Chapter Text
SLAM!
The noise echoed throughout the empty halls, the sound ringing in Duke’s ears. He was infuriated, angry at himself and everything around him.
He hated this place.
It was full of his mistakes, his failures. It was a constant reminder of how useless, how stupid and dense he was. He had wasted so much time, so much effort, all to amount to nothing. How foolish had he had to have been to believe that he’d get anywhere beyond an acceptance letter, anything beyond debts he couldn’t pay and no degree to show for it? How stupid and pathetic would someone have to be to fall for such a dream?
Was that all it ever was? A dream to never be fulfilled, due to his own weakness?
Duke inhaled sharply, in a feeble attempt to steady himself. There was no use getting upset over it now. He had already decided what he was to do.
Moving away from the door he had just slammed shut behind him, Duke glanced across the room with a look of distaste. The Reference Room. How many hours had he spent in here, trying hard to understand what he could not?
He moved forward quietly, casually browning the dusty selection of books. Why had they been left here? Why had the entire school been abandoned, professors possessions and school equipment left behind as it was nothing? Again, another thing Duke would never grasp.
He paused in the philosophy section, staring at the spines until he found something that caught his eye. Some book on the human psyche; not something he understood well but at least something he could appreciate. Flipping open a page, he began to read.
“They say that people despise those that think similarly to them, or who are in similar circumstances.”
Duke snorted. From how he saw it, it was more likely that people just hated anyone who was lesser or better than them; unless you were on equal ground there was always something to win or lose.
“But humans are curious in that they can hide any outward appearance of goodwill or hatred. Though they are two-faced deep down, they can make that idea seem unthinkable.”
“Obviously… Who would think that everyone around them isn’t mocking them behind their back?”
“You may despise someone much like you, but you may in your heart have affection for them. The improbable is not impossible.”
The bang of the book hitting the table echoed through the room, Duke standing rigidly as he glared at the cloud of dust that had formed from the impact. There was no way that he’d ever feel anything but pity for someone going through what he had — what he is going through. Why would you care for someone just as miserable as you? How would that benefit either party? Surely, Duke was no use to anyone, especially at this point in his life…
Turning on his heels, Duke stormed out of the room, his fists clenched as he felt his cheeks burn. He despised thinking about how there may have been some way he could have avoided all of this, or that some way… he could help someone.
As if that was even a possibility. Who would need help from a wreck such as himself?
Duke made his way down the hallways and down staircases, hurrying past locked doors and long-forgotten vending machines and benches. The building was eerie, especially with the quickly setting sun. Duke was definitely not cursing himself for forgetting his flashlight in the car.
Soon, he found himself in the “basement” — it was really just the lowest floor of classrooms students were allowed to go into. The first room's lock was painted over, scratchy and uncomfortable against his fingers. The next room was empty besides tables and a desk, with nothing of meaning left for him. Not like there would be anything, but he was desperately searching and hoping for anything — some small sign that might give him some insight on why he couldn’t graduate. It was pitiful; to be wandering places from years ago in hopes to find reasons and a scrap of something worth living for. Why was he doing this? Who was he trying to please? He should have just stayed home and killed himself there, it would have been —
Leaning against a wall, he pressed his palms against his eyes, quietly counting to ten in meager hopes to stop himself from panicking. His chest was straining against his chest, and it felt as if he was going to vomit at any moment. Going to each of these places was agonizing; every step he took inside seemed to wind him, further breaking down the walls he had forcibly built up. By then end of all of this, he’d be surprised if he didn’t fully break down.
Maybe… maybe writing would help. Probably not, but…
Hands shaking slightly, Duke reached for his notebooks, blinking rapidly in an attempt to remove the blurry dots from his vision. He hadn’t been pressing down that hard, had he?
It didn’t matter.
“Many hopes were fulfilled here.
Many youths were blessed.
But I didn’t receive that blessing.”
“What’s so bad about me?
I was never picked by anyone.
It never made any sense. I loathe those days.”
The tearing of the page cut through the silence, and the angry grunt Duke made as he crumbled and tossed the paper onto the floor signaled his frustration. If any of his teachers or classmates could see him now…
Once he had caught his breath, his chest more of a dull throb than a cracking pulse, he steeled himself and left the lower floor. He was going to leave. He had another stop, and wasn’t going to find anything here.
Unless…
Maybe he had one more place to look.
He walked up another set of stairs, his mind racing. His professor — Andrew? Something Andrew — had been known to keep detailed records of his students' work. So that meant there had to be something for Duke to find. He had to at least see if anything had been left behind.
-
After some wandering and walking into the same room multiple times, Duke found himself somewhere he hadn’t been in many, many years.
One of the computer rooms.
They always took exams here.
Duke never passed them.
His other classmates knew this, and despite being old enough to know better, they still went out of their way to make sure he knew that they knew. Whispering words of mockery, telling him to drop out, calling him a cheater...
Duke sighed, sinking into one of the seats. His head ached; he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten or drank anything since he left his apartment, let alone properly slept even before he left. He just wanted to find this stupid office and then leave; he could sleep in his car and maybe find a store later on. Spending the night here, in a building full of his broken dreams, was one of the last things he wanted. Why couldn’t he have just given up when he had failed the first time? Even the second; at least then he would have had a chance for a better future.
Clicking his pen, Duke pulled out his notebook, flimsily brushing his hair out of his face. It felt greasy.
“I knew there was something I lacked.
But I didn’t want to admit it.
My ambitious youthfulness wouldn’t let me.”
Duke massaged his face, exhaustion hitting him. He really was a stupid, good-for-nothing man.
“I wanted someone to say it.
I wanted to be woken up…
To be told I’m a have-not.”
Tossing the paper into the trash, Duke turned, the voices of his classmates haunting him. He just needed to find the office of his professor and see if he could find anything about his own education. Something that would explain why he failed again and again, no matter how hard he tried.
-
It had taken a while, but Duke had finally managed to find the office area. His memory wasn’t as good as he originally thought, it seemed.
The doors were all locked with codes for reasons Duke couldn’t remember, but he had remembered one thing about them: the code to the room he needed entry to.
144246.
The door swung open, revealing an office almost identical to every other in this school. Duke stepped in, squinting in the darkness, trying to make out where the class documents might be, if they were still here. Not unlikely, considering how much other junk they left behind.
Crossing the room, something caught Duke’s eye - a book lay on Professor Andrew’s desk; it looked like a journal or notebook. It was dusty, and
“Finally done with the finals! I’m glad everyone got their appropriate grades. Of course, there’s that lone D. I teach him so much, but he doesn’t even get the basics. He’s lagging behind everyone else, and yet he’s still so intent on being a lawyer. That nickname ‘D’ stands for ‘Dreamer’. Apparently it was given to him for having such an impossible dream. But if you ask me, it’s for the grade he’ll always get.
I hate how he fawns over me, too. I practically have to act nice to him, and he always comes for lessons after school. I wish I’d never let him in my class. I just hope he gives up on his dream soon and finds another path.”
Duke dropped the book, staring emptily at the open pages.
So that’s how he felt. I thought… I thought he supported me.
Turning around, Duke ran from the room, emotions a mixture of rage and self-hatred. He knew had found what he asked for; another reason to give up on himself.
That was it, wasn’t it?
Wasn’t that what he wanted? Just another reason to justify his end?
He didn’t really want a reason to not kill himself, did he?
It didn’t matter; he was beyond saving.
One more stop.
Then he could go home.