Valerie entered class like a zombie, she’d stayed up to late again reading and as a result, bags were under her eyes. She’d gone through the trouble of flat ironing her hair but wasn’t as accustomed to the process as some of her peers and the back of her head remained wavy while the front of her hair was straightened to a crisp. She was carrying her latest historical fiction novel about the hurricane that had hit Galveston, TX in the year 1900, her backpack was filled with a squished lunch and other assorted homework assignments. She shuffled to her seat that was off to the right and near the back of the room and in front of her best friend, Shannon. Shannon was already reading the assignment that the teacher had written on the board by Fyodor Dostoyevsky titled Notes from the Underground. Valerie turned to her friend, “Are we supposed to be reading that?” Shannon shrugged, “I think so, Mr. Richter didn’t say. It’s pretty interesting though.” Valerie decided to leave Shannon alone to her reading and opened her book to the last place she’d been reading and zoned out into the world of a 20th century natural disaster.
A few minutes later, as the students had entered the classroom and settled in their seats; Mr. Richter moved to the front of the room and stood in front of the white board. “I need you all to read the excerpt from Dostoyevsky’s work titled Notes from the Underground. Dostoyevsky is famous for describing the world through the eyes of his confused characters. Write an essay showing how he uses this ability to heighten the novel’s sense of realism rather than diminishing it. It will be due next class period.” The class groaned in unison and slowly began to open their textbooks. Mr. Richter scanned the classroom and noticed Mark was fast asleep at his desk and had missed the entire assignment. Her teacher darted at Mark calling his name and startling him from his morning nap. Valerie shook her head. Mark did this practically every morning, why Mr. Richter had chosen this morning to wake him up was beyond her. She pulled out her textbook and reluctantly started to read for the assignment, even though she was more interested in the novel she’d checked out of the library.
Valerie finished the reading assignment half an hour later in slight astonishment. Dostoyevsky was a genius. Most novels are written from the perspective of happy but misunderstood characters. But the underground man has some clearly distinct issues. He’s angry, alone and punishes himself because he can’t stand the culture that he’s living in. The underground man’s diction is all over the place showing how haphazardly insane but also analytical he is. Valerie looked around the classroom. She understood the underground man’s feelings of alienation. It seemed like most of the time she was invisible. She didn’t care about the things her peers did and she was hardly noticed because of her small boobs, gangly appearance and inability to dress attractively. Shannon was beautiful but she also had a hard time dressing like the teenage girls they were. She glanced over at Mark, who was now wide awake and turned around in his seat, smiling at his girlfriend Natalie. She was leaning forward, enticing him in their conversation.
Alex was already writing his essay even though Christina was trying very hard to get his attention with silly conversation. Alex just kept nodding and writing. His stern face made Valerie laugh. She knew that face because he’d given it to her many times during one of her hyper episodes. Travis snapped his fingers in front of Valerie’s eyes. “Come back to Earth, Valerie.” Valerie’s head snapped in Travis’ direction. “I’m already on Earth, Travis. I was thinking.” Travis smiled. “You were staring at Mark again.” Valerie shrugged. “Does it really matter? He barely knows I exist in this class anyways.” Travis smiled at his friend. “I guess not. Natalie might notice though. Have you already finished reading?” Valerie nodded. “Yes. I already love this writing. Dostoyevsky did a great job of writing like an insane hermit.” Travis shrugged and returned to the textbook. “I don’t know, I’m just skimming but it sounds like Dostoyevsky is the one that’s crazy and hates where he lives.” Valerie shook her head. “A good writer can take on the personality of anyone. Just like a good actor can do the same.” Travis nodded his head, agreeing but not truly understanding what Valerie was saying. “I guess so.”
Normally, Valerie would have argued with Travis until he fully understood the idea she was expressing but she suddenly didn’t care and pulled out her notebook and pencil to begin her essay. She had fifteen minutes to begin and that would give her a good start so that she wouldn’t have to write as much at home. Mr. Richter chose that moment to confront Mark again about whether he had read or not. Annoyed, Valerie tried to tune their bickering out so that she could get some of her homework done.
Even with her teacher and her crush feuding in the background, Valerie managed to finish a page of the essay when the bell rang. She scooped up her stuff and threw it in her bag and turned around to Shannon who was also placing her things into her backpack. They shuffled out of class together. Shannon in front. John opened the door for them, smiling at Shannon. Who completely missed the attention since she was turned around talking to Valerie about the Underground man. “I really appreciated how well the author wrote from such a deranged point of view. It would be interesting, however, if Dostoyevsky also wrote from a normal person’s point a view and was capable of proving how well he understood both states of mind.” Valerie nodded in agreement. “I completely agree with you Shannon, but did you see the way that John smiled at you when he held the door open for you?” Shannon looked surprised. “No. Why?” Valerie smiled. “I think he likes you. I read an article on the internet last night that said that when a guy is a gentleman and shows you attention, it means that he’s attracted to you.” Shannon remained quiet for a second as they navigated the hallways to their next class. “I suppose that’s true, but didn’t he smile at everyone he opened the door for?” Valerie sighed. “Good point.”
They walked silently to their next class, theatre, which was on the other side of the school down the main hallway, passed the lunch room, up the stairs and down the hallway to a room that the students had nicknamed, ‘The Black Box.’ It was so named because it was completely blacked out from chairs to desks to walls except for a Victorian style rug in the center and a huge spot light that was always aimed at the middle. Shannon took her seat at the opposite side of class and Valerie slouched in her seat near the front of the room.
Closed System 