Simplify Me

Nancy continued staring out her dorm window without a care in the world for the algebra test tomorrow. Her homework and class notes were laid strewn over her desk as if trying to piece together abstract art. A sigh escaped her lips. Her temples pulsed lightly, her eyes weighed down by the temptation of sleep she’d never get to have.

A wave of nausea flowed through her every time she looked down at her papers. Complex fractions, my ass, she thought. The only thing complex about them is their existence. Seriously, who needs this shit? Nancy rolled her eyes through the glazed fog of dryness. She shuffled the papers as if expecting that to make her suddenly interested.

The clock on the wall ticked, counting down the moments she didn’t have to fully understand what was going on in this chapter. It’s too bad she couldn’t use her notes during the test, not that she’d get them right anyway. Surely Nancy would miss a sign somewhere or forget to carry a number. Math just wasn’t her forte.

The clock ticked louder. As Nancy stared down at her notes through tired eyes, the numbers seemed to move and rotate around each other. “Whoa.” She said aloud. Nancy rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times, trying to focus her gaze, but the numbers kept moving. The clock was ticking so loud and fast that Nancy covered her ears, trying to drown it out, but it was no use.

She stood suddenly, her chair flying backward. She ripped the clock from the wall and smashed it onto the floor. That didn’t work, though. The clock was still ticking loud and fast. It shouldn’t be working, she thought to herself. Nancy heard a noise coming from the desk behind her. When she looked, she saw a figure standing over the papers.

Is that a…fraction? Nancy asked herself. She rubbed her eyes again, swearing that when she opened them, the figure would be gone. “Simplify me,” said a tiny squeaky voice. Nancy’s eyes flew open, and she saw that the figure was still standing on her desk. She knew that the little fella was from problem number three. Four over y-one divided by y over y-one. “Simplify me,” it said again.

“I don’t know how,” Nancy replied. She was sure she had to be dreaming. There’s no way this was really happening. Then, the little guy started to grow. Eyes popped out of the y-one, and arms extended from the sides of the division line. Legs sprouted from the y-one on the bottom. As it grew, more problems began standing up from the paper.

Two plus five over six divided by one plus three over six, one over four divided by five over six, and negative four-x over x plus y divided by y over x-squared. The complex fractions were filing out of the paper like a portal to another dimension. All said, “Simplify me,” over and over again. The four over y-one had finished growing. Now it approached Nancy, so big and tall that she had to lean back. “Simplify me,” its voice was now deep and more of a growl.

“I can’t,” Nancy said shakily. “I don’t know how.” All the math problems, now just as big and scary as the first guy, shrieked and growled. They started to break apart as if forming an army. Objects materialized in their hands. Knives, swords, bats, and other weapons. All Nancy knew was that she had to get out. She turned and started for the door. A sharp pain went across her back, and she screamed. The y-one had cut her from her shoulder to waist with its knife. She got the door open and ran into the hall, yelling for help.

But no one answered. Nancy knocked on doors, but no one answered. She screamed and yelled, but no one answered. Where was everyone? Tomorrow is test day. They should all be in their dorms studying or partying. Where’s the music? Where are the people? The halls were silent as she ran down them, feeling blood trickling down her back, her shirt sticking to her skin wet and cold.

“Help me!” She screamed. Nancy turned to look behind her, but nothing was there. Did she imagine the problems coming to life? No, she couldn’t have. How else would one explain the slash on her back? The blood now pooling into the hem of her jeans? As Nancy turned the corner, she ran smack into the four-x. She let out a scream as the deep, bellowing voice yelled, “Simplify me!”

It brought down its bat, and Nancy rolled to the left, just barely dodging the strike. It cracked against the tiled floor, and the noise echoed down the hall. She heard footsteps coming from behind her and looked to see the army of math running for them. “Simplify me!” They all said it in unison, which she admitted was kind of creepy.

Nancy made eye contact with the four-x. “You can’t escape us,” it stated. Nancy shoved past it and took off down the hall. “You will simplify us!” Her breath caught as math problems began opening doors and stepping out into the hall with chain saws, metal rods, and machetes. Each took a swing at her when she passed.

Her jeans and shirt tore just like the skin on her body. Blood trickled out like pipe leaks, and Nancy couldn't help but want to stop and give into them, but she didn't. She pressed on because no matter how much she wanted to give up, her natural sense of self-preservation wouldn't allow her to.

Nancy’s heart beat faster, her breath caught as her math homework played slice and dice, all screaming at her to simplify them. Up ahead of her, she could see the double door that would lead her out into the streets of campus. Surely someone would be out there that could help her. A guard or another student on their way home, maybe.

The door seemed forever away. Nancy moved in slow motion as her path stretched farther and farther. No, she said to herself. She reached her hands out, trying to touch the doors. Footsteps were closing in on her. Nancy glanced behind her to see that they were moving fast. Any minute now, they’d get her, and she’d be done for.

Suddenly her hands hit the doors, and they flew open. Nancy breathed in the crisp night air. Chill tickled her arms and neck, but she didn’t care. She kept running. No one was around, which wasn’t entirely surprising since it was midnight. Not a guard in sigh—

Just then, as Nancy neared a corner, she saw them. Bodies littered the campus ground with gashes, slashes, and some even dismembered. Chain saws, she thought, shivering. She turned and saw the math problems gaining on her, weapons raised and ready. Nancy knew right then that no one was going to help her, and there was no way that she would die by math homework.

She looked down at the poor guard that obviously never saw his demise coming, and took the gun from his holster. Nancy gave it a once-over. There’s no way she could fight the entire crowd with just this handgun. She knew she needed something more significant. Nancy took one more look at the group about to reach her. She began running again, wishing she hadn’t stopped because now her body was feeling it. “Simplify me!” They all continued yelling in unison over and over.

Their chant rang in her ears and brain. She clutched at them, trying desperately to drown out the sound, but no relief came. Nancy ran through puddles of blood and jumped over bodies, feeling the blood splatter all over her jeans and raw wounds. She found her way into another building—the boys’ dorm. She stopped when she saw the janitor lying in a puddle of blood. A mop beside him. She grabbed the mop and shoved it through the door handles to prevent the complex fractions from getting inside.

Nancy knew the only thing she could do to guarantee the destruction of the army of math was to make an explosion. She mentally kicked herself for not paying attention in her science classes, but can anyone blame her? Everyone knew English was what she was most interested in. Nancy walked into the first dorm room.

If she could just find a bottle of alcohol, a cloth, and a lighter, maybe she could make it work. Nancy weaved from door to door, looking for what she needed. In one room, she found a bottle of whiskey under the bed. She found a lighter and a pack of cigarettes in another, which she took because why not?

Nancy laid everything out on the desk and grabbed a thin towel from the bathroom. As she removed the cap from the bottle, she heard loud banging from all around the building. She knew they would get inside eventually, especially since she only blocked one entrance. Nancy quickly shoved the towel inside the bottle and ran for it.

She went around every corner, trying to find an entrance that didn’t have the complex fractions at them. Nancy burst through the door and out into the chilly night air again. Now that she had her weapon of math destruction, she just needed to figure out how she would use it. She looked at it for a moment and wondered if it would be big enough to take them all out.

Just then, y over x-squared and five over six came around the corner. “Simplify me!” They chanted. Nancy dropped the bottle, and it rolled across the pavement. She raised the gun and opened fire. Each shot hit them, slowing them down, but they didn’t stop. Nancy’s eyes widened. She realized it would take something bigger than just a makeshift bomb out of an alcohol bottle.

She dodged a swing from five over six's metal rod and rolled under, coming to her feet behind them. Nancy couldn't tell if the reason they were moving slower was that they were so big, or because they were stupid. Maybe both. She kicked y over x-squared and it dropped to its knees, dropping the chainsaw.

Nancy tucked the handgun in the back of her pants and made her move. She grabbed the chainsaw before the complex fraction could. It roared to life as Nancy cranked it. The rumbles cut the air like she was about to cut this math problem. Nancy swung the chainsaw around and tore through y over x-squared. It exploded into a thousand pieces all over the pavement.

She looked over at five over six, who was just standing there with his rod. "I guess math doesn't bleed," Nancy said as she began walking stealthily toward the complex fraction. "Simplify me?" Five over six said, sounding nervous.

Nancy cranked the chainsaw and ripped through the fraction. "I'll show you simplifying," She said while watching all the pieces of the fraction hit the ground. After a moment of silence, she heard footsteps approaching, meaning the army of math was on their way.

Nancy started running again, trying to think of what she could do. She saw the school parking lot and took off for it. As she rounded one of the many rows of cars, a metal rod lay on the ground covered in blood. It was beside a freshman she had known in her AP English class. Poor guy, she thought.

She quietly laid the chainsaw on the pavement and picked up the rod. Someone has to have extra gas laying around, she thought to herself. Nancy started prying the trunks open, looking for anyone who might carry around spare cans of gasoline. Is that something she might find? Maybe.

One never knows when it comes to college kids. Nancy kept low and tried to be as quiet as possible. Over the top of the cars, she could see the complex fractions roaming around looking for her. Some coming toward the parking lot. She knew she had to move faster.

She pried open the trunk of an older model and found what she was looking for. A large can of gasoline, and it was completely full. Nancy shoved the handgun into the back of her pants, feeling the cold plastic rub into the gash on her back. She winced as she took the can out, almost dropping it. “Damn, that’s heavy,” She said with gritted teeth.

Nancy looked around, hunched over with the weight of the gas. She started to pour the gasoline everywhere, making sure to hit all the cars with it, too. When the can was nearing empty, Nancy made a trail toward a vehicle in the back of the parking lot. She tossed the now empty can aside and stepped onto the top of the newest sports car, owned by her algebra professor.

Nancy turned toward campus, noticing some complex fractions had spotted her and were already making a run for it. But she needed all of them to come for her. “hey!” She yelled, and they all stopped wandering and looked toward her. Nancy could’ve sworn her heart stopped at that moment, but she didn’t let fear show. “You want me?” She pulled the pack of cigarettes out of her blood-soaked pocket, took one out, and lit it, taking a long drag. “Come and get me,” she said.

With her permission, the army of math ran for her. All of them chanting, “Simplify me!” Still in unison in their deep, throaty growls. The complex fractions raised their weapons, the sound of chainsaws erupted through the quiet night atmosphere of the campus. Nancy drew a smile across her lips as she took another drag of the cigarette, waiting for the fractions to hit the gasoline-soaked parking lot.

“Simplify this!” Nancy yelled as she dropped the lit cigarette onto the pavement. Fire erupted immediately and spread all over the parking lot and cars. Some of the fractions were already burning alive. Their screams pierced the night, now glowing with the brightest of flames. One by one, cars began to explode as the fire reached the engines, and then they all did. Nancy watched the entire parking lot blow up, and every complex fraction got destroyed.

Then…she woke up.

One year later…

Nancy sat waiting to see her therapist. It had been a year since that horrific nightmare. Was it a nightmare, though? She remembered waking up right after she set the parking lot on fire. Papers were stuck to her face, and she wiped away the drool and sweat, but there was nothing on them. What was supposed to be her math homework and notes were now just blank pieces of notebook paper.

It was like the math problems had come to life, and with their death, they never came back to where they belonged. Her jeans were also torn and covered in blood. The hems of her ankles were soaked and stained from running through puddles of blood that littered the campus ground. And as for that gash on her back—it never went away. She ended up needing to get stitches, and now she has a scar with no logical explanation as to where it came from.

At the hospital, doctors and forensics teams took her clothes for testing. The results were inconclusive. The only blood they were able to identify was hers. As for the rest, there were no matches. All they could tell was that the blood was real. And as she returned to campus, the parking lot was covered in soot, which still stains it to this day.

Another weird occurance was the makeshift bomb she had put together inside the dream was sitting on her desk as if some kind of decoration. The pack of cigarettes sat in her pocket, stained with blood and gasoline from where she'd wiped her hands after tossing the can. One cigarette was missing.

Nancy ended up dropping her math class, and after a few months of reoccurring nightmares about complex fractions and dead bodies, she decided therapy was what she needed. The college counselor took on several students as clients in that time frame which puzzled her. Why did so many students need treatment?

Little did Nancy know…she wasn’t the only one that had a nightmare that night, and not everyone survived it.