Different colored minds

What Social Anxiety Costs

ALIANA'S PERSPECTIVE

I know what I want and that makes me question Why God let this happen to me. Why did he let me want that?

Then I smell it.

Where is it?

The air smells like cinnamon, pumpkin, and the first day of senior year.

Is it someone's perfume?
I think it has to be an air freshener but I can't figure out where it is.

There's another noise too. It has a metallic click that's been pounding erratically for a while now.

It has to be a pen or maybe a mechanical pencil. But where is it?

I slide my eyes shut and place my forehead against the cool desk underneath me.

I can't hear the teacher over my mind, The lights, The space.
I just want to hear the teacher.

"Falling asleep in class again, aliana?" The teacher's voice is cold.

I jolt upright.

"Didn't think my lesson was worth paying attention to?"

How do I tell him about it?
That I can't hear him over everything else.
That I'm closing my eyes and focusing on the cold of the desk so I can hear.
That I just want to focus.
That I don't want to sound crazy,
I just can't get out of my head.

Cold eyes cascade around me and down my spine. Someone is whispering something to someone else in the back through the pause. The pen or pencil stops tapping.

I feel very small. Like I'm being crushed.
My chest caves in and my heart burns.
And my mind can't stop darting towards judgmental minds.

the bell chooses this moment to ring. I take in a nose full of pumpkin before closing my chemistry book.

Stay calm. If I put my headphones on right now, no one will bother me until cheer practice.

I exhale pumpkin and put my chunky black headphones over my head.

The socially appropriate people shusher.

I almost get them over my ears when someone taps on my shoulder.

"Hey Aliana," meghan's voice is too close—fingers cold against my shoulders from behind. "We're done with our first day as seniors! How does it feel?"
I turn around with a smile plastered over my feelings.

"It went well."

That's a lie. Today was the same as everyday. I'm alone—
I wish I could talk to others about what's going on inside. Tell them I'm hurting—
I'm drowning alone in an ocean full of life boats, but they're not looking for someone to save—

Meghan clears her throat.

Her hazel eyes tell me she wants something.

She's looking at me for too long.

I have to figure out what it means but I'm already overwhelmed from what just happened with the teacher.
She doesn't care.
She doesn't know.
She looks irritated.
But most expressions look like irritation.
What am I doing wrong this time?
And then it hits me—

"How was your day?"
"Oh my gosh, so good, Steven passed me in the hallway and I..."

At that mention of Steven, her words fall out of focus and into the ocean of my unending thoughts.
My heart burns at the mention of Steven.
Cold blonde hair and blue eyes surface in my memory that don't belong to Steven.
He must be at school right now.
He must be.
And it makes my heart hurt worse.
I'm glad she said Steven instead of him, But why am I glad?
We're nothing now.