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The Evolution of Genius: Every Night, I Get Smarter!
- Genre: Fantasy
- Age: 18+
- Status: Completed
- Language: English
- Author: WorldScholar
- Uploaded by user859799
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Max Sullivan
2023, New York, USA
The relentless New York sun scorches the city streets as I stand there, just another high school student in the heart of the Big Apple.
I wear my everyday attire, which provides no refuge from the oppressive heat.
But I ponder why?! Why don't I kill myself?!
It's a survival game, you see? But let me tell ya, these ain't your run-of-the-mill circumstances we're talkin' about here.
I'm stuck in this never-ending cycle of torment, all at the hands of those creeps I gotta call my high school 'peers.'
They don't let up, man. Every day's like they don't have anything more productive to do, with 'em taunting, jeering, and even getting physical.
The damn sun just beats down on me, and it's like they feed off that heat, using it to turn up the heat on my misery.
The gang, led by this real piece of work, thrives on making me the punchline of their sick jokes.
But you know what? I'm holdin' on to the belief that someday the tables will turn.
I've got dreams! And ambitions! I won't let go of it, no matter how vicious they get. Still, it's wearin' me down, man... I am scarred inside.
One blistering afternoon, I'm standing there, alone, while they're off celebrating their cruelty. The damn New York pavement, it just amplifies the pain, and my spirit's sinkin' fast, like, 'Why bother, you know?'
As they keep on with their assault, my legs just give out, and I'm slowly fading out.
The city's noises turn into some hazy shrieks, as I crash onto that unforgiving concrete.
And as my last bit of consciousness slips away, I'm lettin' the darkness take over, hopefully leaving my bullies to face the consequences of their actions in the aftermath of their cruelty, all against the backdrop of New York's never-ending chaos...
The last thing I could seem to remember someone whispering was, "Impetum in Eo..."
...
As a fourth-year student at New York High School, the weight of choosing my major and university rested squarely on my shoulders.
My aspirations of pursuing software architecture had been clouded by the fact that my grades were below average. So, I had to compromise and sign up for the less hyped humanities specialization.
"I've got it, humanity's suck, no need for reminders."
But deep down, I couldn't shake this feeling that I might be screwing up. Humanities instead of engineering, my real passion?
My future was unknown, offering choices like further academic studies, studying abroad, exploring different majors, or working at the university.
Pursuing a Master's degree remained a practical option, but the logistical challenges were daunting.
My family resided in Chicago, miles away from New York. My father, an electrician at a local factory, bore the brunt of our financial responsibilities.
And then there was my mom, retired and needing a bit more care, throwing another layer of pressure on our resources.
I had a younger brother in high school, while my older sister had already started her university studies. The costs of my brother's future education added to my concerns.
While my father aspired for me to earn a doctorate, such dreams were far-fetched.
Faced with the harsh reality of my circumstances, I began to question the path I had chosen.
While my buddies were gearing up for wild nights out or hitting the books with determination, I was stuck in this contemplative state, thinking about the possibility of ditching the academic grind for a shot at employment.
Despite my persistent efforts in my studies, any progress seemed out of reach to me.
The true purpose of university life remained a question. I often wondered if my boring life would lead me to an answer or further into uncertainty.
The prospect of working to secure my future started to loom larger in my thoughts, casting a shadow over my academic pursuits.
All of that changed one fateful night when I woke up feeling refreshed like never before.
It was as if I had been transported back to my childhood days, with a sense of wonder and excitement filling my every pore.
I went through my usual morning routine, brushing my teeth with the same precision I always did.
Breakfast wasn't on my radar, as I had long adopted the habit of eating my first meal around 2 or 3 PM.
After these rituals, I found myself sitting at my desk, opening my physics book to the page on Strain and Elasticity. I needed to revise for the last physics quiz. The words on those pages seemed to pop up to me:
'Experiments have demonstrated that the change in length (ΔL) depends on just a few factors. It's clear that ΔL is proportional to the applied force (F) and influenced by the material properties of the object.'
Somehow this seemed simple, normally I would just sigh in resignation and decide that I would do the revision right before class, but this time I felt like I could read on:
'We can combine all these factors into one equation forΔL=FL0/YA'
I mulled over the equation, and a weird sensation washed over me—an unmistakable sense of something being different, for certain.
Memories flooded back vividly. "Y" representing the elastic modulus, "A" standing for cross-sectional area, and "L0" denoting the original length, all fell into place with crystal clarity.
Nothing would have appeared strange about this if it weren't for the fact that I had just skimmed through it for a mere couple of seconds, yet it felt as though I had reviewed it countless times.
I looked at my watch
"What in the fuck!"
I quickly packed up my belongings, knowing that my classes were set to begin in 20 minutes.
After locking my apartment door on the fifth floor of a towering 20-story building, I couldn't help but reminisce about my decision to choose the cheapest accommodation available.
It had led me to share this space with two other students, and over the four years of living together, I had forged a particularly strong friendship with one of them - Alex was his name.
During those years, my friend and I shared more than just living quarters; we shared countless gaming sessions.
Whether it was playing CS: GO or diving into the endless world of toxicity and vulgarisms called League of Legends, he was always the one carrying me through.
Remarkably, I had climbed to the prestigious rank of Diamond in League of Legends, despite my abysmal skills.
As I hustled to make it to school in time, I couldn't help but take in the intricate urban layout of Lexington Avenue.
The towering skyscrapers, the relentless stream of people, and the ceaseless honking of horns all contributed to the chaos of the city.
Yet, amidst all this, my thoughts wandered to the bizarre events of the morning. It was as if a curtain had been drawn back, revealing a world that felt more vivid and vibrant than ever before.
The everyday sights and sounds of Lexington Avenue seemed to pop with an intensity that rivaled Times Square on New Year's Eve, leaving me wondering if I had inadvertently stumbled into some alternate reality, where the colors were richer, the streets more alive...
The whole Damn world felt like one helluva trip.
"Hey, nobody slipped me any drugs, did they?"
I made it to my high school just in time, joining a motley crew of students streaming through the gates alongside me.
The parade of styles on display was like a fashion circus.
Some were decked out in classic New York threads, exuding that edgy, urban vibe, while others had embraced the latest Korean-inspired trends that were all the rage.
With a quick glance at my wristwatch, I had a moment of sheer panic. There wasn't a single second to waste.
The school bell, honked louder and louder, scaring the shit out of me.
I kicked into fifth gear, navigating through the bustling hallway, as the school bell transformed into a relentless drumbeat, marking the start of my mad dash against time.
As I sprinted through the school's labyrinthine hallways, I couldn't help but think back to the last time I had rushed like this.
Back then, I was like a bull in a china shop, slamming into unsuspecting students left and right. But today was different. It was like I had this crazy sixth sense for navigation, nailing every twist and turn with surgical precision.
But, just as I was about to breeze into my classroom and dodge the ticking clock, fate decided to throw me a curveball.
In a cruel twist of irony, I collided headfirst with none other than Ms. Rivers, the physics teacher herself.
Her stern expression laid it out plain and clear – my flawless sense of direction hadn't saved me from this awkward showdown.
"Sullivan!"
"My bad, Ms. Rivers!"
'Damn, what a way to kick off the day!'
"Come on in, Max. We're diving right into the quiz," Ms Rivers said, her frustration evident.
Walking into the classroom, my gaze flickered over to a girl chilling in the front row.
She had long blonde hair, and she rocked this captivating, easy beauty that sent warmth through the room via her expressive eyes.
Her laughter? Contagious as all hell. It had this charm that could make anyone crack a smile, even if just on the inside.
Alongside her good looks, she was decked out in a white pullover and some bell-bottom jeans. Olivia – that was her name.
Hastily, I headed to the back of the classroom, seeking distance from my tormentors from the day before.
Two male classmates, the very ones who had beaten me up, greeted me with sly smiles. The memory of waking up in pain after their assault was still fresh in my mind.
Somehow, the bruises I had acquired during that time seemed to disappear by morning as well. I couldn't explain this bewildering phenomenon, and I knew I wouldn't be able to make people believe me either.
As I settled into my seat, I found myself sitting next to my friend Alex, who had left the apartment much earlier.
Alex turned to me and asked, "Yo! Did you revise for the quiz?" he exclaimed with his outgoing nature. "I saw you were still knocked out right before I took off."
Alex, my friend, was a slightly overweight guy with a remarkably handsome face, he sported clothes that leaned towards the more affordable end of the spectrum.
"No sweat, buddy," I responded, exuding a sense of confidence. "I did some last-minute cramming. I'm gonna make up for my other grades today, I can feel it."