Alienated

Chapter 1 – 08/04/2022, Friday 18:02

A plastic click echoed in the quiet room as Ella shut the laptop. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, it didn’t take more than five seconds to flip it open again.

The assignment was handed in before the deadline. She was quite sure. The precise time was even indicated on the screen: 18:00 sharp. Why then? Why did ‘late submission’ return her glare with bold red font? It shot adrenaline up to the tips of her hairs, and her eyes narrowed at the accusing words. Her gaze burned into the screen until the words blurred.

She should reach out to the teacher.

She could only hover over the emailing app. Embarrassment drenched the usual fiery itch to argue her case. What would she even write? ‘Dear Professor, the system seems to disagree, but I was definitely on time’?

It was already the resit. She hadn’t even handed it in the first time.

With one hour left, giving up attempting to make the paper passable, she’d scrambled to complete all the footnoting; another disaster all of its own. Starting her final paper on the day of the deadline had let her overconfident tendency to procrastinate blow up right in her face. Had she been delusional or ignorant? Not being graded at all might be less humiliating.

The laptop was closed shut again.

The girl stood up after grabbing her earphones.

Still in her pyjamas, the track played right where she’d left it, and she stepped back into a familiar world where things mattered more and less at once. By the time she sat down at the dining table on the opposite side of the room, the song managed to upgrade her C-rated experience of life to a mildly engaging B. She was usually at war with boredom, but now regret had brought shame, and she was being beat up.

Getting up from her seat, her next move to the window had a sense of finality about it; she wouldn’t be getting up for the foreseeable.

Taking the first puff, the magic smoke swarmed in from the tip of the filter and down her lungs. It immediately quenched a thirst she hadn’t taken note of until now. Golden comfort was swirling in the back of her throat, and it was as though giving in, or up, had switched off all anxious thoughts. The worries dissipated into an ugly background she could easily ignore, and the heavy weight dragging behind her was cut loose.

Really considering the fullness in her chest, she exhaled.

This being the first spliff today shouldn’t have been so notable, but it was, and she was torn between attempting to think she could be proud or just immediately conceding the dishonourable picture of her screw-up.

It was six p.m., and the notion of congratulating herself for the abstinence until now left a bitter aftertaste she almost felt the urge to cough at. It wouldn’t be enough to counter the arguments in favour of self-flagellation. Not with the bird’s eye view she just received from the past two weeks. Two weeks of cramming an entire module had resulted in one, well, technically two, exam attendances.

This was bad.

She couldn’t argue her way out of it anymore. Not even with herself. The crime scene was splattered with mockery and condescension, proof falling from the air like it was confetti.

The one exam she had attended, her third resit for ‘contract law’, had been non-negotiable. An ego-thing, really. Though considering the assignment she had just submitted for ‘academic writing’ had also started as that; vanity didn’t inspire her much anymore.

This was so bad.

Six months ago, not submitting the paper had been the answer to get it right.

Could the COVID-19 vaccine be mandatory in Europe in light of article 8 ECHR? Knowledge on the article covering human rights from a previous course should have helped her breeze through the essay; it was current, well-talked-about and had even been interesting in the beginning. But by the time the paper had to be handed in this second time, Ella could barely conceal her disdain for the topic. She hated that virus.

A zero last time had been the way to get an eight. Now she didn’t know if it was even going to be graded. This outcome was as astonishing as it was a slap to the face. Not in the way that it was not logical, but in the way she couldn’t believe she’d let it happen. She remembered moving on quickly the last couple of times. Especially considering the failure was beyond repair.

But this wasn’t like the last times. Or maybe it was exactly like them. The rope around her neck started suffocating her airways; previously convinced she could cut the noose loose whenever she pleased, the girl was now forced to wonder if she’d even be able to reach it at all.

She needed to make sure this downward spiral would stop before she was finally swallowed up and drowned by the whirlpool she was treating like her playground.

At this exact time last year, she had really gone off the rails; a weekend away from the last module of her first year at university. It had been the start of ‘catching up later’. This new rock-bottom crushed her as her mind flashed with memory. This exam-season end had been the long and dragged-out consequence of that first slight in judgement a year ago. An entire year.

The reason for her failure to keep up had been as obvious then as it was now; being high and simultaneously studying Law were not compatible. At least not to the extent she had been taking it before this particular exam-week.

She was very willing to lay the blame with the psychoactive substance. Though it wasn’t like she’d tried with actual effort. Considering the amounts she’d smoked this week, though reduced, to be any kind of acceptable, stemmed from her unwavering belief that Mary-Jane wasn’t that bad.

It was a good drug.

With a flicker of her joint, the ash missed the ashtray.

Going through legal material while disregarding the temptation to watch movies, anime, read, especially to read, that came with this buzzed state, simply couldn’t hold sway within a mind used to chasing whatever fleeting satisfaction arose in the moment. Try reading some fantasy novel high, it’s a whole trip.

She was sleeping upwards of twelve hours a day.

Shit, that did sound bad.

Ella had always enjoyed sleeping more than your average person, but it begged the question of why the sweet feeling of nothingness was the one she found most comforting. Not even dreaming anymore, this singular way of turning consciousness off was a big enough appeal. It was like she preferred being turned off; or high.

It all boiled down to the constant disregard for ‘should’ in favour of ‘want’. The change gradual, things had spiralled so far out of control that she couldn’t help feeling surprised.

She rolled the flint wheel of the ‘Clipper’ with her thumb.

The previous statement had to be a lie. The realisation shocked her core, but it was not some new epiphany. It was an acknowledgement renewed every time exam season started and she’d failed yet again to be in any way prepared. She had been in the eye of the storm many times before, the clear sky unambiguous in demonstrating reason after calamity, and yet she dived headlong back into it. With the way out as an ever-present option, she insisted on testing the limits. If there really were a limit, she had undoubtedly reached the outer bounds of it now.

Pigeons cooed from below; they must have agreed.

One year ago, in two weeks, marked the first instance of the girl telling herself ‘Next time’. If things didn’t change now, that would really be it. ‘Introduction to European and International Law’ had been a disaster the first time around, and all while taking another long drag from the joint she had been smoking all throughout her contemplations, she began to plan how this time was going to be different.

She’d wake up in the morning, go to the library and do the work for the tutorial on time. She’d go to class, which was finally in person, and she’d participate. Recent history might indicate the student enjoyed weed more than life itself, but from the girl’s subjective viewpoint, she just needed to try with something other than a half-assed attitude that would ultimately be abandoned midway. She had to shake off this unbothered attitude, treating everything as if it didn’t matter. She’d do the whole studying thing, go swimming with the university team, invite her housemate Elienor to hang out; and she’d do it consistently.

She wouldn’t abstain from the bedtime-joint though. That was too much. Only getting stoned in social settings was the end-goal, but she’d burn that bridge when she got to it. The action itself wasn’t the issue, it was the frequency and the way it completely paralyzed her days.

If the girl was more reflective than rational, she’d realize it wasn’t that she didn’t want to, but that she realistically wouldn’t be able to quit. Though ‘able’ could also be traced back to a lack of willpower, if you were looking for answers where you shouldn’t.

In some faraway universe, it may have been concerning how the only time she really felt something was when dopamine artificially pumped through her brain with THC. Presently, why she felt the need to escape her own mind until everything became fuzzy was an issue that didn’t require any acknowledgment. She didn’t need to think about it because the answer was obvious: getting high was fun.

The reason she was failing wasn’t anything she had no control over. It was a choice she was making so routinely restraint became foreign. Ignoring any and everything stressful, living like time didn’t exist, Mary-Jane infallibly pulled her up into the clouds.

Putting out the joint and grabbing the pre-rolled next one from the windowsill, lighting it in the same breath as deciding it to be the problem was ironically failing to weigh on her conscience. This was her break, well deserved or not.

Instead, her gaze opted to follow the grey smoke wafting out of the third-floor window.

It was evening, but still bright. Spring finally taking hold made for a nice view, and while the temperature wasn’t exactly balmy, the orange curtain that hung low in the sky felt cosy on her cheeks. Leaves on the trees were the only thing missing to complete the seasonal look, but the sunset shining though the naked branches was easy on the eye. Admiring the scene as though it were a striking painting needing to be etched into her mind, it almost felt like it’d be warm tomorrow.

It was kind of inspiring. The change of season so flagrant, this disastrous conclusion opened a new chapter and chance to try again. Maybe it was the drugs, or maybe it was in the air, but this guilt-driven ambition only a total lack of effort could provide was almost euphoric.

The head start she was actively providing her classmates, overconfident in catching up, no longer chained her down so heavily. Her studies had turned into a disaster, but stubborn as she was, she’d make it.

Observing the pretty colours splashed in the distant stratosphere, her mind finally felt quiet. The high she always chased had finally hit, and her fears were hidden behind a milky curtain until she forgot they existed. She was about to get her tablet to enjoy the high to the fullest when her attention was diverted to movement in the building opposite hers.

The neighbouring giant square structure in the bustling neighbourhood of Wyck had been perpetually empty until now, to the point she’d even wondered what purpose it served. The usual lack of action being a solidified feature since she moved in, she was amused at the striking contrast.

It was very funny that of course, she’d notice.

Her eyes moved over the vibrant sky over the rooftop for another second, before more motion in her peripheral, behind the windows twenty-five meters across the street, had her tearing her gaze from the aesthetic scenery.

Immersing herself into the online fantasy novel in her lap, music played a perfect background through her earphones; not even the pigeons trying to sing just below the window managed to bother her.

Chapter 2 – 08/04/2022, Friday 21:33

It was pitch black out by the time Ella was done eating and back in her spot by the window to smoke the next round. She’d finally understood what the movement in the other building had been about: a party. Heavy noise had quietly overpowered her earphones and picked at her curiosity.

It’d made her look.

Living next to the train station and near the city centre, loud rackets until six a.m. were not out of the ordinary; but nothing this in-your-face or consistent, nothing she could not masterfully blend out. As unusual as popping outside her isolated bubble was, her gaze had moved over to the opposite side of the street.

How had she not noticed the event until now? It was in full swing, but she’d somehow missed the start of it. Her ‘no fucks given’ attitude must have reached a new level, stubbornly keeping her attention until the sound invaded her private space and forced it.

Light was pouring out of the usually dark structure, and the crowd on the balcony caught her eye. It felt foreign.

In one year and a half year of living in Maastricht, she could not remember a single sign of life coming from that appartement block. Not that she’d ever really looked. Their music was blaring out. Awe at how she had intuitively ignored the event grew.

With exam season just ending, it was understandable that celebrations were in order. For everyone else at least. Or maybe she could call her hang-out by the window her own little party. No, that sounded too pathetic to reach the fun she tried to make out of the situation. Turning the volume of her own music up until the crowd was drowned out, she focused back on the fantasy novel.

But it was challenging.

The reminder of how normal people spent their Friday night was hitting low, and suddenly everything didn’t feel so fine anymore.

The research paper became a more obvious failure with every second she spent considering the effective submission, late or not. Having ever thought otherwise must have been some kind of momentary and thoughtless delusion, pushed by stress and lack of perspective.

She’d gone to a single exam. And though she’d been hopeful about it until now, the longer she thought about it, the more arguments for defeat were made.

Thoughts were spiralling intensely with every second she paused the avoidance of her past behaviour. She couldn’t ignore it anymore. But contemplating a picture bigger than just this moment, just today; admiring the gigantic screw up that the last year had been in all of its ignorant glory, with all of its terrifying consequence; managed to shock her spine some more. How did she manage this big fucking lie? To herself? And how dumb would she really be if she persisted on it?

She’d reached this cliff before, had felt the burn. And yet, she’d done nothing.

Astounding laziness and normalized numbness had positively uprooted the ambitions that had accompanied her arrival in this city. Consistently bad decision-making. Or maybe it was this debilitating lack of motivation. Creating something that must have been called a routine, she couldn’t even remember the last time she went to a party, the last time she socialized, the last time she checked up on her friends. She’d been rotting her brain on high-induced binge sessions; videos, books, anything to keep her entertained.

The next inhale of the blunt was long, like it would help quiet the racing doom in her thoughts. The exhale was even longer.

The way she was wasting away gone beyond what could be called socially acceptable, it had to stop. This wasn’t going to ruin her life; she wasn’t going to let it. She’d do it. Be normal again. Just like those people on the other side of the street. Celebrating the arrival of the weekend and socializing as they should, they were the kind of bother that everyone had no choice but to tolerate. Anyone angry at it was just jealous.

The momentum of the last two weeks was the jump into cold water. Now, all that was left was to swim. They were shark-infested waters: the studying done useless now and still smoking way too much (if only not as much); but she could fight. Doing a one-eighty, a few years from now, she’d remember this time as the gap year she hadn’t been able to take.

How hilarious.

She’d indeed wanted to take a gap year after high school, but she’d been talked out of it; maybe this had been her way to force it. It was as bamboozling as it was convenient, a perfect justification. That’s what made excuses the best; when everyone would think it poor reasoning and pinning the blame elsewhere, but to her, it was a most rational way of painting herself as not ‘that bad’.

A scheme from her subconscious; it was a ridiculous hypothesis, but since it was hers, she’d let it slide.

Sound snuck through the barrier of her earphones. Right. The party. Were they shouting?

Even if they were, it was none of her business. She turned the volume on her phone further up; the festivities outside weren’t anything that couldn’t be ignored.

She’d become so irritable recently, snapping at the simplest things. It was annoying. Now even a bit of noise was enough to create something similar to pressing impatience. She didn’t know how else to describe the feeling.

As much as she loved to argue against it, with herself no less, everything was not fine. She’d always thought depression meant sadness, but maybe it was more than that. This excruciating guilt following her every step: not going to most of her exams, the sloppy research paper, this out-of-control stoner behaviour; were all proof that something was wrong with her. The way she was chain-smoking Mary-Jane simply made it impossible to feel sad. The joy was artificial, and probably unhealthy, but it’s the thing that kept her hand moving to and from her lips.

It needed to stop. She needed her brain.

Not right now though. Right now, she needed to get high enough to forget.

The doorbell ringing vaguely registered, but she was much too deep in self-pity to do anything about it. It was almost midnight, and she was obviously not expecting anyone. If someone forgot their key, they could text the group chat. Maybe then she’d deign to pause her party and go down the three flights to open the door. Calling it a party still felt hilariously pathetic, but now it was intentional.

When bellowed laughter echoed from outside, she was finally torn from her overly defensive thoughts. Unable to control the urge, her head turned towards the source. For the first time, her gaze settled without immediately moving away.