts.
“You
goin’ to class or you blowin out with the rest of us?” came the
joshing question from Liz, her neighbor of two doors down. Sarah
had met Liz last year from the same dorm floor and the two had grown
close. At least as close as Sarah would anyone come.
“Huh?”
Sarah asked, not really having heard the question. She had been
so close to remembering. Of course it didn’t matter, it was probably
all some silly daydream, a concoction carried with her through her
turbulent adolescence.
“Are
you going to make class or not? It starts in ten and is across
campus. The rest of us, well, me, Kelly, JT, and Travis, are going
to take off for upstate for the weekend. Daddy has a place we can
stay at. Travis asked if you wanted come, but I said you may want
to catch class and……” Liz rambled on for a while, and Sarah’s eyes
were drawn back out the window, to the rain which had begun to fall
gently. A wish. Stupid. “So?”
“Huh?
What? Oh, um no, I really should get to this class, I liked the
Wednesday lecture and the prof said something about missing Fridays.
Plus, you know me, can’t miss class. Besides, it’s the first week
of classes, and well, it just isn’t me.” It was the truth plain
and simple. The professor didn’t like class skippers and took attendance,
and it was looking to be her favorite course of the semester. Not
to mention the fact that Sarah was paying her way though with scholarships
and loans and a very part-time job and her GPA couldn’t slip or
she would lose it all.
“You
sure? Trav is gonna be total disappointed. Just between you and
me, I think he likes you.” Liz winked and waited for Sarah to reply.
When she saw Sarah reach for her backpack she piped up “Okay, your
loss, talk to you when we get back. But don’t be too mad if Trav
and I have a bit of fun!” She smiled a warm smile and walked up
to Sarah “Hey, just teasin, let me know if you feel like hangin
some time. You, uh, doin alright?”
“Yeah,
I just can’t seem to shake this old…..You know when you try to remember
a dream and….nevermind. Let’s get together when you get back. Thanks
for the invite. I gotta run to class. Have a great weekend.”
With that, Liz turned and left bouncing down the hall yelling “Let’s
Go!” all the way. Sarah just smiled.
She
finished popping her stuff into her bag and got ready to hike across
campus. Oh well, she would be late, but at least she would make
it. As she closed the door, a familiar scent wafted through the
air, it was almost intoxicating, but she couldn’t place it. She
stood dazed staring at her door for more than a minute, allowing
the soothing and sensual odor to envelop her. Looking down at her
watch was the only thing that snapped her out of it. 11:35 – class
had started five minutes ago!
“Crap!”
she yelled through clenched teeth, and took off running down the
hall, her bag resting by her dorm room door.
By
the time Sarah reached the hall, she was soaked, missing her bag,
and extremely tired. She walked into the hall, the rubber soles
of her boots squeaking on the linoleum. She reached the lecture
room and slid into the row of seats closest to the door. She was
only fifteen minutes late, so she would catch most of the lecture
and write down the important highlights from memory when she got
back. Already it was going to be a long weekend.
The
prof looked right at Sarah as he begun to speak. She felt the size
of an acorn. “For those of you just joining us,” a couple of students
turned back to see the drenched Sarah sitting in the last row.
She simply sighed and shook her head, looked back up and offered
a sheepish smile. “perhaps you can join the discussion. As per
the title of the course, we were beginning to look at the psychology
of fantasy. What drives a person to create an alternate reality,
one of adventure, or romance, or of mystery? You see, history is
full of examples of individuals creating realities in which they
are the hero, they are adored, and all of these fantasies serve
only one purpose, to delude the mind. For example, was Joan of
Arc really a hero, or did she create an alternate reality, one in
which an Angel spoke with her……”
The
professor continued to talk, on and on, about how fantasies were
nothing, were delusions of the mind, and held no basis in reality.
Something inside of her screamed that this was wrong, how could
that be? How could having a fantasy be a sign of some mental illness
or how was it possible that there was no such thing as a dream come
true?
“In
conclusion, I would like you all to read chapters six and eight
of the text, outlining Freud and Horning’s theories of fantasy development
and interpretation in the sexual and mental realms of the female
psyche. Yes.”
Before
she had known it, Sarah’s hand had shot up into the air. “Yes,
um, why is it that you seem to, um, generalize all fantasies as
negative or having no base in reality. Isn’t it possible there
is something out there besides the tangible of this world? I mean,
not the tangible, but outside our senses or outside our belief system?
Really?”
The
professor looked sincerely annoyed and began to walk up the aisle
towards her. “Ms.?”
“Williams.”
Sarah replied looking him directly in the eyes and not backing down.
“Do
you believe in fairies, demons, things of that nature?”
“I
don’t see the relevance….”
“Goblins,
perhaps?”
At
that word, Sarah froze and stared into his eyes. They were cold
and devoid of imagination. Everything to this man was stark – black
or white. He would never wish upon a star, let alone for… for anything
else. “And if I did, would I therefore be considered delusional?
In need of psychiatric help?”
“Ms.
Williams, I did not say that fantasies were a sign of schizophrenic
behavior, only that indulging in them, believing them to be reality,
would be cause to consider an individual in need of attention.
It is when one gives into the fantasy that they lose base with reality.
Do you know the difference between the two? Reality is tangible,
harsh, painful, it tests your emotions and forces you to feel.”
He turned on his heal and began to walk back towards the front of
the auditorium. “You would do best to learn to distinguish between
what is truth and what you want to believe. Class dismissed.”
Sarah
was fuming. Had she not heard him right? Was he changing his words?
Fine, whatever, I need to get back to the room before *boom*. Thunder
rolled outside, and down came the rain. Great. Fantastic, could
the day get any better?
It
was 12:45 when Sarah left. It was nearly 1:30 when she made it
back to the dorm, drenched. She opened the door and walked, dripping,
up to the front desk.
“Mail
for room 854?” She asked the girl on duty.
She
looked at the sopping Sarah “Geez, ever heard of an umbrella? You
are getting water everywhere.” With a disgruntled huff, she disappeared
into the back room. A moment later she reappeared with a few letters,
a small brown package, and a magazine. “Here. Next time try not
to make such a mess. You know, I am gonna have to…..” She kept
talking as Sarah walked down the hall to the elevator, her voice
growing in volume so Sarah would hear it… “clean this up and it
really is impolite to walk away when someone is talking to you!!!”
Sarah just smiled to herself, this was not her day.
Back
on her floor, Sarah picked up her bag, which was sitting outside
her room, opened the door, and peeled off her drenched clothes.
Someone must have been burning incense in the room next door, because
everything smelled sweet, almost sticky, like a fruit of some kind.
It was a pleasant smell and as Sarah crawled into her bathrobe and
got ready for a shower, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.
Again, the memories that hung just outside of reach played at her
mind. She saw Toby, felt danger, and there was something else,
a longing, a feeling of something more, fear mixed with passion…..She
shook her head and cleared her thoughts – this had to stop.
Sarah
closed the door behind her and headed down the hall to the shower.
The floor was nearly empty, it seemed everyone had left for the
weekend. Okay, she thought, a long hot shower, and then a short
nap, then off to the Den for a drink and a good book. Not much
for a Friday night, but then Sarah hadn’t had a date in months,
and liked it that way. The men around here just didn’t interest
her. And when her mother had died, her then boyfriend of six months
had bailed, saying he couldn’t be in a relationship where the other
partner needed so much attention – he just wasn’t good at being
consoling – it isn’t you Sarah, it’s me – jerk. Whatever, that
was in the past. It seemed every guy she had been with from then
on was only interested in how pretty she was and how quickly they
could get it on.
Sarah
let out a halfhearted laugh. It wasn’t even that Jake had been
that great of a guy, they had been together for six months, that
was true, but she maybe saw him all of two of those months. He
was obsessed with his art and there was just no room in his life
for her. He made that all too clear. Real life was nothing like
a fairy tale or fantasy, maybe her professor was right, that if
you start to believe in what can never be, there is something wrong
with you. Still, a part of her did believe in fairies. Unconsciously,
she looked at her finger, and began sucking on the tip, as if she
had just been bitten. |
