Love Scathed

Love and Greetings

My eyes open to the morning hues from the reflected light, crepuscular rays disturbing me from the nightmares annihilating any calm or peaceful thought, into uneasiness and disquietude.

The sudden epiphany of returning to school, engulfs any positive vestige into wholehearted panic mode. Intrusive flashbacks of the oblivion hopelessness, facing those of true hatred and judgment honestly doesn't help with the consternation building inside of me.

I acknowledge that there isn't an avoidable way around this, and I must push through the impertinent thoughts constantly knocking me down.

I drag my feet towards my dresser, and put on a black sweatshirt, along with black sweatpants. Ever since Louis and his crony's told me that I "let myself go," I couldn't escape the persistent reverberations from it. The echos telling me how imperfect I am, and that i'll never be enough, despite the fact that it was in 8th grade, so personally, i'd rather get backlash for looking "homeless" than fat.

Carrying my burdensome backpack towards the bus stop, skipping breakfast because my anxiety makes me feel like throwing up at the thought of even consuming food, I'm unable to prevent myself from shaking of hyperventilation. Shaking from the thoughts of the sly comments that were meant to be of me. Shaking from sitting in the bathroom thoroughly forlorn during lunch. Shaking from the thought of staring into nothingness, trying to break out of this shit reality where I am a lost cause, a failure to society, a nobody. And shaking on the bus alone, where I currently remain.

The overcast of grey, sprawling celestially overhead, inching exceedingly, practically anticipating an escapade to lead me away from this darkness pursuing me, my reflection. My reflection against the window of torpefying vehemence, slowly suffocating me in dread and contrition from my personal hell, leisurely pulling me in.

The hell that brings me to where I'm standing now, my high school.

I exceed towards the fawn building, envying students reuniting inside their friend groups, reciting their ups and downs and arbitrary summer flings...imagine.

Walking through the wearisome hallway deceiving me, as if the walkway was to stretch for eternity, where it was to perish into nullity, I hold my eyes towards the ground, refusing to make eye contact with those surrounding me. I feel self conscious, as if everyone were outstaring me, where in actuality, they couldn't give two shits about my existence.

I stress the revelation that I was yet to see Louis and his dickhead friends, but allocate my thoughts and focus on accessing my first class.

Walking into english class, I take a seat in the far right corner, refusing to pick my head up. I'm aware that I'm surpassingly socially awkward, but it's molded from years of torment and constant belittling, it's mentally inescapable.

I maintain my reticent routine through 5 periods, shocked by the unobtrusive appearance of the schools shiny asshole, and race towards the bathroom in a rush after hearing the bell ring, clearly trying to avoid any chance of knocking into someone i'm not ready to face again.

Throughout irrefutable scenarios, I find security in isolation and detachment, certainly now. Closing the bathroom stall, I let out a breath I neglected to notice, overwhelming feelings that are all too familiar and nostalgic to previous years conjure inside me. Years of feeling as if the world is painfully consuming you, feeling that everyones out to get you, walls closing in on you, pure agony.

I fail to notice a girl follow me into the bathroom, appearing stand-offish, seeming to be planning on approaching me. Without giving her the chance, I walk out of the blue stall, and head towards the sink across from her, and face her, "What?" I ask, genuinely addled by her presence.

"Oh hi, um sorry, I'm Amelia...I saw you earlier in first period and wanted to introduce myself." She replied. I remark her curly black hair, accompanied by hazel eyes and scattered freckles over her central face region, she is stunning.

"I'm Briar." I reply bluntly. I veraciously don't know what to think. It's definitely not an everyday occasion where people actually want to converse with me.

"I hate this shit school, you seem to hate it as well...I resent how those of beauty and glory tend to behave superior, especially that Louis kid." She states. I cognizance our correspondence...we seem to share rather familiar insights

"Oh my god yes. I loathe how they always belittle humans depending on their fucking social status! And don't even get me started on Louis...have you even seen him today?" I mention.

"Scarcely. I think I saw him with some girl...not a surprise, she seemed new." She replies.

Oh. "Oh umm I think i'm gonna be late to 7th period...see you tomorrow maybe?" I ask.

"Oh okay, I don't think the bell rung but uh...sounds good to me." She replies, in a confused tone.

I rush out of the bathroom in utter puzzlement. That was the first clear minded conversation i've had in years.

In the midst of my distracted mental state, I fail to acknowledge my surroundings while someone knocks straight into me...oh shit.

"Oh my god I am so sorry." I apologize, before realizing who i've knocked into.

Fucking Louis.

"Save it cunt. Watch where you're fucking going." He replies dryly, pushing past me as normal.

Ahh just another friendly greeting...I am so loved!

I tried to disregard his comment for the rest of the day. I adjusted to his conniving utterances ages ago, but it did primarily throw me off-guard.

My last classes eventually ended, which reputed as if it took years, rather than a scarce amount of hours.

Slamming the door open, I run into my room and jump onto my bed in a starfish position, the first day is finally over, although I recognize that this day is destined to diverge into a 364-day loop of internal misery, and I can't help but feel as though i'm trapped again. I need to come to terms with the certainty that I will never undergo the romanticized high school experience. Maybe college will be brighter. Maybe I can escape myself, an out of body experience.

I doze off, instantly unconscious into a blur, and wake up to my mom knocking on my door, "Bri, we're going to Partridges for dinner tonight, get up and try to make yourself look presentable."

My eyes shot open.