Subconsciously conscious

When people meet Charlie Black for the first time they often have three initial thoughts: He was handsome, he was smart, and he was as much of a virgin as Mother Theresa.

It wasn’t his fault. He just didn’t understand women, or people in general for that matter.

That may had been the reason he became an psychology student in the local university. So to understand why people were the way they were.

He was pretty good at it. He was actually the best of his class, even though he was still in his first year. Some said that he was a teacher’s pet, but Charlie thought they were just jealous the hot piece of ass that was Professor Emile took a liking of him.

She actually gifted him a pocket watch, saying that he would get the point latter.

Charlie still didn’t got the point, he couldn’t even open the damn thing. But he liked the watch nonetheless, so much that he always had it with him.

As far as Charlie could tell, the casing was made of pure gold. He had no idea of what the inside looked like, but there was something weird about the outside. Instead of having one button, it had three. None of them did anything, but it was still weird.

The only time Charlie had managed to open the watch, by pressing the second button, there had been a weird echo and he had felt a slight punch on his gut. He sat on his couch for almost an hour, just watching the watch, before he closed it. Strangely, everyone else acted as if no time had passed.

Charlie still didn’t know what the Professor had meant by getting the point later, so he stopped trying to find out.

Charlie gave a yawn and leaned back on the cushion of the living room sofa.

It was Friday night and he was home reading, not even for homework, but because he liked it.

The book was The History of Sexuality by Michel Foucault. Something Charlie hopped would help him get a girlfriend.

He heard fast footsteps coming down the stairs, lifting his eyes from the book, he saw who was going in such a rush.