The Impact

Let's play the truth game, no that is too dangerous

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Chapter 6: Let's play the truth game, no that is too dangerous

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'Liars get the easy way out and I want that'

As soon as the bell for class rings I make my way to class and manage to slam my books on the desk with all the frustration in me. With my luck I get the seat farthest away from the teacher and possibly the eyes of everyone but even without being looked at I can almost feel the thoughts of the people around me. It's like, without even looking at me they are managing to burn holes into my body. I try to ignore the attention as much as possible and concentrate on the lesson but my thoughts keep drifting elsewhere. I wonder if Sam was worried about something I didn't know of. Maybe she wasn't able to concentrate in classes either, should I have known? There was this part of me nudging me over and over again. Telling me something I couldn't make out, it seemed almost as if there was something inside me reminding me of..... me.

I take a deep breath and stare at the board. The numbers and symbols form a weird shape as the things that I knew once seem alien to me. My concentration loses at points and I find myself hearing voices in my head telling me to forget everything. It's almost like two people arguing inside my brain, one telling me to concentrate and the other telling the first one to shut up. I shake my head lightly as if to shed away the thoughts but it gets worse and for a moment I'm convinced that I've gone crazy and I'll end up in an asylum. Out of nowhere the face of Sam's mother flashes in front of my eyes and I clench my fists from screaming.

Mood switches. I feel guilty now, and under any circumstances I need to go apologize to her. I look down at my register and start scribbling lines. With my eyes on the board, my hand scribbling God knows what on the register and my mind in a place I'm unaware of, I declare myself a crazy person. After a minute of staring at the board my eyes start getting watery and I force myself to look down. When I look at my register I let out a gasp. The scribbling managed to turn into Sam's name. I feel sick to the stomach and my head feels like it's going to burst. It could be over thinking but I also remember not talking the medicines that the doctor prescribed me. When I feel like I could drop any given moment I get up and rush to the washroom with my hand clasped over my mouth. As soon as reaching the washroom I lean over the sink and let out a deep breath. Surprisingly I don't feel like vomiting anymore. All I do is stand there, talking in the details of the girl looking back at me in the mirror. I stand there in that position for about five minutes when I hear the door open and someone walk in. I don't bother to look at the person and keep standing there, looking away from the mirror and casting my eyes down. The person walks slowly, almost like a ghost and the footsteps aren't even audible if there are any. I feel a light tap on my shoulder and turn around. I stand face to face with the person I least expected to be there.

"Mrs. Martin?" I stammer her name wondering what she could be doing there "I was going to ask you but I felt really sick" I say as I recall that I had left her class without a word, running.

"No, I came here to see you" she says looking down at me with her brown eyes; she's the only teacher I ever considered beautiful and kind. She has thing about her that I like. "Are you okay dear?" her voice doesn't give of pity but has a hint of care in them. Which is a good thing since I'm tired of pity.

"Yes, I-" I start, but don't get to complete my statement as the tears involuntarily start pouring out. I feel Mrs. Martins hand holding me, stopping me from falling and probably fainting like I did the last time as she just holds me while I cry. I feel my old vulnerable self coming back as I cling to her for support and all she does is stroke my ear whispering soothing nothings. After about fifteen minutes of crying I realize she has probably left her class for me. And somehow I feel good about it. Something about it makes me feel better but it doesn't last long. Because this voice keeps telling me that I am not supposed to feel better.

"Let's get you to the clinic shall we?" she says "You look pale, have you eaten anything?" as much as I hate lying to someone this nice, I don't want to be bombarded with more questions even if they come from a voice that I enjoy hearing.

"Yes" I say, my voice barely audible and I see her nod, but in her eyes I see a glimpse of uncertainty and I know that she doesn't believe me but instead of coming clean I simply act as if I hadn't noticed her expression at all. She takes me to the clinic, all the while holding me as if I were some sort of fragile china that might break at the slightest touch or probably some old person that needed support to walk or else I'd fall and shatter in a million pieces but then again I was already in a million pieces from the inside, maybe even more.

It is an awkward silence but once we reach the clinic she tells the nurse to take me in and get me some rest. Before the nurse takes me away she looks at me with kind eyes and whispers touching my bandaged hand "Don't do that again Lily, you're stronger and better than that". With that she walks away leaving me teary eyed and in a state of ecstasy.

The nurse settles me down on a bed and despite my protests that I have eaten and feel fine, which is the biggest lie I've ever spoken, she gives me pain killers and vitamin tablets. I lie down on the bed and close my eyes. The empty ceiling is almost as empty as my life. One would say that I have a lot on my plate right now but to be honest I've never felt more empty in my entire life. So out of shape and worthless, like I have no aim. After Sam's death nobody really expects my grades to high in a week so I don't really study the entire day and just sit around like a corpse, staring at whatever is in front of me. I close my eyes tight and make a mental note to visit Sam's mother and apologize and with that I drift off to sleep.