"And as you can see here..." The monotone voice rang through the ears of the college students, the lack of enthusiasm from all parties wafting throughout the room like a cloud of noxious flatulence. Similar to the adorable figurines whose heads bobble up and down on the dashboards of cars and desks, the heads of students also rose and fell. Some moved violently, the natural reflexes of the human body kicking in as it attempted to combat the sudden descent. The alternating rows of desks and occasional twitching head seemed to be impossible to distinguish from that of the well-known toy in its environment. In any case, it served to slightly lessen the stifling boredom of the class.

"...as a result, none of these theories have been confirmed true." A clack resounded from the front of the class, a result of the chalkboard opposing the force of the now-broken stick of chalk in the teacher's hand. He turned around and faced the class, his large figure now easier to see. He was a large man, both in the horizontal and vertical sense. It was easy to see he was fat, evident in the creases and folds that were hidden under the protruding gut. His pants, which were obviously several sizes too small, made it painful to look at him. No doubt, he was trying to seem skinner than he really was. Looking at his face, his mustache was a light-brown color, though it seemed it had been several days since his last shave - hair on its edges was beginning to regrow, making it look somewhat messy. In general, he seemed to look like any other normal white person at his age.

"No one knows if these are true, however. For all we know, it could be completely wrong." His tone was now much more stern and interested. "Yes?"

A student in the front-row had raised a hand.

"So, we basically have to use our imagination about what it could be?" A guy's voice.

"In a sense, yes."

"But, that doesn't make sense. Can't we just find more evidence instead? If we don't have sufficient evidence to support any one theory, then what's the point of releasing these theories? It would just cause clashes between different scientists, and make it hard to adequately find which one is right."

It was an interesting reply to what seemed to be a normal, boring lesson. Voices began to rise, escalating as friends and strangers alike began to publicly discuss the student's concerns.

"Now, that's an interesting argument you have there." The teacher's voice changed once again, his tone matching that of a person defending an ideology. "On that basis, then, I shouldn't have told you about this. Actually, no one should know about anything. All the scientific literature you've been taught and read, from Darwin's evolutionist theories to Einstein's theory of general relativity, should've never been given to any of you."

"There's a lot of evidence for each of them though."

"You are right about that, and yet, there is still a possibility that they are all wrong. Do we really know if any of them are true? Can anyone provide first-hand proof or experience?"

An uneasy silence swept over the room.

"Were any of you alive at the creation of the universe, to witness the "Big Bang" that gave birth to everything? How about during the age of the dinosaurs? Did anyone witness the break-up of the ancient continent of Pangaea?

More silence.

"No. We don't. Right now, the theories that we have now are the closest we've gotten to describe how a phenomenon or event occurs. We'd have to omnipotent to be able to know, truly, how things happened or worked. But of course, we aren't. So, we have to do the next best thing - collectively compile and analyze the data and observations we've gathered, and continue to refine and shape it. It's like a diamond; initially, it's covered in dirt, filled with imperfections. However, we clean and purify it, until we finally get that illustrious shine we all know and love. We can't do that if scientists and other professionals in their field don't communicate and share information with each other. Sure, it might start fights and arguments, but the end goal is to finally have the accurate and correct description for why - and how - something happens."

I glanced around the classroom - no more bobble-heads. Listening to the teacher, I could feel the passion he had for his discipline. Everyone else felt the same way.

"..And yet, if we're going to find out about what makes this world tick, we need something to guide us. Does anyone know what that is?"

"Money?"

"Friends?"

"Women?"

"Willpower?"

Students were throwing out their answers - some serious, some not. Others were drowned out in the cacophony of rising tempers between students, their discussions raging from the relevant to the tangent. I wanted to hear what the teacher had to say - I kept my attention on him. He stood alone in the front, trying to process the chaotic scene that was happening in front of him. He didn't seem he wanted to give up, but his answer threw me off.

"Everyone's wrong, and everyone's right."

Another bout of silence.

"Everything you guys have said are partially right, but also wrong at the same time. Let me rephrase the question - why are you guys here today?"

More dissenting sounds and opinions.

"Some people said for money, some people said because they were forced by the parents. Let me tell you why I'm here today, then. I'm here, because of imagination."

Huh? What did he say? Was he trolling?

"It seems almost cliché that I'm saying that, but that's right. Imagination. Think about it for a second. Science is a collective, systematic entity that builds and organizes in the form of testable explanations and predictions about the universe. Yet, it doesn't provide an actual reason to follow it - there is no real guide about how one should find the information. Imagination, and its co-partner, creativity, is crucial in the build-up of science. Without imagination, we would've never aspired to be different from one another. We would've stayed as the cavemen we used to be, stuck in dark caves and consuming everything in our wake without regard. It is, in a sense, a source of power. Just look at the TV shows - how do you think people came up with the TARDIS and the whole Doctor Who series? The theory of time travel and parallel dimensions, too, spans from imagination. When people were fantasizing about what the world could be, they came with new ideas and concepts that would've never been discovered otherwise. That being said, TV shows weren't the first to provide a basis for new scientific innovations. Leonardo da Vinci came up with blueprints for a helicopter - 400 years before it actually came into being. What I'm saying is that our imagination is the ultimate limiter to what we can achieve. Without it, we would have never aspired to do the things we want, attain the breakthroughs we've achieved today, and even meet the people we treasure, be it in the past, present, or future. Oh! Looks like my tangent exhausted all our time for today - we'll continue the lesson next week. Have a good weekend!"

The class began to disperse as the students raced to the door, wanting to exit before getting stuck behind a mass of bodies. They looked like a flock of escaping chickens, trying to exit the pen before suffering the excruciating pain of waiting minutes in the classroom. I casually got up, my mind still processing the teacher's inspiring speech. I felt hot-blooded, and my body was tingling with excitement; I was surprised by how much his words had affected me. I felt like I could do anything, as if I had attained a secret skill limited to a select few. However, it seemed a majority of the class had not been as motivated I had been - the way they left was the same lackadaisical yet hectic departure as any other day.

I brushed some stray hair from my right shoulder as I got up from picking up my light backpack. I wanted to be as motivated and dedicated as the teacher had been. He had found a purpose in life, and he was happy - even if it meant teaching undergraduates like us.

Walking down the stairs of the auditorium, I headed for the front entrance. As I was about to reach the bottom of the stairs, I felt something strike me in my chest. I gasped, a burst of air suddenly expelling itself from my mouth. Instinctively, I moved to anticipate my falling, but my body was frozen. I looked downwards, but my neck was locked in position; I couldn't see my chest to check for an injury or impact mark. I was still standing up, but slightly bent over; the impact occurred a fraction of a moment before my body froze. I began to panic; I had no idea what was going on. This wasn't natural at all.

I moved my eyes around to check my front field-of-vision - I didn't see anyone. A black line surrounded the vision to my left and right; my hair, no doubt. I looked back in front of me, and saw the podium and blackboard. The podium stood alone in the dim, yellow light of the overhead lights, unable to compete with the fluorescent lights that lit up the room. Was I binded by rope? The texture wasn't anything that I was familiar with.

My eyes jerked at a movement in front of me. A piece of the wall near the blackboard suddenly fell down, as if it developed a mind of its own and seperated itself from the larger body. When I expected to hear an impact and see it break, it instead disappeared. I blinked, trying to make sense of what just happened - but then the world went crazy. There was nothing in front of me; it was pitch-black. The world went from color to black in the literal blink of an eye. I felt my body burning up, my fear fueling my useless defensive instincts. An orchestra of dissonant sounds and screams rang in my ears as my body began to reject the reality I was experiencing. My eyes were staring into darkness, but I saw what looked to be a form emerging from within it. I felt my head ringing, its existence linked to my own demons. The foreboding presence came closer, and I could feel a desire of consumption radiate from it like a glacier of ice. My body was shaking, even though it was frozen, and I could feel my mental conscience moving in a thousand directions.

And then, it all stopped.

When I came to, I was standing, still on the last step of the stairs. Instantly, I collapsed to the ground, partly from fatigue, and partly from fear.

"What...was that?" I could not answer my own question.

My hair was sprawled all over my head and face. I looked down my shirt and support, trying to see if there was some kind of bruise or mark from the hallucinatory experience. Nothing. I checked the rest of my body, and saw only the mark on my hand.

I lifted myself off the ground, and walked out of the building. I looked up; the sky had changed from a light-blue canvas to a black canvas streaked with red. Confused, I took my cellphone out of my bag, wondering what time it was.

"9 pm..."

On my walk back to my dorm, a million questions ran through my head, but escaped at the same time. I was too tired to think, but too tired to ignore it at the same time. The bad thoughts were on the horizon, but an unknown force also suppressed them.

It took me several minutes to try and get my key to work in my room, but once I did, I walked to my room and fell down on the bed. I replaced my skirt and shirt with my pajamas, closed my door, and wrapped myself in my blanket, trying to find comfort alone. This wasn't normal or good at all; something happened to me, but what? Maybe I would find the answers tomorrow, when I'd have more energy. As I drifted off to sleep, I imagined an unknown figure stabbing me in the head, his large syringe up my brain - and my thoughts, both good and bad.

I had a bad feeling that something interesting, yet terrible, would happen in the near future.