𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐫 ||𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐨 𝐏𝐝 (𝐔𝐩𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝)

Chapter 5

After a stressful half hour, we arrived at Westhill High School and miraculously were still on time. Let's just say, Robyn is an easily distracted person and I'm presuming the splendid news she received this morning didn't help with her organisation skills.

It does make a lot of sense, after all, we must have taken what felt like a gazillion detours until we finally set of properly. Surely after the first time you would double check you had everything... but no, instead I felt like we were taking a hike; a never ending one to be exact.

Sauntering up the small stone steps, which felt like they had been designed to purposely humiliate students, I made my way up to the front entrance as I subtly checked behind me but that only caused me to halt in my steps as Robyn was nowhere in sight. I tried scanning my surroundings but the swarm of students who appeared suddenly had me jolting to the direction of the entrance once more.

The startling emotion came out of nowhere, it invaded me and caused my feet to scatter along the surface as I tried to disappear from the watchful eye of the world around me.

The repetitive thumping pattern latched itself onto my eardrums as I hurriedly rushed into the building. Muffled sounds of frustration coming from those in my way tried to subdue the pounding which was slowly swallowing my rationality as I continued to scurry through the half empty hallway and towards the first classroom I could find.

School bathrooms are useless in my opinion, at least when it comes to these types of situations. A confined space: which echoes your sobs and your uneven staggering breathes as you try to gasp for that small ounce of air to dilute the suffocation you are facing. If anything, they make it worse...

Not only that, but the mirrors which covered one side of the wall would make my goal harder to reach as the translucent material acted as a reminder that there was no escape and that this dreaded feeling was what I deserved.

I couldn't risk the mortifying experience of someone actually seeing me like this, I felt pathetic. All I had done was walk up a few steps and gained a few passing looks as I searched for Robyn, but this was all it took for the abrupt panic and stress to filter out the logical side of my screwed-up brain.

I'm not one to care about judgement coming from anyone except my father, at least when it is directed at me, but when I feel exposed to wide open spaces it triggers something inside of me; something I have no control over.

As my hand reaches out to grip the door handle of whichever classroom this led to, I miss. I try again and subsequently fail. I give myself another chance as I scramble around the door until I tightly shove it open before hurriedly searching the room for any signs of movement.

Much to my relief and approval it was empty.

Clipping the door shut as the thudding still remains vibrating inside of me, my legs immediately give way despite my best efforts to not show weakness. It was just me in this room, all alone and stuck in despair. This might sound appalling to some but having to take advice from someone who can't understand and will never truly know why this is happening to me; sounds like a means to an end.

Trying to handle one emotion at a time, I knew the only way to move forward was to slow down my breathing. For me, basic breathing techniques which you could find on YouTube, were useless. Whenever I attempt to focus on the rate of my ragged breaths, my situation gets worse as I end up stupidly panicking over the fact that my heart rate is rapidly increasing by the second.

My eyes scan the room before me as I look closely at the objects in view. Squinting my eyes tightly, I strain my focus on a poster across the opposite side of the classroom.

"Poster"

My eyes snap away and zoom in on the small lamp situated on the desk in the right-hand corner of the room to where I had been sat, slouched against the wooden door behind me.