The Girl in the Ugly Grey Pyjamas

Ladislas sucked deeply on his cigarette. The smoke swirled in his mouth, the acrid flavor combining with stale whiskey. Nausea licked at his stomach.

Maybe he should try a different flavor next time. So much for cheap cigarettes being better sometimes.

He had been sitting out in the yard all night. The absence of sleep seemed less marked when he pretended it was a choice. The moon, previously a bright orb in the night sky had waned and diminished. There was a shimmer on the horizon.

He could cope with loneliness and exasperation. It was the crippling boredom that was killing him, clinging onto his skin like a freshly-inked tattoo, shaping his life, and well… he couldn't wait for it to scab and fall off. He just couldn't shake it off, no matter how hard he tried.

And he had tried very hard.

The early morning mist descended, wrapping around the house like a lover. He stayed up front, letting the damp, musty smell invade his sense. He could taste it on his lips.

His life, over the centuries, had become an unending carousel of work, alcohol, new hobbies, and a craving for interest. Lack of sleep added to his clarity, like a spotlight trained on the truth. And no matter where he looked, he was powerless to escape it.

He snubbed his final cigarette, glowing red ash scattering across the ground. Pulling his jacket tight around his drawn shoulders, he headed inside to get ready for work.

A cold shower and thorough brushing after, he walked to the University. The campus was just starting to wake up. Students and faculty members scurried in all directions: to offices and libraries, to coffee shops and lecture rooms. Some wore clothes bearing all marks of last night's activities, the pained expression or satisfaction on their faces told no tales of shame.

Ladislas noticed all of this. Boredom had made him see everything in broad vision. He saw everything to go through the day; no less.

His office was a mess. The tiny cubicle was strewn with books, some open, some scrawled upon. The cleaner knew well enough not to touch his books, so it wasn't a surprise. She actually avoided him since she closed a book by accident and suffered a diatribe that made her cry.

He hadn't even noticed. Apart from the books and the dust, he didn't throw things around in the room or eat there to need cleaning.

After a morning of frantic reading and looking for answers where there were none, he walked into one of the lecture rooms, carrying a case full of notes and a heart full of misery. Teaching college students philosophy had been a bad decision. As much as he liked ruminating over life and the world, teaching these little twits was the last thing he wanted.

So much for entertaining himself with their antics. These kids didn't even make out in his class or sleep. He didn't know if he wanted to be thankful or not.

He was close to forgetting days. Because each one seemed to merge into the next.

Life was stretching on forever and dragging him along with it whether he liked it or not.

When he entered the lecture theatre, a few students were already there. One of them was playing music through his phone—some kind of upbeat, inane, pop song that formed a soundtrack for a summer. As soon as the student spotted him, they turned it off and stopped talking.

The murmurs faded into nothing.

He had that effect on people and enjoyed it a little. He could either attract them into submission or their self-preservation would be on red alert when he was near.

He loaded up his laptop, opened the presentation, and heard the theatre fill up. Classical Philosophy was a popular subject, especially for freshmen. It was gritty and made you lurch over each and every word.

When he turned it was as if everything slowed down. Because there, at the far end of the room, was the woman who had seen his cock a few nights ago.

She looked nothing like that night. Her hair was not fashionably tousled, instead, it looked like she had made a run for class after waking up terribly late. Her eyes were bloodshot and she looked like she was about to fall asleep at any second.

He pursed his lips and stared.

He had never seen her in his class before. Was she avoiding his classes on purpose all semester-long or had she figured out he taught in her University and come to see him?

The girl didn't notice his stare. She was talking to a fellow student, her lips quirked up in a smile. She tucked her short hair over her ear and laughed.

He watched her with interest, his heart beating so intensely that it surprised him. He had long believed it had shriveled and died.

The screen behind him flickered and the first slide of his lecture slowly came into focus. The low hum that had settled around the room faded to silence, the faces of his students turning to regard him. They gazed expectantly, waiting for him to speak.

He opened his mouth and began to speak, every word addressed towards the sleepy girl sitting on the last bench.

She had crossed her legs, her bare ankles peeking from under her crumbled sweatpants, swinging back and forth like a metronome. Her eyes drooped and she shook her ankles to keep awake.

Ladislas felt a surge of anger. These humans had been rapt with attention when he spoke to them, lusted after him even though their beaus sat beside them, but this wretched girl who had seen his cock didn't even look at him.

She had the gall to fall asleep.

When she turned to talk to the girl sitting beside her, fury exploded in his veins. Frantically, he searched through his mind for a way to stop the violent thoughts in his mind. Her soft chuckle and the way she jabbed the girl with the blunt of her pencil infuriated him.

The laidback persona he put on for all these years washed away.

Enough.

"You." He turned his dark eyes on her. "You in that ugly grey pajamas. Remain seated after class. Everybody else is dismissed."

Finally, she looked at him.