Bloom & Decay
The Spanish teacher's monotonous voice was the only thing that could be heard in the frigid classroom. It was the third week of school and the classroom activities had changed from orientation-friendly that welcomed students back from the winter break to content-heavy. Arthur gave up listening half an hour ago, choosing to focus on his drawing of a butterfly instead of listening to the various conjugations. He was on the last page of his journal, which in his mind was a great accomplishment. Arthur always drew in his art journal anytime he felt anxious or nervous as a way to release any negative energy. The old brown leather back journal contained the whole progress of his art journey. It started as clumsy imitations of drawings he copied from artists on social media but he eventually discovered his style and built on it. As he was focusing on increasing the detail on the wings wanting to make the picture come alive a shadow suddenly was cast over him. His Spanish teacher Mrs. Lopez, an elderly teacher, despite her age, had not been fired as of yet because of her 30-year tenure. Most teachers would not care if you are doing an additional activity in class, as it is not high school, and most if not all students who attend the university are considered legal adults. However, some teachers will and would cause a scene if they found a student not paying attention during class time. Mrs. Lopez can be categorized under the latter category as she stared at his unopened Spanish book and his opened art book. She then quickly grabbed the book off his desk, and as a result of that scattered his stationery supplies on the ground.
“Ah Mr. Pollock, how could I forget that we had an aspiring artist in our class? Perhaps we should add drawing Latin culture to the Spanish 320 curriculum along with verbs and conjugation,” she remarked.
Her tone was a mixture of mirth and sarcasm. Arthur’s face immediately heated up at her mocking words. As a Junior Art major at The University of The Bahamas, he was used to the snide remarks and snarky comments when he mentioned his major, already viewed as a failure by the people around him. However, as this was a way to publically humiliate him he could not help but feel embarrassed. He did not reply to the comment and just placed his head on his folded hands losing all motivation to listen to the rest of the lesson yet not finding the energy to walk out of the classroom. The only reason he took this Spanish class as an elective was so that he could see his crush. Kathleen Hernandez, affectionately called Katie, was a Spanish major who had migrated here from Colombia. She was Afro-Latina who had an irresistible charm to her and an exotic allure. He fell in love with her on the first day of orientation for new students because she showed herself to be very passionate and boasted about her culture. She also captivated his heart by being so animated and overall an infectiously jovial person. Katie once jokingly remarked that her decision to major in Spanish was so that she could get an easy grade, but deep down Arthur can tell that she has a deep adoration and respect for the language. This led to Arthur developing an all-consuming love to a fiery infatuation that constantly threatened to consume him
Since the Spanish classes at the university were not as popular, usually with one section offered per class he can easily be in the same class as her. He had been using this method to try and get to know her since freshman year but so far his efforts seemed to be in vain and the worst part was that after so many Spanish lessons he could barely introduce himself in the language. He peaked from where he was keeping his head down to see if Katie had any reaction to the teacher's sarcastic comment but she seemed to completely ignore the situation. Feeling somewhat relieved Arthur turned his head back down to his folded hands and was just partly listening to the teacher.
The class finally ended with the teacher reminding the students to do an assignment that was placed on the university class portal before midnight that night. Only caring about retrieving his journal he waited until the class was empty when it was just him and the lecturer. When the last student exited the classroom he reluctantly walked up to the lecturer's desk knowing he had to get his journal back.
“Mr. Pollock, I understand that art is a passion of yours, but this is a Spanish classroom, so I expect you to pay attention to the lecture, not your little minor art project. People pay a lot of money to attend university and you are mocking their efforts by not taking this seriously,” she said.
She continued ranting on and on about how Spanish is a very special language and how it should be treated with respect. Arthur replied half-heartedly at certain parts when it was deemed necessary, not caring about what she said as he did not have any particularly strong feelings for the language. Finally, at the end of her long unnecessary lecture, she relented and gave Arthur back his journal. Because he did not have any more classes for the rest of the day he left campus and decided to calm his annoyance by walking around town.
Walking around the local area did nothing to lessen his anger so he decided to walk even further. Before he knew it he realized that he had traveled a great distance from the University and to make matters worse he could hear the sounds of thunder from a distance. It was the sound of an impending rain storm and he was without his umbrella so he took shelter under a nearby shop awning as soon as he felt a few raindrops. The rain then came down harshly and he could tell by the look of the billowing grey clouds that it would be raining for a while. Realizing that he was too far from home to walk in this bad weather, he decided to walk into the store whose awning he was under and pass the time by looking around. The store named Books N’ Tings looked to be an antique thrift store. Arthur had been all over New Providence as this was the island he was born and raised. The island was really small only 21 x7 so he pretty much knew all the shops on the island and every business establishment on the island. However, this was the first time he had heard of or even seen this shop. The little bell at the top of the door tinkled as he pushed open the wooden door letting anyone that was inside know that he was entering. He entered the small establishment and it was as if he had traveled back to the 1990s. The store seemed to lack any electronic appliances that seemed to be prevalent in every modern-day shop in 2023. The first thing he noticed when he entered was the smell of old leather and musty books. It was weirdly off-putting but somewhat comforting, it made him feel weirdly nostalgic. Sitting by the cash register seemed to be the only person in the store, it was an elderly lady wearing a traditional African Kaftan. Her eyes were closed as if she was in deep meditation. Choosing to ignore her he looked around the store that seemed to sell anything and everything from vintage Bahamian clothing and accessories, to old maps of The Bahamas, and of course books. It was a cozy store with many fascinating items that had him distracted for a while. After filling his curiosity at looking at all of the unique knick-knacks holding rich Bahamian history he noticed that the rain had stopped. Not wanting to leave and not buy something he decided to look for something to purchase. He was having some difficulty looking for what he wanted but, finally, after a lot of perusing, he went into the back of the store and saw a dusty old box with the words written in all caps in permanent marker ‘DON’T TOUCH’ and ‘BEWARE’ all over the box. Despite the warning, Arthur saw no harm in simply opening the box to view its contents, after taking a quick look back to make sure he was not being watched he took his hand brushed the dust off the top, and carefully opened it. At the very top of the pile was a replica of his old art journal. Except, this journal was black and had white ink on the cover that read, “Miracle Canvas.” Arthur never heard of this brand but he did not mind. He flipped through the pages of the journal staring at the blank pages and endpaper inside the book and noticed that it was in mint condition despite being held in a dusty box. The book did not have a price marked on it so Arthur assumed it was not for sale. Despite this, he wanted this book so he decided to do something extreme. He slid his black backpack off of his back and discreetly zipped it open not wanting to create a lot of noise to draw attention to him and quickly shoved the book in his backpack. To see if he got away with his crime he looked back to the register and saw that the woman's eyes were still closed in meditation. At this point, Arthur’s heart was beating out of his chest and he was taking in deep breaths even though he had not engaged in any extreme physical activity. He quickly stood up and finished zipping his bag up trying not to look suspicious. Not wanting to leave empty-handed he decided to grab a 5-dollar knick-knack that was displayed on the shelf not caring what it was. After grabbing the item he nervously walked up to the cash register. Finally, for the first time since he came into the store she opened her eyes. Her dull grey eyes scanned over him for what felt like a minute. The older lady then reached her hand out and Arthur did not know what this meant until he realized that the lady was silently asking for the item so she could scan it. With the weight of the stolen item in his bag, his backpack felt ten times heavier. It felt like the lady was scanning out the item in slow motion and he was beginning to get worried. Finally, she checked the item out, placed it in a bag, and requested for the amount the item was worth which was five dollars. Already feeling like the anxiety would overflow from his body he snatched the bag threw the Bahamian five-dollar bill on the counter and ran out of the store. He ran down the street and turned the corner a couple of times until the store was out of sight. His body was covered with a thick sheen of sweat and his heart was vibrating in his chest. He could not believe that he had stolen something and managed to seemingly get away with it. Arthur still looked around to see if he was still followed out of the store but it seemed like he was in the clear. As he was walking back home the events replayed in his mind like a movie and he was having a tug of war within himself deciding if what he did was unethical. He tried to justify it in his head but he could not come to terms with the selfishness of his actions. Quickly deciding with himself he stopped walking in the direction of his apartment and turned back in the direction the shop was on. However, when he went on the street he could not find the antique-thrift store anywhere. Thinking he probably made a wrong turn he attempted again to retrace his steps, he could not find the store, just lines upon lines of empty or abandoned businesses that failed to stay open. He even found the awning he used to shelter himself from the rain but still, there was no store but a boarded-up shop that looked like it had not had any human interaction in years. Still feeling a strong conviction in himself to correct his wrong he continued to search for the store but as he kept searching he saw the sun was going down and decided to return home.
It was 7:32 p.m. when he finally came back to his 1 bedroom apartment in Sea Breeze Estates. He threw his bag haphazardly down by the entrance and carried his purchase and brand-new journal with him into his bedroom. Arthur sitting at his writing station that he managed to squeeze into his room finally took the time to examine what he purchased. It was a small figurine of a police officer in a red and white uniform with a pith helmet on a black stand. The officer had a stern look on its face and its hands were behind its back. On the black stand, the miniature officer was standing on the words, ‘You ga catch it’ written in white block letters. It was a saying that he was familiar with that means trouble or consequences are coming your way. This did nothing to calm his nerves after his petty theft and his mind began to overthink about the possible consequences that might happen if his minor crime was exposed. Even though his heater was on and all the windows were closed shut he still felt a chill. To take his mind off of the predicament he found himself in he decided to figure out the first thing he should draw in his new journal. When he opened his journal he saw something inside the cover that he did not see in the store. It looked to be a set of rules on the inside cover of the journal.
Rules for Journal Use (BEWARE OF CONSEQUENCES):
Clarity of Intent- the clearer the image and intent behind the drawing, the more accurate and stable the manifestation will be.
Temporal Limit- objects have a limited time of existence.
Referential Integrity- when drawing an object you must use a reference from real life or another source.
*Consequences/Limitations:
1. Backfire- If the drawing is not clear or too ambiguous, the manifestation might backfire, creating a distorted or corrupted manifestation of the intended item.
2. Energy Drain- After each creation it will lead to the user being physically and/or mentally fatigued. Overexertion could lead to the user losing consciousness.
3. Memory Loss- After each creation the user may experience temporary memory loss.
“May you get everything you wish for.”
There was no logic to these rules, and their implications seemed far from friendly and just further muddled his already confused mind. Just wanting to relax, he ignored the rules for now and just focused on what he wanted his first sketch to be. He wanted his first drawing to be special to represent a new beginning but as he was wracking his mind for new ideas he came up empty. His thought process was then interrupted by a low rumbling that emanated from his stomach. With his last 5 dollars spent on a cheap knick-knack, Arthur found himself in a dire predicament. The meager sum left him unable to purchase food that would stave off the hunger that night. To dip into his reserve funds for other essentials would mean sacrificing necessities vital to his well-being. His only sustenance was a bowl of cereal for the day, so he was beyond famished. Scouring through the barren landscape of his kitchen he opened cabinet doors and was met by a void of emptiness. He then turned his attention to his refrigerator. Opening it, he was again met with disappointment with how empty his fridge was. Just an almost empty bottle of milk that could not even fill up a cup, one slice of American cheese, and a bowl of loose corn. Thankfully it seemed as if his luck had not run out when he managed to find an apple in the bottom compartment.
It was not much but it would at least stave off the gnawing hunger that threatened to consume him. Rinsing off the red fruit at the sink and bringing it back to his room his mind went back to the journal and possible drawing ideas. Glancing down at the fruit in his hand, it was as if a light bulb went on in his brain. His first page does not have to be something complex. Why could it not be the simplicity of sustenance? Having made up his mind he placed the fruit at the center of the desk to use it as reference. Arthur then adjusted his desk lamp lighting to hit it at a good angle and bathe it with a soft glow. With his drawing utensils out he went to work, with lines dancing off the blank canvas. He had been so immersed in his drawing for about five minutes when he felt an otherworldly presence and a subtle shift in the air. A ‘thunk’, then resounded which caused Arthur to look up and he was shocked to see that instead of one apple there were two mirroring each other in every detail.
‘What in the actual fuck,’ Arthur thought closing and rubbing his eyes.
Was this just his sleep-exhaustive mind playing tricks on him or maybe the reflection of the light is causing this?
‘Nope, the apple is still there’, he thought in disbelief.
Thinking it still might be an illusion, Arthur reached out a hesitant hand and tapped the second apple which proved to be real. Realizing that nothing bad happened to him after touching it, he became emboldened and grabbed the fruit. Examining it, it looks just like the apple on the desk and what he had drawn in his book. It even had a dent in the fruit from when he dropped it in the past. Taking another bold step he took a small bite of the fruit crossing an unknown line into a new reality.
The apple exploded with sweetness in his mouth, the flesh firm but refreshing. Each bite of the fruit led to the first steps of the lines between reality and fantasy blurring. Then reality hit, he had just eaten an apple that magically appeared in his room. Arthur was usually more cautious and rational than that but it seemed as if his hunger pangs overpowered him. Still in shock from all the events that occurred he just continued to sit at his writing desk trying to figure out what to do now. It did not take long for all the clues to point back to the book as it was the only logical explanation at the time. Eager but yet nervous to discover more Arthur grabbed the book and opened it up to the rules section that the notebook contained. Taking his time he began to read carefully through the three rules to try and grasp the powers of this journal. Even after reading through it and experiencing the powers of the journal firsthand, Arthur was still in disbelief. There has been no such thing since the creation of the world where there has been something as supernatural as a journal that can bring drawings to life. Even in the year 2024 where technology is at an all-time high, there has been nothing created like or even close to it. Wanting to test out the effects one more time he decided to turn to a new page of the journal and draw something new.
Wanting to draw something a little more complex he wracked his brain on what to draw. His mind then went back to the almost empty milk bottle in his fridge. He quickly went to grab the object and placed it in the center of his desk. Doing a quick sketch of the item, he felt the same strange sensation wash over him, and sure enough, the same milk bottle appeared. It had the same amount of liquid in the bottle, the same milk brand, and the same expiration date. It was completely identical. Arthur being both amazed and horrified by his newfound power quickly shut the journal and placed it in the bottom drawer of his art desk. Deciding he had enough for the day he placed the items back in their respective places in the refrigerator, but not without placing a mark on the doppelganger so that he would not mistakenly consume it. He then changed into his night clothes, set his alarm, and went to bed.
Today was Wednesday, one of the only days out of the whole 5 day week Arthur had a day off of school. As the sun continued to rise signaling the dawn of a new day it was not Arthur’s alarm that woke him up but a rotten stench. Wanting to ignore it for now he turned over in his bed. Five minutes have now gone by and the smell was just getting more intolerable. Not being able to take the stench anymore Arthur opened his eyes and looked around the room to try and find the rotten stench. He searched all over his room but could not find it. With a furrowed brow he then tracked the smell throughout his apartment until he got to his refrigerator. Still somewhat confused, he cautiously opened the fridge door and was immediately blasted with the foul smell of rotten food and decay. His eyes finally landed on the items he put back in the fridge. The apple and milk doppelgangers that he marked with a purple marker were perfectly fine, the original items had become the spoilt grotesque version of themselves. The once firm red apple was now sagging with decay with mold now covering it. Its red hue was now also replaced with a pallor of rot. Beside it, the once-white milk shapeshifted into a ghastly concoction. Its once smooth consistency which was set to expire in three days is now chunky almost solid and had an almost greenish hue to it.
To dispose of each item, he got an old washcloth rag, delicately grabbed each item, and threw it into his garbage container, which had his entire weeks’ worth of rubbish. Not wanting to have it in his house in case something else went awry he took the garbage bag and left it on the curb by the apartment complex where the other tenants leave their trash for the weekly garbage truck to pass by and collect. Now back in his apartment, Arthur was planning his next stage of action. He did not have any classes today and he wanted to spend the day relaxing, but right now that was the furthest thing from his mind. Arthur realized what a dire situation he was in and the apparent consequences of tampering with otherworldly forces beyond his control. His heart beat uncontrollably within his chest both in fear and awe of this newfound power. The sky will not be the limit anymore. He could now make his various drawings and make them a reality. However, something still did not sit right with him. Although nervous, Arthur was hungry to understand and gain more knowledge of his power. He went to his art desk, sat down, turned to a new page, and contemplated what to draw next. Wanting to discover how best to use it he began to focus on the limitations. In the rules section of the journal, it did state that each item drawn had a temporal limit, but it did not state how long the item would continue to exist. His mind then flashed to when he placed his trash by the curb. On the ground by the curb, some pink tulips were growing there due to his landlady planting them there to brighten up the dreary sidewalk. Surely, his landlady would not miss one if he used it for his experiment.
Making up his mind he ventured outside, the wind carrying the scent of spring, and pulled up a tulip from the ground. Cradling the delicate flower he went back into the sanctuary of his apartment. Gently propping it up against the weathered wall by his writing desk he immediately went to work attempting to once again bring his vision to life. With swift strokes of his pen, he transferred the likeness of the tulip on the pristine pages of his writing journal. As he finished the drawing he looked up from his journal anticipation coursing through his veins and sure enough an identical tulip was there on the left side of the original tulip. Now taking a separate spiral notebook he opened it labeling the page ‘Bloom & Decay’, and decided to witness how both flowers would react.
Flower A:
Hour 1- “The original flower that I plucked is very beautiful, the soft petals are vibrant in appearance and the strong stem of the plant is just as glorious. The aroma drifting from the flower is very sweet and overall the perky plant looks quite healthy.”
Hour 2- “The flower has yet to show any signs of decay. However, it seems as if its vibrant color is slowly fading.”
Hour 4- “The plant has begun to show some signs of discoloration over the edges but overall still looked quite beautiful and regal as most tulips do.”
Hour 6- “As the hours tick by I continue to grow disheartened as such a beautiful flower is decaying unnaturally fast and being reduced to something abysmal and ugly. Barely recognizable of its once vibrant self and increasingly becoming frail.”
Hour 8- “I believe the flower has reached its final stage of decay as it is not recognizable to its former self. The soft petals are now discolored, withered, and wrinkled. The strong stem is now sagging unable to upright itself, and a foul stench is now permeating the room.”
Flower B:
Hour 1- “The flower that was born from my notebook, stands beside its twin, mirroring in beauty and splendor. Just like flower A, flower B has soft petals that are vibrant in appearance and a strong stem.”
Hour 2- “Despite it not originating from a seed, flower B continues to match flower A in beauty. I am increasingly mesmerized by how detailed and life-like the flower is.”
Hour 4- “The tulip, despite the passage of time, has shown no sign of aging or deteriorating. It stood proud and pristine, a flawless imitation of life.”
Hour 6- “With each passing hour, unease grips me as it seems as if the tulip is defying time. Going against logic and reason as it showcases its unyielding vitality.”
Hour 8- “The duplicate tulip continued to remain in a state of perpetual perfection. Unlike its living twin, it showed no signs of withering or fading. It remains hauntingly beautiful as it again trespassed over the line between reality and fantasy.”
When Arthur finally documented one tulip's fleeting beauty and the other tulip's seemingly permanent vitality he was beyond mentally exhausted. During the entire process, Arthur never got up from his art station, afraid to miss any new development in the flowers. To deal with the bladder issue, he had an empty 2-liter Coca-Cola bottle on the ground in his room he used it to urinate in it. As for his hunger, he found an old stale mint candy and sucked on that until that was gone. Feeling sticky, tired, and gross he stood up for the first time in 8 hours. As he cracked his bones which had been stationary for a long time and tried to regain blood flow in most parts of his body he felt ridiculously tired. Like unnaturally tired, even though his body felt fine his mind was a mess. His brain felt muddled and his vision was hazy, but he could not choose to focus on that now as he just witnessed something spectacular. Even though he was not 100% sure Arthur had a theory. Lining up with the journal rules, it seemed that whatever he drew as a reference had a time limit. Items that can rot and wither will do so to fade away as the apple and the flower did. It was a shaky theory but it was good enough for now. The time 6:19 p.m. showed up on the clock when he looked at it. His only off day for the entire week he spent looking at a plant slowly die, but Arthur was not angry. His brain kept brimming with new drawing ideas, however, his thought process kept getting dissuaded due to the loud noise of a stray pot cake outside. Those unruly canines are such a nuisance to everyone as they keep the whole complex up with their loud barking at night, and if they are feeling particularly bold they may try to attack the residents when they go outside. A sick but daring idea then popped into his head. What if he drew something alive that had a consciousness, something that was able to feel the effects of his drawing? Thoughts raced around his head, with curiosity and trepidation battling inside of him. However, Arthur’s insatiable curiosity won over him and he decided to test out his newfound power on his new test subject.
He ventured to the window pulled the curtains aside and there he saw it, a medium-sized brown dog barking at something in the darkness. With a shaky hand, he sketched the dog on the blank parchment and waited to see what would happen. Just as expected, a strange sensation washed over him, signaling the manifestation of a newly created life. Soon enough there was a dog next to him that was identical to the one outside. This dog, however, was strange, it did not behave like a regular dog. It did not bark, wag his tail, or show canine mannerisms. Its unmoving form, except for occasional blinking, bore an unsettling resemblance of a statue come to life. Arthur then glanced outside and still saw the dog seemingly not affected. Arthur would have liked to keep watching to see how the dog will eventually react but exhaustion had settled upon him and his body was involuntarily shutting down. His body sagged to the ground, and the last thing he saw before he succumbed to the irresistible pull of sleep was the dog he unnaturally created. Its presence represents a harbinger of mysteries yet to unfold.
Arthur stirred in his slumber due to something wet licking across his face. He tried ignoring it but the licking persisted and soon grew to a point he could not ignore. Disoriented and slightly groggy he got up and looked at what could have woken him up. The dog that he created last night was standing there wagging its tail, tongue hanging out of its mouth. When the dog saw that Arthur was up it began to bark excitedly. A chill went down his spine, this was strange. The almost statue-esque dog that barely interacted yesterday was now behaving like a normal dog. Its eyes alight with newfound vitality that was previously absent before. Fear immediately consumed him and he went to the window to see what became of the original dog. When he scanned the familiar landscape he did not see the dog, so he immediately went outside to see what became of it. He looked around the complex and eventually found it among some tall brush in the back. Its once vibrant spirit quenched in the cold embrace of death. At closer inspection, the brown pot cake did not seem to be sporting any external injuries, but it looked as though a white foamy-like substance was around his mouth and its eyes were clouded over in eternal slumber.
‘What have I done,’ Arthur thought. He just took the life of something so easily and carelessly with just the stroke of his pen. Feeling sick a wave a nauseousness washed over him like a tidal wave and he went back to the apartment where the identical dog happily wagged its tail and barked and welcomed him back in oblivious delight. Arthur not being able to take the guilt anymore vomited up what little he had eaten on the floor. Not wanting to be in the same room as the dog, he ushered the dog outside and closed the door
Sinking onto the floor, the silence of the house almost suffocated him, he began to grapple with the consequences of his actions. He just sat there in silence, staring off into the distance lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts until his alarm blared jolting him from his thoughts. The alarm sound is a raucous parrot that just screams the word ‘Wake up’ over and over again in an endless loop reverberating across the apartment. With a heavy sigh, Arthur lethargically got up and went to get his phone which was on charge by his bed, and shut it off. The clock on his phone read 7:00 a.m. and if he did not get ready fast enough he would miss the 7:30 a.m. bus. So he began the arduous task of brushing his teeth and putting on his clothes.
The 7:30 a.m. bus came around the corner just in time for Arthur to be out there waiting for it. He entered the bus, paid the fare, and took a single seat by the window. His journal which he packed along with his essential school items felt like a lead weight in his bag. As the bus rumbled along its assigned route his mind went back to the body of the pot cake and the doppelganger that seemingly stole its soul and replaced it. Manic energy filled him as he tried to rationalize his actions.
‘I mean it was just a stray dog,’ Arthur thought to himself. ‘One so unloved it didn’t even have a name. I was doing my neighbors and everyone a favor for getting rid of that nuisance. Plus no one’s going to find out that I had a hand in it.’
Doubt continued to gnaw at his consciousness, ‘I didn’t know what was exactly going to happen’, his thoughts continued, ‘I just wanted to see what would happen. It's not my fault. It's not my fault. It's not my fault. ‘
With each repetition, the words in his head grew louder, more fervent. ‘IT’S NOT MY FAULT! IT’S NOT MY FAULT!’ he screamed internally words echoing across the cavern of his mind.
It felt like his morals were slowly being corrupted.
He was finally broken from the reverie of his thoughts due to a piercing cry from an infant that was seated with its mother behind him, its wails cutting the air like a knife. The mother tried to console the distraught infant with soothing words, a poignant reminder of maternal comfort. This made him remember his parents who would always console him when anything bad happened. Being his parent’s only child, they were quite reluctant to have him move out but Arthur wanted to experience a taste of freedom and independence and had managed to persuade them to have him rent an apartment room. Despite his instincts to seek solace from them, he lingered briefly on actually telling them his problem, but he hesitated, not wanting to add to their burdensome load.
‘They might not even believe you,’ a thought whispered in the recesses of his mind.
‘They’ll just think you’re crazy. Even if you showed them, you think that they would believe in a magic journal that would make drawings come to life?’ the voice mockingly remarked.
Arthur shook his head to get rid of the negative thoughts that were starting to plague his mind and consume him like a ravenous fire. The thoughts in his mind raged on but he decided to at least text his parents.
Going into the group chat with both of his parents he sent a simple Good morning text.
Surprisingly his parents answered back quickly with a flurry of text messages, emojis, and positive words. This exchange went back and forth for the whole ride until Arthur noticed that he was getting closer to his school. With a feeling of bitter sweetness, he closed it off by sending an ‘I love you,’ message and his mother's response almost brought him to tears.
“Remember we are just one phone call away if you need to talk. Love you!”
His father sends a characteristically brief response which is a thumbs-up emoji to show his silent yet steadfast support.
Feeling motivated he got up did a quick stretch and maneuvered around the throng of people on the bus.
Usually, during his walks to class, Arthur always scanned his surroundings eager to witness something new that may spark creativity in him. He had made countless drawings that immortalized the different sights he saw when going to class, from a group of students playing dominoes to another group playing volleyball. However, right now the prospect of drawing filled him with a sense of dread, the memory of the unnatural creations he brought to life loomed in his mind. With each passing scene, he found himself recoiling in fear of sparking a bout of artistic fervor, fearful of the consequences that may follow. For the first time, Arthur found himself paralyzed with fear by the one thing that brought him joy, so with a heavy heart and a wary eye he continued on his journey.
When he finally reached the class he pushed open the heavy red metal door and was instantly hit with the cold breeze of the air conditioner and the smell of disinfectant spray. As this is one of the first classes this was not surprising since the cleaning ladies most likely cleaned it each day before the start of the early morning classes. Usually, when Arthur is late to class he tends to feel embarrassed or awkward, but now he can barely find himself to care. The teacher Mrs. Lopez without missing a beat continued with her PowerPoint presentation not even bothering to look in the direction of Arthur. Arthur however, had more pressing issues. Even though it was the midpoint of the semester class seemed to be as full as the first day of school. This was fine as the class had the right amount of seats for the amount of students in the class. The problem resided in the fact that the only remaining seat in class was directly in front of Katie. This had never happened before. Arthur, who is usually, on time for class, usually comes early before the teacher, and always strategically chose a seat that was almost diagonal to Katie. This is so that he can take a peek at her anytime during the lectures and it would not be labeled as creepy. This was a new situation for him. Arthur’s brain which was once muddled was now on high alert working in overdrive. Pausing for a few seconds by the door, he was finally able to command his body to move to take his seat. Once he took his seat Arthur felt hyper-alert to everything and just sat there for a few minutes. Eventually, he decided to take his supplies out, which were his tablet, his writing book, and of course his journal. The journal still gave him a sense of unease but it helped to stave off the boredom of the teacher's monotonous voice. When placing his tablet in the folded resting position he was able to catch a glimpse of Katie through the screen. Coming up with an idea Arthur adjusted his tablet to be able to see Katie’s reflection on the blank screen. Arthur became amazed at her mesmerizing beauty. Katie was a vision of ethereal beauty, a beacon of light that stands out amongst the throng of the faces on campus. Her rich, mahogany-hued locks cascaded gently down her shoulders and perfectly framed her sculpted face. Her eyes are like deep pools of brown expresso that seemed to draw Arthur in like a moth to a flame. From the graceful curve of her neck to the delicate arc of her eyebrows, every aspect of Katie’s appearance was a testament to her innate beauty. Without even realizing it he was subconsciously writing her name in the journal. Thankfully this did not result in a manifestation. It would be disastrous if another Katie suddenly appeared.
‘Another Katie,’ Arthur thought. It was just a passing thought but it soon engulfed him with disgust. The image of the rotten apple flashed in his mind which caused him to put a stop to his idea. Shaking his head to get rid of the idea, Arthur began to for once focus on the lesson, hoping it would wipe out any dangerous thoughts he may have.
The lesson passed and went as normal with no reoccurrences of his thoughts and for once Arthur listened without spacing out. It could be because Katie was sitting behind him may have motivated him. After packing his bag and exiting the classroom he decided to stay on campus since he had another class in another two hours. Ducking and weaving past the students who were going to and from class he was able to go to the library. After securing a study room, he entered the safe confines of it and took out his journal. Unease quickly washed over him, as the journal remained heavy in his hands. With trembling hands, he traced the edges and sides of the journal that had now become almost familiar to him. However, he almost felt overwhelmed with anxiety due to the burden of these pages. The thought of destroying the journal enters his mind like a brief whisper, almost like a fleeting moment of salvation. He could just burn the journal and watch as it becomes nothing but ash. Toying with the idea he had not noticed that someone was standing outside of his study room until he heard knocking.
To his complete surprise, Katie was there. Arthur’s mouth completely went dry but he was able to hold up his hand beckoning her inside.
“Hey, sorry to bother you, but there are no more study rooms available is it cool if we share the room?” Katie asked.
“Um yeah sure, I’ve got no problem with it,” Arthur quickly said moving his stuff off the desk to make space.
“Oh, you are such a lifesaver, Arthur right? Thanks a lot,” Katie said as she plopped down into the only available chair.
“Yeah it's Arthur, and don’t mention it,” Arthur said not looking at her.
After that, it was silent between them. While Katie was quietly working on an assignment on her laptop, Arthur was just stuck sitting there staring into space. He did not know what to do and it was as if his body was paralyzed. The alarm on his phone soon shook him out of his trance-like state alerting him that his next class would be starting in 15 minutes. Finally, getting the willpower to move he gathered his stuff placed it in his bag, and was about to make his escape until Katie stopped him.
“Hey, we should keep in touch. It would be nice if we could be friends,” she said.
Arthur was dumbstruck as he had not expected this. However, trying to play it off, he fumbled for his phone heart pounding in his chest as he gave Katie his Instagram handle, and his phone number. Finally able to leave, he was on cloud nine, and what made it even better was when he received a notification that Katie was now following him on Instagram. Arthur went through all of his classes in a euphoric state, as if he were floating, with the problems of his journal almost forgotten.
His monotonous days have been filled with excitement since being in contact with Katie. Even though, Katie has a lot of friends she always managed to find time to converse with Arthur through text messages. He has also taken to watching Katie’s Instagram page, a virtual window into Katie’s world. He constantly refreshed her page obsessively, to see if she posts anything new so he can be the first to like and comment on it to show it as a testament to his affection. Since joining university for once he can say he has a friend now, and if this goes better maybe it can blossom into something more. Arthur was about to send another text message to Katie when he heard movement outside.
It seems that there was a commotion out front. When Arthur opened his door to discover what was happening he saw that a bunch of his neighbors were out. Wanting to know what happened he decided to ask his next-door neighbor Mrs. Beneby, who was holding her three-year-old grandson.
“Good evening, Mrs. Beneby, hope all is well, do you know what all the commotion is about,” he asked.
“Yes, I’m sure you’ve already noticed but there has become a very foul rotten odor that has spread around the complex. It has become so unbearable that some of the residents decided to track it down, and that is where they found the carcass of a dog in the back,” Mrs. Beneby explained.
At that Arthur froze, he noticed that there was a bad smell, but he chose to ignore it in favor of the fleeting moments of happiness with Katie. Now faced with the gruesome reality his actions have brought, it becomes almost gut-wrenching.
“Yeah man, the state of the dog was wretched, flies were circling the body, and the body had maggots crawling all over it,” she remarked with disgust. “Gave me goosebumps just thinking about it.”
At her words, Arthur's breaths started to come out in short pants, and the weight of the journal came full force back on him. In the corner of his eye, he noticed the dog that he unnaturally created looking at him. It was wagging its tail, and behaving in a dog-like manner not giving a hint that it was a fraud. However, it seemed as if the longer he was looking at the dog, the more its innocent façade began to drop, and something sinister lurked behind its gaze. A shiver ran down his spine and he reluctantly turned his eyes away wanting to leave the situation immediately. However, Mrs. Beneby stopped him.
“Oh wait, Arthur before you go, I wanted to give you something,” Mrs. Beneby quickly went into her house and retrieved a brown plastic bag that contained something. “I know how stressful university can get, especially at this point in the semester so here is a little motivation boost, if you know what I mean,” she stated giving a playful wink.
“Oh wow, thanks Mrs. Beneby, I greatly appreciate this,” he forcefully said.
Taking the plastic he went into his house but not before seeing Mr. Sullivan, the groundskeeper, carrying what looked like to be a heavy-duty white garbage bag that seemed to hold something that was leaking brown liquid. Knowing it could only be the corpse of the dog, he threw up a little in his mouth, went into his house, and shut the door behind him. After taking some deep breaths trying to calm himself down he looked in the bag to see what Mrs. Beneby could have given him. It was a Jack Daniels liquor bottle with a skull on it. Arthur was not a big drinker but he would not let it go to waste. About to put the bottle up his phone dinged with a notification.
It was a notification that signaled that Katie had made a new Instagram post. Wanting to see something that would uplift him out of his sour mood he opened Instagram to view the new post. Unfortunately, the post was anything but sweet, Arthur’s heart sank as he saw the image of Kathleen doing a piece sign with a University of The Bahamas soccer player, his hand around her shoulders. The single red heart in the caption was like a dagger in his heart, destroying any hope that he might have a romantic relationship with her. It was obvious from the picture and the caption that there might be something more to both Kathleen and the soccer player's relationship. His phone slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor and it felt like his whole world was spinning. It felt like a huge hole got torn in his chest where his heart used to be. In a daze, his eyes drifted to the plastic bag that held the Jack Daniel’s bottle. Its contents appear as a tantalizing relief to his agony. Retrieving the bottle, the image of the skull now looked ominous, but it did not dissuade him. Opening it up, he tore open the bottle without hesitation and took a long swig of the liquid that burned a path down his throat. He did this a couple of times and was soon done half way done with the bottle. His pain may have been numbed but he still felt quite vulnerable. He genuinely thought that he and Katie were going to have a romantic relationship with each other, but his fantasy has now been shattered. His emotions have finally reached a breaking point and tears spilled from his eyes. He loudly sobbed, a symphony of despair and heartbreak, until there was nothing left in him. Finally, after all his tears had been shed, he was left feeling empty. Amid his pain, still slightly drunk, his eyes landed on the journal on the dining room table.
Arthur's head clouded with reckless desperation as the numbness of the liquor flooded over him. Reaching for the journal with trembling hands, the pages whispered promises of power and freedom. He switched open the page to a blank page and, desperation igniting in him, drew with an intensity befitting a desperate person. Beneath his quivering fingertips, the image of Katie appeared, her features engraved with a desperate intensity onto the page.
However, while he worked, the lines danced and became hazy, taking away his focus and control due to the alcohol. He tried to stay upright as his vision swirled, the boundaries of reality blurring into a foggy mist.
And suddenly, as the world whirled around him, Arthur finished the drawing with a last flourish, his hand dropping limp to his side. He let out a deep breath and leaned forward, losing his grip on the journal as the blackness enveloped him.
At that point, Arthur gave in to sleep, his dreams plagued by the spectral vision of Katie a quiet reminder of the love he would never have haunting him. The journal was left open next to him as he fell asleep, its pages whispering mysteries that would not be revealed to him until daylight.
The sun beaming down on his face from the window woke him up. Arthur groggily got up, disoriented from his already splitting headache. His face was sticky from all the crying he did yesterday, and his body felt stiff from his uncomfortable sleeping position. He slowly got up trying to remember what happened yesterday that led him to this. His eyes were still somewhat closed as he was still in deep thought until he heard a noise to the side of him. Feeling startled he looked to his left and Kathleen was sitting right next to him. His memory gaps were immediately filled and his lethargies immediately left his body. Arthur recoiled and moved away from his latest creation in fear.
The new Katie unmoved by his distress remained eerily silent. She does not seem to react at all, just seemingly sitting there on folded knees observing Arthur’s reactions. Arthur’s head began to hurt and this time it was for a different reason. He takes deep breaths to try and calm himself down, to try and figure out a way out of this situation. It would do no good if he just suddenly began panicking. Taking his past experiences, he can deduce that his creation was just in the beginning stages, a blank slate. It was merely a hollow shell waiting to be filled with the essence of the real Katie. This means he has a few more hours to get rid of this abomination before it fully assimilates and takes the real Katie’s place. Racking his brain on what to do with it, he belatedly relies that this Katie was naked. Feeling uncomfortable, Arthur gave the clone some of his clothes which were just The University of The Bahamas blue Mingoes shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. The clone although non-verbal understood what Arthur meant and put the clothes on itself. Now with the clothes on, Arthur can take a better look at the clone. At first glance, Katie and the clone might look the same but this thing in front of him was not Katie. There was an undeniable sense of wrongness emanating from the creature before him. It’s attempt to smile only deepened his unease. Shivering with disgust Arthur looks away. He needs to act fast, the longer this thing lives the longer it is siphoning off the real Katie’s soul to take as its own. Then a daring idea, entered his mind, ‘Why don’t I just kill it? I mean it’s not human,’ he thought. ‘I will make it quick and easy. Plus I would be saving the real Katie’s life in the process.’
Making up his mind, he walked to the kitchen grabbed a knife, and walked back to the living room, where the doppelganger was still sitting there with a frozen smile. Arthur walked up to it and pushed the clone so it would be leaning back. Using one hand, he used it to cover up the clone's soulless eyes so he would not look into its eyes when he ultimately took its life. With a shaky hand, he brought the knife up to the clone’s throat ready to slice until he heard a door knock.
It was such an odd hour for someone to be knocking on his door, it was just the wee hours of the morning. Arthur was planning to ignore it, but the knocking grew more insistent. Sighing deeply, he dropped the knife and took the clone to his room to hide it. Finally reaching the door, he was met with the stern face of his landlady Mrs. Hamilton. She mostly never interacts with him, because she does not need to. He pays his rent on time, and he is never a nuisance to the other tenants, so why does she have to come and bother him? The elderly woman who did not look pleased, somehow found out that he was the one to pick one of her precious tulips. She made Arthur come to the side of the building where the flowers grew and stressed how important it was to leave such a precious flower untouched. This frustrated Arthur to no end, he could care less for the stupid flower, but to remain in his landlady's good graces he decided to stand there and humor her. After five minutes of nonsensical prattling, he was finally able to leave. Returning to his apartment he noticed something was not right. The door to his bedroom, which he knew he closed was wide open. The kitchen knife was also missing. Panic immediately filled Arthur, as he desperately searched throughout his place to find Katie’s doppelganger. Accepting the fact that she may have gone outside, he again exited his apartment. There he saw Mrs. Beneby sitting outdoors rocking the three-year-old as they sat in the cool of the morning. Desperate, he asked Mrs. Beneby whether she had seen a girl in a blue shirt and black pants around here. Mrs. Beneby exclaimed that she had, and saw her walking down the street away from the apartment complex. She tried to make some jokes about him having a girl over, but he was not in the mood. Katie’s doppelganger has just disappeared to God knows where and he does not know where to look.
Pacing back and forth in front of his apartment, his mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more urgent than the last. Then he remembered, that today was Thursday, meaning that the 8 am Spanish class would be held. Knowing immediately where the clone went, he grabbed his backpack with his essentials including his journal, and booked it for the university. He has never run so far and so fast in a short time, his lungs burning with the effort of his frantic pace. When he reached on campus he was wildly looking around trying to spot the doppelganger, which earned him a few curious looks. He finally spotted Katie entering the girl's bathroom in F-block and followed quickly behind her.
Stealthily stalking her as if she was prey he quietly snuck up on her. Sure enough, Katie was in a blue Mingoes shirt and black sweats. Knowing she probably had a weapon this solidified his decision and he acted quickly. When she was distracted by the sink he came up behind her, and violently pulled her hair. Before she could scream out he placed a hand over her mouth and dragged them into an open stall, shutting the door behind him he continued his attack. He was trying to make this as quiet as possible so as not to draw attention to themselves so he chose to strangle her. Wrapping his hands around her throat he squeezed hard. This Katie still tried to fight him off by kicking and scratching him but this proved futile. The method proved to be long and slow as Katie refused to give up without a fight. Looking down Arthur saw the open toilet bowl and shoved Katie’s face in it until it was completely submerged. So now, holding her head down and keeping her face under the water, bubbles erupted from the toilet as she desperately fought for breath. She was left to try and grasp anything to try and get her up, while Arthur continued to hold her head down. This slowly died down and her body went limp, and the bubbles stopped coming up. Arthur still held her face down for five more minutes until he was sure she was dead. Taking a deep breath he took a step back and allowed Katie’s body to go slack. He has just taken a life, but it was necessary. It was for the greater good, it was for the real Katie’s sake. He was the good guy. ‘This thing’, he thought then kicked the body was not even human. Deciding on what to do with the body, he heard the bathroom door open that he had sworn he had locked when he came in.
Thinking it may be the cleaning ladies, he exited the stall to try and explain why he was in the girl's bathroom and to try and divert their attention from the dead body in the stall. However, when he exited he was greeted by none other than Katie.
‘That’s strange,’ Arthur thought then his gaze fell to what she was wearing. It was the same University of the Bahamas Mingoes shirt and black sweatpants, but this ‘Katie’ had no shoes.
Arthur’s mouth went dry. His gaze then fell onto the Katie he attacked and he realized his mistake. He just accidentally killed the original Katie. Before feelings of guilt could consume him, the doppelganger made its move first pulling out the knife which Arthur was going to use on it and stabbing it once in his neck. Blood immediately filled his mouth and he collapsed on his knees to the floor. While he was trying to stop his bleeding, the clone managed to get his bag which fell during the altercation and grabbed the journal. Without a look back, it left Arthur to wallow in his miserableness and failure. He could not even protect the woman he loved, instead being someone who played a part in her demise. Arthur was slowly losing consciousness but all he could think about was Katie. With his eyes blurring he crawled with one hand still clutching his neck as he tried to get to Katie to try and touch her, to apologize to her corpse. But as always in life, Arthur fell short. He collapsed mere inches away from Katie’s body, a hand outstretched, but never receiving an answer, surrounded by his blood. He could only lay there praying for forgiveness, knowing that his actions had just sealed his fate.
Powerless to the change of the course of events, he lay there bleeding and broken, the weight of his mistakes crashing down on him, suffocating any hope of redemption.
Arthur’s story was a cautionary tale of unchecked curiosity and the devastating consequences of playing god.