Oh my goodness, this is boring. How many times can you listen to a teacher yammer about “the syllabus” before you die of boredom? Why even discuss the syllabus? It’s posted almost everywhere in class and online. I stare at the chalk board, zoning out and questioning my life at this point. Why am I even in English CP? They’re just going to bump me up once they realize I’m smarter than the average. But then they’ll find out I asked for CP, and question why. The reason why is because last year I struggled. Not with the work itself, but the workload. The papers and projects and assignments kept piling and piling and I couldn’t find a care to get out of bed and do it, to do anything for that matter. I can’t do this again. I can’t go through this again. I can’t struggle anymore. I feel a tightening in my chest, and tears rise in my eyes. Shit. My throats closing up, I can’t breathe. Why? Why right now? The worst timing of all to have a panic attack. I try to ask for the bathroom but of course I have to “save all questions for the end.” Gosh darnit, can you just recognize I’m not okay and send me off?! At this point I can’t even keep my head up. My body’s trembling, tears are pouring down my face, I can’t breathe at all, I’m nauseous and dizzy and weak, and worst of all I feel pathetic. I have to leave. I have to. It’s way more embarrassing for someone to notice me and then ask if I’m okay rather than make a scene by leaving the room. As I’m about to get up, someone puts their hand on my shoulder. I peek at them, and all I can really see is black and purple and pale skin. These stupid tears. I wipe my face as she takes what I assume is my glasses. Everything is still blurry because I assume my glasses are broken from my hopefully silent head slam. I can see her mouth moving, and I can hear her voice, but I can’t make out what she’s saying. Gosh, my mind is running. I flinch as she moves in closer.
“You need to take a walk?” Huh?…huh. That’s new. What does that even mean? Well, I want to be anywhere but here. So, I nod and she guides me out of the room, holding me by arm. I hate the fact that I’m shaking so much and I’m too dizzy so she has to have her arm around me to walk but I like the fact her hands are soft and she’s being very gentle with me because it feels like no one in my life is gentle with me. She walks me into the closest bathroom as she rambles about this is the best she can do. I mean, I would hope so, since sitting on a girl’s lap in a bathroom stall while I try not to choke on air is not ideal.
“What happened?” She stares at me with such soft eyes, eyes that make me want to spill my whole life out to her. I would, if I could. But the feeling of being silent is just so comforting right now. Silence in of itself is comforting. There’s always so much noise everywhere I go that just for this once, I can kinda what silence sounds like. She stares at me for a moment before nodding and pulling me into a hug
“I understand.” And thank god she does; because if she didn’t, I wouldn’t know what to do.