Sunken Soul

Five stories of red brick brilliance marked the unique existence that was Crowder Hall, the dormitory that Grant Springs called his home for the past two years. Crowder Hall was one of five dorms that resided on the campus of Arcadia University, one of the best Universities in the Tri-State area. It was famous for its progressive Engineering courses, of which Grant was a member, up until yesterday. The semester was in full swing, happy students were rushing to and fro, ignoring the lifeless husk, that was Grant, still soaked to the bone from yesterday's rain. He sat on one of the many benches in front of Crowder, eyes locked on the building's brilliant shade of red as his mind worked to try and make sense over what the hell happened yesterday.

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Early in the morning, Grant had gotten a phone call informing him that his grandfather had passed away. This type of news already had shocked him, what came next, however, was an even bigger shock. The last few sentences uttered was that the viewing was that day as well as his cremation. Grant did not even know that the grandfather, that raised him since his mother passed away was even ill. He quickly put on a nice suit and tie, slacks and dress shoes, he then ran out of Crowder Hall and jumped on his bicycle and made the three-hour trek from Arcadia University to the small suburban community that was the home of his Grandfather. When he arrived the house was swarmed with cars and trucks, so much so that they were even parked on the lawn and all down both sides of the street.

Grant walked his bike and propped it behind a truck that had driven onto what was once a meticulously manicured lawn. He wept internally for the lawn as he remembered using a push mower every week in high school to make sure it was the best looking lawn in the neighborhood. Finally, Grant locked eyes on the one-story villa and his heart got tied in a knot as the memories of his grandfather came flooding back to him. Being eleven years old, at the end of his mother's coffin, crying as his world had come to an end. An elderly hand touched his shoulder which dried up his tears, he looked up at the face of his grandfather, strong yet kind. An old war veteran tired of losing the people around him, the forgotten relic of his family.

Kind, might be a bit of a stretch, considering his " tough as nails" personality. However, due to animosity between Grant's parents and the rest of the family, he would have been thrown into the system otherwise. The source of the friction was never really explained to Grant, all he could gather was that it had to do with his absentee father. Grant never knew him his whole life and yet he could tear apart familial bonds with his mere presence of thought? Not knowing the truth was hard but with everyone so tight-lipped about it he had no choice but to give up.

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Grant snapped out of his own head as he finally got up off the bench that was facing Crowder, as he went inside to pack his bags. The whole situation stunk like late week's garbage, but Grant had no other way to pay his tuition. The Pell helped but it did not cover all of the cost which up until yesterday was being handled by his grandfather. Grant adamantly refused to get a student loan to finish his schooling as he did not like the prospect of how much he would owe by the end. Plus in order to put the final nail in the coffin, so to speak , in no loans, the job market was so unstable that even if he got his degree, there was no guarantee of him getting a job at that time.

Grant got to his third floor dorm room and used his key and quickly entered. He did not need to look for his room mate as he was more likely in class or stoned off his ass at one of the nearby frat houses, Grant never could tell the difference when it came to his room mate. Grant opened the closet and stripped completely naked, letting the wet clothes slap the tile floor. He grabbed a towel and headed for the common bathroom. Since that floor was males only and classes were still ongoing, Grant did not feel the need to cover up.

Grant swung open the bathroom door and walked into the cold, empty bathroom before he got a genuine shock courtesy of the one piece mirror over the sinks on the right side. He walked over the tilted his head slightly so his right ear was in full view. Pierced through his right earlobe was a golden stud earring, the golden sheen was what had drawn his eye to it. He mouthed a "WTF!" as he had no recollection of ever getting his ear pierced. He checked his left ear but let out a relieved sigh as it was untouched, only his right.

A chill ran through his body as it reminded him of why he had gone into the bathroom in the first place, a nice hot shower to warm up after being soaked in wet clothes for so long. He put the earring mystery out of his mind as he had no clue on how to remove it. Plus it was not like it was hurting him, if the gold did not glint in the mirror, he would not have known it was there to begin with. Grant hung his towel up and stepped into a shower stall and turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until it was nice and hot. As the heat seeped into his body, his mind drifted back to yesterday, to his interaction with Robert the prick.

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Robert P. Zane or as Grant loved to call him, Robert the Prick, was the eldest son of his uncle (On his mother's side, of course), Carl Zane. Carl was, ok, Grant had a handful of preteen memories where Carl was nicer to him, down right friendly. A year or two before Grant's mom passed Carl got colder towards Grant, which gave his son, Robert the courage to be a massive dick. While most of the time, Robert was a reserved, quiet spoken person, towards Grant, he was constantly throwing around his footballer physique. In Grant's face, with a loud and domineering bluster typical of a high school bully.

As Grant approached the front door, it opened and out stepped Robert with a huge Grin plastered all over his face. He closed the door behind him as he finally spoke once they were alone. " Well, Well, Well, if it isn't Granite, i am afraid, you are on private property and you were not invited." Grant had gotten the nickname Granite mostly from Richard as he had tried to do everything under the sun to incite Grant to anger, however Grant had remembered one lesson that his grandfather taught him. " Bullies thrive off of getting a reaction, show them that they will get no reaction from you and they will lose interest." This advice had helped Grant through high school, where he was infamous for being stone-faced when being bullied. When Grant was a senior, Robert came in as a freshman and was the only one immune to Grant's tactics which was where the nickname came from.

On this occasion, Grant was not going to remain stone-faced, not in front of the house he had lived in for under a decade. " Come off it Robert, i have more of a right to be here then you do, seeing as i was taken in my grandfather, you and your dad barely spoke to him. If not for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, you probably would not know the difference between him being alive or dead." Grant tried to push past Robert to grab the door handle to enter the house, only to have his skinny frame shoved away by Robert, who had lost the grin on his face. Robert then smirked as he planted a kick right into Grant chest.

Grant tumbled backwards from the sudden kick to his chest, but thankfully, the kick in question was not hard just surprising. He quickly got back up to his feet as he wiped the boot print from his clothes before he turned to Robert for an explanation. Robert got his grin back upon seeing the look on Grant's face, " Normally, you would be right, however a reading of Grandfather's will took place earlier today. My father, being the sole surviving son inherited the land, house and all items, therein. He is going to put the house up for sale, and any items that is not taken by the family will also be sold off." The smug look on his face pissed Grant off, and his his first instinct was to deck Robert, but as violence never solved anything, he suppressed the growing rage as he spoke, " all the more reason to let me through so i can grab my stuff from the house before it is sold."

"Can you prove, you own anything in this house?" Robert had the biggest grin on his face as he stood on the raised steps leading to the front door. The question halted Grant in his steps as he was puzzled by Robert's attitude. " Come off it Rob! I lived here for years alongside Granddad. That is all the proof i need, now Step aside!" Grant's face was turning several shades of red as he stared daggers at Robert. The grin on Robert's face never wavered as his voice came out with an undeniable air of superiority, " But, do you have proof? Receipts of purchase, photos with your stuff, anything at all?" Grant's head cooled off when gave examples of proof needed. Ideas flooded Grant's head before he grinned and said, " The proof i have is back at my dorm, set your ass down and i will be right back with all the proof you need."

Grant turned around to go grab his bike and marathon the trip back to see if he kept the receipts. As he was about to leave, Robert called out, " you do that, in the meanwhile i will keep your big screen and PlayBox 500 company. I get rather heated when i game, so who knows what condition they will be n when you come back." Robert let out a full on belly laugh which made Grant's blood freeze. Anger, resentment, humiliation bubbled deep within as Grant stopped dead in his own tracks. His face was turning as hot as magma,while his hands slowly balled up into fists. The rest of his body was starting to shake violently.

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All the feelings resurfaced in the shower as Grant was letting out deep, but metered breaths as he lashed out. Grant punched the wall of the shower full force with his right fist, his blood boiling in his veins. The wall gave no quarter as pain shoot through his extended hand, the anger was dulling the pain for the moment. He pulled his fist back and examined the damage, the skin on his knuckles were broken and bleeding and Grant guessed that the bones were damaged as well. The pain slowly ate away at Grant's anger, eventually surpassing it as he mouthed his discontent, " Stupid, stupid, stupid."

Grant finished up his shower as he held his wounded hand under the stinging cascade of water. The pain intensified making Grant wince but it cleared Grant's head of all his negative feelings and helped him to focus on the present. The hot blood was washed down the drain by the water before he turned off the water and grabbed for his towel. After he dried off, Grant wrapped the towel around his waist and headed out of the bathroom. As he turned the head back to his dorm room, a feminine figure was standing at the far end of the hallway. She seemed to have just come out of the stairwell and was staring at the half naked Grant.

The woman appeared to be in her twenties and was dressed from head to toe in a black suit and tie. She seemed to come straight out of the stories about secret government agents as she also had on black sunglasses inside and a neutral look on her face. Her straight black hair was pulled back into a single ponytail which ended at the nape of her neck. She stood silently as she watched Grant's every move standing in a military style " At ease" position. Grant slowly approached and was about to speak up when images bombarded his vision. The sudden surge of information gave Grant a headache as he tried to process what he was seeing.

Grant walking back to campus from the funeral, constantly being soaked by the sudden downpour. The emergence of two figures in black suits along the road before suddenly passing out. Grant held his head as he was muttering some words that came to him, " Unique….. Tracking... Offer." As the pain in his head subsided, Grant looked at where the woman was, only to find that she had vanished into thin air. No trace of her lingered as if she was a ghost, haunting the building. Grant went up to where the woman had been standing, looking for any sign that she existed.